And the Rocket's Red Glare

I am about to complain, but before I do, I'd like to say that last night's fireworks were beautiful. Even the music was beautiful. The arrangements for the score were amazing and put a gentle new spin on many old favorites. I was also quite impressed by the coordination of the fireworks displays; East River and Statue of Liberty lit up in unison. Simultaneous, gorgeous, grand altogether. BUT...
Is it just me or did the Macy's fireworks in NYC stop rather abruptly last night? No Grand Finale? Hey Grucci family, what gives? Did you guys run out of matches or what? Because I just don't get what happened and it's left me rather antsy. See, in my experience, fireworks displays fake us out for a 20 minute spell using a steady stream of decent "shooters" that distract and satisfy our need to "ooh" and "aaahhh." Then, out of nowhere, like a speeding bullet, they rock-out like a nasty hard core pimp mutha at the very end. Isn't that how it goes? Isn't that what this country is all about? Holding your load 'til the very brink of the brink, as the masses beg for more, but before you explode, you magically release and blow it all out in one rapid express "Blam!" without care or concern for the mess you leave behind? That's America, baby!
No finale. No rocking like a mutha. No bang, bang, bang, bang, bang all at once to wrap it up! No astounding spectacle to leave me awestruck. Ugh. It was a great show. I loved it, I really did, but I just didn't get banged the way I like to get banged. The fireworks equivalent of blue balls, a hideous crime. I had to rush home to play some Aaron Copeland 'Fanfare for the Common Man' before I lost the desire, but that didn't work. I was a Yankee Doodle Dudley. And 20 hours later, I am still raw, aching for a bright, colorful, slightly dangerous blast. Perish the thought, but it looks like I'm gonna have to blow up my office.