One Million Tiny Fireworks

Developmentally it's been said we doctors are a little slow. Life's milestones are delayed. We marry later, start families later, buy houses later, and start wearing our pants above our belly buttons all a little bit later. The continuous cycling of school and training, long work hours, and general social isolation all serve to make us a little retarded maturationally* speaking. Thus whereas most thirty year olds are living upstanding lives as industrious citizens by generally shirking all responsibility we are avoiding responsibility altogether by garnering ever greater levels of debt and inflated senses of self-worth. I have just gotten through my teenage years myself, thank you very much, and am confident that hanging out late all night in college is totally going to rule.**

Physically, however, the opposite is true. We old. Nothing brings about an early bed time better than incessant call. Our backs are stooped, we have no idea what day it is, and sometimes I find myself gumming my food even though I know I still have a full complement of teeth. This is never more evident than on New Year's Eve every December. Last year we spent a subdued evening watching the ball drop in New York at 11:00 followed by bed, and this year we spent a subdued evening watching the ball drop in New York at 11:00 followed by bed. We even had a mashed desert (banana custard and Nilla wafers) and a lively game of Bananagrams. Paul fell asleep on the couch at like 09:30 and the Yorkies refused to wear their party hats. Sometimes I don't know what to make of all this medicine business. Thankfully in a few years all I will remember is how young Ryan Seacrest used to look. Unfortunately I'll probably also forget my complete domination of Bananagrams.


Rapidly advancing senility aside, the real reason I want to write? Fireworks. Given the opportunity to return to my apartment at 11:30 I was once again able to witness the cities fireworks from the comfort of my dorm room. Although the video is unfortunately not entirely clear -- or steady, damn you Parkinson's -- there was exploding color and fire from horizon to horizon. Near 180 degrees of my own personal fireworks sampler.

Happy New Years to all my family and friends at the VFW!

*Yes, this is a word. No, don't look it up.

**Totally.