The other night as I was listening to the rockets’ red glare and bombs bursting in air, I got to thinking about what the way in which people shoot off their fireworks says about their personalities.
First, we have the seemingly very few of us who are ultra-cautious law abiding citizens who enjoy the show put on by the surrounding neighborhoods but do not personally shoot fireworks. This is a group to which I relate and understand. Personally, I don’t venture beyond sparklers and snakes because I am too cheap and figuring in the cost of gas, it would be cheaper to burn my actual money than drive all the way to Wisconsin or Missouri to purchase fireworks. The other reason and probably more influential is my fear of getting caught. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of people in our town light fireworks from sometime in June through August, maybe saving a few for New Year’s Eve. I figure the one time I would try to put on my own show, I would either get stopped at the border or caught lighting them; either way they’d be confiscated and I would feel even worse about spending the money because I didn’t get the pleasure of blowing it up.
Second, we have the early birds. These individuals have not quite grown up. They have their hundreds of dollars of fireworks but cannot wait until night falls before using them. So they are out at 8:30 when the sun is setting but it is not yet dark, unable to resist their pyrotechnicican hiding inside bursting to get out. There are several of these child-like fireworkers in our neighborhood as the bottle rockets start screaming and firecrackers start popping shortly after dinner-time. The real impatient ones confuse Memorial Day with Independence Day and start using their fireworks at the end of May.
Third, we have the “average” people whose personalities fall somewhere in the middle of the bell curve. The explosions in our neighborhood become increasingly frequent until they reach a crescendo at about 10 p.m. and continue, making it seem as if we’re in the middle of a war zone until about 10:30 p.m. when, I assume, they’ve run out of fireworks—a direct correlation to when they ran out of money at the fireworks stand. Colored fire in the night sky must be addictive because once the fireworks start, it seems they are cumpulsed to light one right after the other until they’ve shot off every explosive they can get their hands on.
Next, there are the few, the disciplined, diligent, masterful, irreverent few who are able to delay gratification. They are able to portion out their fireworks, do a little here and a little there, making them last well into the night. I bet these are the same people who can buy a box of their favorite cookies and eat one each day while the rest of us may open the box with that intention but a half an hour later are left with a lap full of crumbs. Some of these people are too pragmatic, however, lighting their fireworks every 15-20 minutes until 2 or 3 in the morning. I wonder what these people do between shoot-offs. Are they sitting in their houses, chewing their nails, watching the clock and counting the seconds? Or maybe they sleep and set their alarms. And is it really a strategy to make the magic last or to avoid being caught by the police? I suspect it is probably some of both.
Finally, we have those completely alien to me—those who do not go for the pretty lights in the sky, the glittering ashes, or starburst configurations but just seem to enjoy the noise. I see the attraction of the traditional fireworks, to light up the night, striving to rival the grand-finale at municipality sponsored fireworks displays, to see their children’s faces lit up in shades of red and green, dazzled with the joy of discovering what happens when grown-ups play with fire. I enjoy the sizzle of what I call the popcorn-fireworks and anticipating the thunder from the explosion as it hurls through the night from the point of ignition. I do not see the pleasure in the “bang” from firecrackers or giant “boom” from M-80s without the pretty lights. And it is hard to say any more about it because I just don’t get it.
But I realize that is the point. Though they are illegal, people can and do still set off fireworks. Unless they have party-pooper neighbors, light them as a police officer happens to be driving by or wear out their welcome into the wee hours of the morning, they will be allowed to carry on. Sure they may blow up their hand, blow out their teeth (lesson from my father-in-law—never hold a lit firework in your mouth), get them confiscated, get a fine or whatever such offenders get, but they can still make that choice. And that’s what independence day is about—the freedom to choose how to blow your money, to take the chance, and take the consequences. USA is freedom to choose WITHOUT INFRINGING ON SOMEONE ELSE’S RIGHTS so please buy the best fireworks you can afford so my family can enjoy them without spending a penny, BUT if you are in my neighborhood, it is 2 a.m. and you’ve not depleted your arsenal but can’t wait until another night, you better hope I’m really tired because I WILL call the police. Too much of good thing is not a good thing, especially at 2 a.m.
