A lot of persons remember what it used to be like to be younger, to be a pint-sized kid living out their childhood in their own unique fashion. A few such persons might also remember what its like to have one chocolate or sweet too many, that feeling that cannot be described as mere fullness but rather a feeling of not ‘ever’ wanting to take another sweet again… well… until the feeling passes, that is.

Well some people who perhaps do not recall such feelings or experiences do not need to pile on the calories in search of the feeling mentioned. Every summer they get the opportunity to experience something somewhat similar practically on a weekly-basis. I do of course refer to the ‘Maltese festa’ that some think so highly of.

Now I have to admit it. Once upon a time I was utterly fascinated by fireworks, of the strange contraptions that banged and boomed and sent colourful sparkles flying in every which direction in the darkened sky. The daytime petards were never really my cup of tea but, oh well, there wasn’t much that a kid could do other than bear them. I did very much enjoy the grounded firework’s display, watching the more colourful pyrotechnics at play upon haphazardly oscillating stands affixed loosely into the ground, and occasionally wondered if one might take off. Whether fortunately or not such never happened and the child was left to wonder over the arcane secrets of the unknown that might have been.

However many years have passed since those heady days when the distant musical jingle of the ice cream van’s approach, the polishing of small fragments of calcite, the sculpting of sand upon the beach, and computer games constituted matters of importance. Likewise I have grown more weary of the acrid smoke cloud that envelopes all in the vicinity of the setting off of land-locked firework shows, I have grown more aware of the implications of the shock waves left rippling through the air by each petard set off in the heavens above, and I have since realized that there exists such a concept as opportunity cost, the concept that one’s choices in life tend to come at the expense of foregoing others – particularly in the context of having access to limited resources. Last that I heard not only is Malta a place of very limited resources but we are a nation saddled with debts.

What are we celebrating for? Is it truly necessary to have simultaneous feasts in two or more parts of the islands? Do we realize just how much we spend upon fireworks in terms of money and blood? Do fireworks ‘need’ to be an integral part of ‘every’ feast?

I do realize that this all makes me seem like a wet blanket, like others before me, but would it really be so great a hardship if the number of feasts celebrated were slashed by a factor of two or three? This way collective agreements could be made between localities to pool resources in order to present a better-planned and financed show. The quality of such shows should therefore increase and overall satisfaction garnered amongst the population ought to increase also, less jaded by the sheer repetition of the fare available.

Would it also be anathema to suggest that feasts be something more than a church, a row of stalls and food sellers, and a fireworks show? Would it not be interesting if, say, a food seller’s fare were to be subsidised through some of the funds that would otherwise have gone up in acrid smoke and flashes? After all, festivities are every bit about culinary satisfaction as the visuals and the audio.

Might it also be anathema to suggest that the production of fireworks be limited to specifically licensed zones where containment is plausible and quality assurance could be easier monitored? After all, while pretty the fireworks themselves have proven time and time again to pose a potentially lethal hazard in imperfect circumstances.

This entry was posted on Saturday, August 23rd, 2008 at 11:59 pm and is filed under Local Affairs. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.