Candyfloss and fireworks

I've never understood Fireworks Night. Well, when I was six it made perfect sense, but not any more. Everyone knows that that bloke called Guy Fawkes tried to blow up the House of Lords with the King in it, but he was caught and tortured horribly until he gave away the names of his associates, and then killed in the slowest and most horrificly painful way possible .... so we celebrate it! Yay!
 However, it's not so much about Guy Fawkes himself any more. Every year most of the people I know go to the fireworks at Rivermead, where there's lots of little kids running around with glow sticks and things, and a wonderful smell of barbequed food, and music (they always play Firework by Katy Perry, and this year they played Gangnam Style and eveyone jumped around doing the official Gangnam Style dance and some people started a conga line). When the fireworks are about to start they do a countdown; little kids are lifted onto shoulders; people push their way to the front of the crowd....
 And then the fireworks start. The sparks swirl around like fishes but shine brighter than the stars. The field is soon full of smoke, which is lit up pink and green and gold. The noise comes from the sky and up through your feet. When you close your eyes you can still see their trails as though they're etched into the front of your brain. The crowd of us all staring up and going 'OOOOOH!' would have been a runner for the record of Most People All with Cricks In Their Necks. I was standing in the middle of the crowd with my sister, putting candyfloss in my mouth, with my eyes lit up like a little kid.
 If you ever have to do an essay on why you like 5th November celebrations, you can quote me.
 Now I'm off to help my sister work the television so we can curl up in armchairs and stare at the screen. =)