It seems that getting to the festival this weekend in Pemberton isn’t going to be without its problems – the main one being bumper to bumper traffic only to be confronted with $90 parking fees and no shuttle buses for concert goers. Of course, I don’t plan on going within 100 miles of it, which still leaves me a decent radius within which to operate.
The CBC has some questions about the fireworks here in town posted on their website. So, being that I was a long time resident of the West End, I thought that I would tackle them.
Do you have pictures or video of your friends celebrating?
Celebrating what?
The fact that you have to produce identification to pass through police checkpoints to gain access to your own home because half of the downtown core has been shut down?
Perhaps the fact that you get to listen to drunks yelling at the top of their lungs until five in the morning as they maraud through the West End without a single care for those who actually inhabit the neighbourhood?
Or maybe it’s the pleasure of waking up to streets strewn with garbage; flowerbeds and landscaping trampled, and bewildered residents examining damage to their vehicles and property?
In truth, my favourite thing to do is to film the police helicopters that patrol the skies. I then watch the footage for hours at a time celebrating the fact that tax payers are flipping the bill for them to be up there when that money could have been used for something purposeful.
I came across this ‘morning after’ photograph on a local website called Beyond Robson.
What did you see on the street?
For the last several years – not a thing. The reason? Because I stay as far away from it as is possible. Though during the seven years that I lived three blocks from English Bay I did see my fair share of interesting things.
1) Roaming groups of testosterone and alcohol fueled morons looking to start trouble with whoever was unlucky enough to catch their eye.
2) A lot of vomit on the streets, sidewalks, and grassy areas that front the neighbourhood’s apartment buildings.
3) Billowing clouds of dope smoke rolling around as if a fog had come in off the water.
4) Smashed bottles, discarded coffee cups, pop bottles, and a variety of other enjoyable litter.
5) That special brand of imbecility that only occurs when hundreds of thousands of people gather in the same place to watch explosions that produce colourful lights.
Did you see anything unusual on the beach?
In all the years that I lived by English Bay not once did I entertain the idea of showing up eight hours prior to the event to find a piece of beach or grass to sit on. But I will say that I have seen what the beach looks like the morning after, and it’s not a pretty sight. Mind you, that may have changed. It’s been a while since I went down there the morning after the fireworks. They could be employing cleanup crews to work through the night. If they are, I hope that they’re wearing boots, because there’s nothing better than walking on sharp objects and glass pushed into the sand.
Do you have a story to tell about the fireworks?
I have a novel.
It includes tales of tires being slashed, of underground parking lots being broken into and vehicles vandalized and robbed, of fights breaking out in the middle of streets at 4am, of loud music being blasted from cars, of dumpsters being lit on fire, of bottles being thrown against apartment building walls, of yelling matches in back alleys beneath the windows of residents at 5am, of sirens blaring in the night, of masses of people walking up from the beach trampling everything in their path, of stabbings, of vomit covering the front steps of buildings, and even a few of passed out bodies laying on lawns and benches the next morning.
To be honest, that’s just the tip of the iceberg.
One point I will stress, and this is something that goes entirely overlooked, is the affects that the fireworks themselves have on animals living in Stanley Park.
As some of you are aware, Stanley Park is the largest urban park in North America, larger than Central Park. That being the case, it is home to a variety of wildlife, mostly small animals. Unfortunately, their experience during the fireworks is quite different than ours, as my friend Angela points out…
“Each fireworks event wreaks havoc on the wildlife living in Stanley Park and surrounding areas – some are displaced from their nests fleeing frightening booms, some have fragile eardrums burst, and some are even found dead of apparent heart attacks due to the stress of the impacting vibrations. Wildlife Rescue records this the day after each event.”
We get it Matt, you hate the fireworks. So what do you suggest?
Ship them off to a location on the other side of the river that can accommodate the number of people that want to view them.
That won’t happen, of course, because no one over there would tolerate the overwhelming influx of people. So one has to ask – why do the residents of one of the most densely populated neighbourhoods in North America have to? Don’t get me wrong, Kits gets it just as bad. In fact, most of the communities along the water have to tolerate it on one level or another. But the fact remains that given the headache the fireworks cause, even if only on four days of the year, the residents of the communities affected should have the right to at least hold a referendum with regards to their continuation. Unfortunately, business concerns have far more to do with it than the concerns of residents, which is why the fireworks will be back next summer and the same shit show that occurs every year will, once again, go off without a hitch.
Yes, yes. I’m just a downer in a sea of contentment. I think we can all agree on that.