Where in the World is Tim?

As I mentioned before, every night at ten there was a different fireworks show in a different area of the city. I love fireworks. It is my belief that if the idea of shining coloured lights shining in the sky, and then falling towards earth in a shower of gold, crimson, azure, violet, whatever, doesn’t make you grin literally from one ear to the other, then there is something wrong with you and you should seek professional help. It’s amazing. I see it and instantly I’m five years old.

Monday night, the last night of Merce, was the most spectacular of the spectaculars. The final night of airborne pyrotechnics took place over the Plaza Espania, and if there were a kagillion people at the Fire Run, well then all those people brought their families to the plaza Monday night. Never before in my life have I seen so many people. Well except for that time I dreamt I was giving a speech at the Million Man March, but somehow I managed to show up naked, and then I realized it wasn’t a dream. But this was by far the largest group of people I’ve ever seen while I was wearing clothes.

For the commute down to the plaza, Deeba, Ellie, Armand and I took a cab. We could have taken the metro, but that would have involved walking to a metro stop. The Hebrews call that a ‘schlep’. The cab had to stop even before it got to the huge rotary at Plaza Espania, the largest rotary I’ve ever seen. It’s got a fountain in the middle, and trying to cross the street on a busy day is… well… did you ever see that movie “Meet Joe Black”? (Spoiler Alert) You know the scene where Brad Pitt gets hit by two cars and dies? Yeah, crossing the street is like that. But Monday night the street was filled with people, they were crammed into the rotary and quarter mile long plaza in much the same way brains aren’t crammed into Walker Bush’s head. (hayoooh!)

I think Ellie and I drove Armand and Deeba a little crazy, because we spent the entire cab ride, and the whole time we looked for a good spot to watch from, hypothesizing about the next Harry Potter book. I will spare you all the theories we concocted for the sake of time, and the fact that I don’t think the Internet can hold so much nerdiness. I might clog up one of the tubes. But so help me, if you think Severus is evil, I will fight you.

The theme of the fireworks was (yeah I didn’t know they had themes either) the history of jazz. Which made it pretty cool, they blasted music, and the fireworks danced along in the sky. I don’t know who picked the music for the show, but while there is a gray area between swing and jazz music, I don’t think Beatles songs and sixties TV themes count as jazz. But, you know what? I couldn’t care less, the music was pretty and it went along with the magical lights in the sky. The fireworks, when watched from where we were standing, were perfectly framed by the twin Venetian towers, and centered over the Palace de Espania, so it all looked perfect.

I feel as though I need to some up this weekend, perhaps give some final thoughts as to what I learned about Spanish or Catalonian culture. Honestly, I have been sitting here trying to think of some wisdom to impart upon you loyal readers, or to at least think of some clever way to finish up. Hell I’d settle for a pun, anything.

Alright, this doesn’t really apply, but I want to post it anyway and I can’t think of when else I’ll have the chance. My cousin had a baby. It’s a girl. Her name is Addison. From what I’m told she has my hair. I can’t wait to meet her. Hi Addie!