Back in the 1970s, I remember fireworks. The men of the Fleetville Fire Co. would light them off in a predictable, yet dazzling way, usually ending with the signature waterfall. This very special display mimicked a cascading, peaceful water scene made entirely of harmless light. Ooh. Ahh.
In 1976, my neighbors celebrated the bicentennial with a modest display of fireworks that started at nightfall and ended shortly thereafter. Kids were allowed a few sparklers, some smoke bombs and some mysterious “snakes” that flamed out rather quickly. Then, the show was over and everyone turned in for the night.
This is a distant memory. Like most things that are good in small doses but quite annoying in overkill mode, Americans have taken a small tradition and turned it into a big ostentatious bang.
As I sit on my couch with Cocker Spaniel breath on the knee, the neighbors are already in breathless anticipation of July 4th. Not content to use moderation, the booms, bangs and blasts are permeating the air, turning our domestic tranquility into a baby Baghdad. I don’t know what it’s like where you live, but I can almost guarantee that you will be comforting a small child, tiny dog or burn victim by the time July 4th officially ends on July 18th or so.
Full disclosure: I have a little powder on my hands. When my kids were younger, they would beg, plead and do menial tasks in order to get the funds necessary to hand over to the guy down at the fireworks tent. Then, they would spend the day prior to Independence Day blowing up small plastic Batmen and other assorted action figures around the driveway. This reminds me of another child rearing story. I came home from work once and inquired why there was a naked Barbie doll on the roof. “It was an accident,” I was informed. I have enjoyed some neighborhood displays that make the professionals look like they didn’t spend enough. One year, my neighbor who should have been an arsonist took all the leftover debris from his fireworks display, poured gasoline all over it and lit. The next morning, there was a crispy crater smack dab in the middle of his yard. A good time was had by all but his lawn.
So, fireworks have been a part of my past, but I’m hoping to limit their use in the future. As I drove through town today, I noticed there was a firework tent for every 10 citizens or so, springing up in spots where kids congregate with cash. I’m sure many people are stockpiling enough merch to make the shelling of Fort McHenry look like a Bic flick. I know I’m just one person and I know that since July 4th is on a Saturday that this is a fruitless plea, but can everyone just skip one M 80 this year? I know you probably don’t care about my dog Buster, who is already in need of a hug, but how about these arguments:
Haven’t we given China enough? China has sucked up United States debt like my new Riccar vacuum inhales pet hair. So, why should we line their pockets with even more of our currency for dangerous, temporary, overpriced fireworks? Once you’ve blown up their ill-produced products, who will your personal injury attorney attack on your behalf? Lots of luck collecting that settlement, Jack. I’m positive you won’t. Also, don’t you complain all the time nothing’s made in America? I understand there is a Pennsylvania outfit that makes fireworks, but I’m sure they’re not as unstable as those bottle rockets you can’t live without.
Think of our veterans. I was watching a news report on TV today about the men and women who are bravely in combat overseas. Their lives are filled with unpredictable explosions and firefights. Now, many of them are home, trying to quietly put their lives back together. Give them a break. A woman once told me her neighbor, a veteran, drank until blackout in an attempt to alleviate the anxiety of Independence Day.
Think about it. And have a safe, emergency room free Fourth. You’ll thank me on the Fifth, or Nineteenth or whenever this bloody holiday is finally over.
Corbett
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