It was a recession buster. Thousands of Cowtowners flocked to or near the Plaza to sniff burning wood and listen to, what in my humble opinion, passes for New Age Muzak while watching a small cadre of fire-toting types do their thing.
Given my skepticism re the hipness quotient of WaterFire, one organizer suggested I bring my twin 12 year-old daughters to the smoke out to revel in their childish delight.
The good news; I took him up. The bad; ditto.
Daughter Liza’s initial take on the the subdued spectacle of burning pylons, PA-blared music and the odd pyro-wielding fire tosser:
“This is boring. Because all they’re doing is is having fire and this guy juggling.”
And the music?
“I don’t like the music,” she says. “”I don’t like this kind of music. I