Well the Maritime Festival weekend is here. No rain. The bluest sky on the planet and a nice NW breeze.
We wondered on downtown last evening to see the fireworks that never fired. It was a pleasant wait until someone circulated through the crowd announcing that "due to government regulations" there would be no show. Not to cast a pall (and it is pall not pale) over the evening, soothed a bit later by some expensive frozen yogurt, there were a lot of parents with kids in tow out there to see the lights and the things that go boom in the night. Some pretty long faces let me tell you.
Cast a pall is a good phrase for this. Pall of course coming from "pallor", something of a visual mask or something that obscures by, for instance, smoke or fog; diminishes the clear image. We wondered what the government regulation was that cast this pall, we are wondering this morning about communication. In this time of instant contact, e-mail blasts, IM on countless cells, Twitter, well you name it, we live in a village that has none. We, the residents do. But it appears we are on the end of a broken line that starts with the "government regulations" and ends with a good soul wandering through the crowd announcing in a nice, clear voice that there were no fireworks.
Perhaps the role of "town crier" should be revisited and that a clearly visible kiosk would be apropos - and not the pink tinged monolith in front of a firehouse that goes off line at night. It would be charming actually. The little old man toddling out with a ladder and hammer and nail, ready to post the proclamation. Actually we like the crier idea; "Eight o'clock and all is well and there will be no fireworks tonight due to government regulations". We can hear it now.
Armed with the news, we could find out what government regulations required cancelling this event. We could address the issue of who didn't do what that caused the government regulations to spring into effect. Perhaps we could find the government regulator who stood there at 8pm and said "no. not tonight. no how. no way".
Anyway, the pall was caste by the crier in waiting and we don't know what happened except that it didn't.
