I love these slices of America that feel vintage, as if some spirit has been preserved. Before buildings and downtowns get makeovers, before small ranch houses get torn down and replaced by luxury condos, before Mom and Pop shops give way to malls and other developments. It feels nice to run into something original. Even if it’s as simple as ice cream on a Saturday night.

I had visions of Rockefeller Center dancing in my head when I heard about a tree lighting in the beach town just north of mine. Now, to be clear, I assure you I did realize there would be a difference. Like, a big one.

This is just a firework, and a mediocre one at that, but it's a firework that was set off in my hometown, above the baseball fields in the town park. Other than Christmas, I go home so seldom that I think this past weekend may have been the first time in over a dozen years that I was around for the annual summer festival.

Or whatever they are. (Firs?) I don't really know trees, but I grew up positively surrounded by them. It's always funny to hear people talk about how "green" Cleveland is, because are these people insane? They don't know green.