This year I spent Fourth of July in bed watching Queer Eye on Netflix because it was my first, most miserable day of a virus shared (no surprise) by my adorable child. Although I missed Benji’s appearance in the town’s children’s parade, I didn’t miss the opportunity to hear my neighbors setting off fireworks until the small hours of the morning.

Which got me thinking.

Fireworks set off by individuals (as our neighbors did last night until all hours) are truly the perfect American way to celebrate our country. They:

• Terrify to babies, pets, and veterans, all of which we profess to love, and infuriate our neighbors trying to sleep;
• Generate literally tons of garbage that someone else (ahem, City of Bothell!) has to clean up;
• Also generate completely unnecessary air pollution that can’t be cleaned up;
• Start fires that rage out of control, cost millions to stop, and — bonus! — destroy vast swathes of nature at the same time, all out of carelessness; and
• Have the potential to cause physical harm to the lighter and viewers.

And yet we persist, because we don’t give a sh*t that what we want harms others.

God Bless Murrica. Amen and good night.