PRTQ Remix: A Commemorative Audio Sculpture

I'm glad you found it and thanks for the kind comment.

you've made a great piece here. I've been inexcusably tardy in thanking you for putting it together. It's awesome! And your round one entry was amazing too. You've so obviously got the charm and chops to do whatever the heck you want in this world. Go get 'em!

Lend me an underwater puppet some time? Best of luck in Round 2. I'm listening to all ten entries now....

Good of you to drop by and give a listen.

i got mad luv for yah!

...except for all the fun I'm still having. Thanks, misspeter.

.

punkrock name to boot, J-Bang -- more radio for your buck.

Well, the name sure came in handy for my father in one of his many pursuits: designing and shooting fireworks shows professionally.

Like a doctor called Pain.
Fireworks are big business up here in Alaska. Strange, since we don't have darkness for half the year. Instead of Fourth of July celelbrations, we watch them at New Year's.

My first dentist really WAS Dr. Payne! So now I go to Dr. Pullem. I just can't win.

who gave me my driving test was called Officer Heiney. I'll never forget it.

so did you love fireworks or hate them?

I love them. Dad's deep affection for his craft rubbed off on me.

The truck filled with shells and mortars would come from Pennsylvania a couple of days before the 4th. He'd be up half the night in our garage arranging shells by size, color, the height at which they exploded, explosion pattern and so forth. He planned the entire show from first salute to grand finale. His shows were spectacular.

(I'm dying to tell you something...)

up half the night in our garage arranging shells by size, color, the height at which they exploded, explosion pattern and so forth. He planned the entire show from first salute to grand finale. His shows were spectacular

What's that they say about the acorn not falling too far from the tree or something like that?

I was thinking about your story later the day you posted this and I realized that you have described almost exacty what you did with our pieces - you arranged them by size, color, the height at which they exploded, explosion pattern and so forth and planned this collage from the first salute to grand finale.

Interesting, eh?

I bet my dad secretly wanted to be your dad. My mom was deathly afraid of fireworks and would not have stood for it for a minute. Still every 4th my dad turns into a kid, sneaks off somewhere and drops what must be a bundle on a stash. Then he goes out past the barn like the pied piper with a blowtorch (yes a blowtorch)and a gaggle of my young cousins, nieces and nephews falling in line behind him, while my mom stands nervously on the porch watching the display. She reserves very mild oos and ahhs for only the prettiest. She hates the ones that just go boom. (So do I actually.) For her, every fourth that goes by is another narrowly diverted disaster. She has a "kiss the ground" moment when it's over, counting the fingers and toes and eyeballs of everyone returning from the field, no doubt saying a little prayer over each intact digit and every set of two eyes.

I had to read that first line a few times:

I bet my dad secretly wanted to be your dad.

There are just too many ways to interpret that.

I must get more coffee...

-Rich

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Such a lovely piece of editing, and then another great haiku! I love how this site is showcasing creativity behond hostiness!

Thanks for a wonderful monument to our quest, Jennifer!