Last night I attended my second fire run.
There was only one correfoc team participating, as opposed to billion that came out for Gracia's festival. This meant there wasn’t as many chances to dance around with the fire runners and wonder if the fun actually outweighs the pain as any square-centimeter of exposed skin is repeatedly singed by hundreds of flickering firework embers.
There also wasn’t a dude walking around with a 2-liter bottle of a mysterious flammable liquid that he would gulp, then spit in the air to form massive fire bombs.
There also were no floats covered in an obscene amount of fireworks that would somehow sneak up behind you, then detonate with enough decibels to keep your ears ringing for a solid 24 hours.
And tragically, there was no sparkling Ninny (RIP, Rest In Phoenix).
But this run took place 100 yards from my front door and aside from a date with an icecream sandwich, I had nothing else going on at 11 pm last night.
The performers known as the Diables de Casc Antic put on a solid show that also doubled as a recruiting performance.
How can I join these guys? Do they have practice runs? How knowledgeable are they about fireworks? How does one join a correfoc team? Exactly how fun is it to wear cheesy 1980s-neon-green-shades, go up to two homeless guys and spray them with sparks? So many questions.
Also on Saturday night Sarah and I attended the kiddie-run-fire-run. Turns out they give any kid old enough to hold a pitchfork (Sarah’s expert eye estimates there were 4-year-olds) the exact same fireworks they give adults.
|The little tike in action.|
|The tike-ito prepping on the left.|
|Sarah shielding herself and ruining my picture.|