Homecoming for a narcissist on the Fourth of July

For a period of time years ago I commuted on the railroad. At the time I remember reading somewhere that the Japanese actually employed people in the subways to push people onto the trains, to make sure they were fully packed. I got the idea the reverse of that might actually be pleasant, the idea that it would be nice to be greeted even when you finished such a simple trip as a commuter train ride. Might actually be a nice job to be a greeter in the subway. Walmart then took the idea to new heights or lows, not sure which.

So later in life when I was making longer voyages including some across the ocean, I was always conscious that no one was ever there to meet me. At times I even fantasized how nice it would be to have someone waiting on the dock at the end of a voyage, someone who really wanted to see me, Never happened,

So last night it was quite the wonderful surprise when I came around the curve where the road opens up along the river and all these people on the gravel shore set off a bunch of colorful fireworks to welcome me home from a long day at work. In a quick survey it looked like there could have been a hundred vehicles parked on the beaches on both sides of the bridge.

Tonight there was an even bigger show, so many fireworks a thick layer of smoke hung in the air over the river. Two nights in a row welcomed home with fireworks can go to a guy’s head.

It could even suppress the vision of fireworks in the rear view mirror as Anchorage celebrated my departure shortly after I left work.