So, sometimes I like to just flat-out appreciate that I live where I live. Not in a braggy way, but a, "Hi, you live across the river from New York City and work there every day. Take advantage of that, yo."
For the last four years, when the Macy's fireworks display (which, sidebar, like the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree lighting, was only an NY-area thing back when I was a kid. None of this "THE WHOLE NATION MUST WATCH AND CELEBRITIES MUST JOIN IN" stuff or whatever the case is now. In fact, I think Channel 11 used to do the fireworks, with a radio simulcast. Ah, the simpler times when the 1812 Overture ruled and not Katy Perry and Kenny Chesney) moved to the Hudson River — much to the chagrin of many Brooklynites who are lamenting the fact that they were moved from the East River four years ago, to which I give a general "tee hee" in their sour-pussed direction. You took the Nets, so now we're even — and Rachel decided to start having people over to watch them from outside her apartment building, it was sort of a no-brainer.
This year, it seemed much more crowded than usual... and the fireworks scaled down a bit. Which I get, because, yeah those things cost money. But it's still a pretty fantastic thing to just stand there and watch these huge, awesome-looking explosions with The Empire State Building looming over the proceedings. And this year, a big-ass orange moon (probably sunburnt from its day at Coney Island, where it more than likely rode The Cyclone at least 11 times) tried to upstage everything. Like so:
Like a big (skulking) pizza pie... or Bad Moon Rising? Hmm.
Anyway, here are few more photos, which look weirdly pixelated despite not being taken with my cellphone. But whatever. You get the point:
