Fireworks.... No good.
I was eating supper and watching prime time drama when machine gun fire erupted outside my in-laws' country home Sunday night. My instincts and training set in as I made for the floor. I watched out the huge bay windows as sparks flew into the sky.
After a few funny looks from the fam, I got up and we went outside and lo and behold, the neighbors have got a fireworks show in their backyard, bigger and better than the annual fourth of July celebration in my hometown.
Who does that? Fireworks in February? Didn't anyone tell them there is an emotionally sentsitive war vet living next door who still isn't very fond off loud noises? I've grown accustomed to hearing intermitten gun fire here also. The other neighbors seem to like to play target practice in their yard.
So things really haven't changed much for me. I'm still in a war zone!
3 Comments:
I only fought in two major battles (to do with the "drug war") but even to this day I still don't like sudden loud noises. I don't completely hit the deck, but I flinch, and I cuss people out about it. It doesn't help that when certain cars backfire, they sound almost exactly like an 82mm mortar being fired off in the distance.
At Edwards there were sonic booms all the time, you could tell the people that came back from Iraq. We would all duck. I'm back to ducking now.
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