Fireworks in Las Vegas neighborhoods have reached the point of skirmishes in Afghanistan. Rockets whistled over our house, missiles hissed, screamed, exploded, and landed in our back yard and on our roof.
Enemy civilians from nearby homes claimed part of our yard, and now we can’t back our cars out without violating an uneasy boundary line separating territories.
These fireworks are so over the top I heard glass breaking. I’m not making that up. I thought the living room window had blown out. I was in the back yard when one went off right over the roof. After I reached up and put my heart back in my chest where it had flown out of my mouth, I checked for fire.
I was right when I guessed later that it was shrapnel:
If we’d wanted to have a get together ourselves in OUR back yard, we wouldn’t have been able to. Who wants to sit under fire works and shrapnel spraying down on them?
This morning I got on the horn and called Code Enforcement who put me through to the fire department. I talked to a young man who said he goes through the same thing every year. He was picking mortar pieces out of his pool this morning. Hundreds of dogs run away every year.
He said they used to go out and confiscate fireworks, but since they don’t carry guns and the partiers were usually drunk, they got into too many confrontations that ended badly.
Then I called my council member’s office. Left a message there, and moved on to the mayor’s office. Talked to a young man who listened sympathetically and promised to pass on my message to the mayor.
Each said the same thing: That it’s too hard to enforce the laws against these huge rockets and police the neighborhoods. It’s a valley wide problem here. Nye County has no laws against the sale and use of them, so people bring them to Clark County and set them off for a week before the Fourth and a week after. Fortunately, the worst of it is over the night of the Fourth.
Not only that, but the corner booths that sell them are fund raising groups. Perhaps for the re-building and repair of houses burned down by missile fire, or to pay for medical burn treatments for people.
Our street is a narrow residential street, so when the douches across the street set their rockets off, with their small children standing nearby, it’s like they’re going off in our front yard. Mix it all up in the lab with the alcohol they’d been consuming, and you’ve got quite a war going on.
We were threatened with being shot when we went outside to see if the car windows had been broken. We already have a history with the drug raddled and alcohol soaked young men across the street.
We got through to 911 after thirty minutes of a busy signal to report the threats and the war zone situation, but by the time the police arrived, the cockroaches had disappeared down their holes. Funny how brave they are until reinforcements show up.
There’s a town hall meeting coming up, so I might show up and see if it’s any use to voice my concerns.
Here’s a news report from last year in Las Vegas, where people were still setting off fireworks down the street from where firefighters were working to put out a fire. It says nothing will be done until ‘something drastic happens’. Like a young girl getting burned over 50 percent of her body?
Next year we might leave for the evening, but I’m afraid of what might happen while we’re gone. What if one of those M1502000As (the A stands for Afghanistan) sets the house on fire? What if one does break a window?
I might even park our cars in front of the house, and begin a three hour car wash. I figure water spraying out over the street might get a few hundred dollars worth of fireworks real soggy.