The worst thing about July 4th was the fireworks.
Maybe I’ve been spoiled by summer road trips and the small town life, but our firework situation this year was pretty lame. There was no mountain on fire and definitely no intoxicated man flipping burgers within 10 feet of the blast zone.
(Oh, how I missed the Ouray experience.)
The fireworks were shot off of the Mill Ave. Bridge over Tempe Town Lake, but we couldn’t see them from our apartment because of some rich dude’s condos. It took us ten minutes to drive one street over and we had to avoid running over about 1,052 drunk people.
It was 100 degrees outside and we got to listen to some sweet Mexican music every time a lowered Avalanche drove by, so that was pretty cool.
The rest of the weekend was spent with my family, meaning we missed out on Saturday’s high of 118 degrees. (Thank goodness.)
In summary, I think it’s about time to ditch the Phoenix metropolitan.
I would like to bundle up all of my family members and move them to someplace green and beautiful, like Washington or Colorado. Once we got all cozy, I don’t think I’d miss anything about this Arizona place, except maybe the Mexican food and the sunsets.
Definitely wouldn't miss the firework situation.
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