FROM THE EDITOR
‘‘It’s better to burn out than to fade away.’’
As Guy Fawkes Night came and went with little lustre, and the usual amount of grumbles, I wondered whether this well-worn Neil Young lyric should apply for this once luminous pastime.
I’ve always been an advocate for lighting the fuse on November 5; I remember Guy Fawkes Night being as big as Christmas when I was a kid. It often coincided with the first barbecue of the summer, I was allowed to stay up late, and Dad had usually amassed a mighty pile of grapevines and boxes for our Guy to burn from.
I’d love for my kids to have a similar experience, but so much seems to work against it: an impractical suburban backyard; an overpriced, under-wowing availability of crackers; and a general air of ambivalence with most people already bracing for the two-month endurance campaign of Christmas.
Those nights of ‘‘ooohhs’’ and ‘‘aaahhs’’ when skyrockets bloomed, seem long ago.