The big fireworks displays went on hiatus as the country continues to combat COVID-19.

Neighborhood folks in Chicago picked up the slack…and then some. I don’t remember ever seeing or hearing such a constant string of fireworks. For weeks leading up to Independence Day, explosions peppered in the distance as I wound down my evenings. The 3rd and 4th – last Friday and Saturday – the sky lit up from the North Side to the South Side. The barrage of fireworks delighted kids, empowered pyros and frightened dogs all across Chicago.

Friday I went to a very small backyard fire pit gathering in Bucktown. Got so high that, when tasked with taking a leftover pizza home with me, I was unable to complete the task.  I somehow managed to lose track of the pizza during my six block walk home. Now…that’s good weed, eh?  Perhaps the pops and blasts shooting into the sky distracted me.  The truth is out there…but we’ll never know for sure what happened to that missing thin crust.

Saturday my friend Spud had a backyard party in Beverly. The rule is > 50 people and this was well below that number, even if you count all the kids running around. Pop’s Beef catered the event. I made a combo with the Italian sausage and beef.

Pop’s giardiniera is different, but good.

Played some bags, drank a couple beers and found our way out to the driveway as night fell and fireworks started going off left and right. I said goodbye to head back North around 9:30 and my ride home was like a 4th of July parade.

103rd Street:

Dang, lotta dead bugs on my windshield.

The Dan Ryan drive was spectacular (a statement that’s never before been uttered) as both sides of the expressway shot off fireworks timed as if a choreographer was running the show.

The fireworks portion of our summer may be winding down with the passing of the holiday…but usually fireworks guys overbuy. I expect to hear more booms in coming weekends. Sorry, dogs.