In my childhood, I lit sparklers during the 4th of July.
That’s it…no rockets, no spinners, no barbecue.
We talked about the reason we celebrated the holiday: Our founding fathers declared their independence from England on July 4, 1776. It was the beginning of an arduous road to freedom, filled with hardships and great sacrifices by the signers of that declaration.
My love for fireworks died when my 2nd hubby and I took our son to a 4th of July celebration in Madison, Wisconsin. Not even half way through the display, the face of the fireworks handler lit up, as if his entire head was the lampshade.
Fortunately, we were among the first to leave the area after the ambulance arrived to take the corpse away.
Every year, someone loses a hand, an eye, a foot, or a life when these mini-bombs explode too soon.
Every year, my dogs and cats try desperately to find respite from the noise.
Every D@#$%d year, my neighbors start setting off fireworks the day before. On July 4th, it is unrelenting from 9:00pm to midnight. On July 5th, it took them an hour to use up the leftovers.
It isn’t just our dogs and cats who are affected.
Children with autism can have the same reaction to fireworks.
The lack of common sense used by people who won’t leave fireworks displays to experts seems to be equal to the lack of knowledge about why we celebrate the holiday.
When my dogs are shaking with fear, cuddled against me and whimpering, I think about the selfishness of people who just have to have fireworks displays in their back yards.
I imagine drunken people setting off a fireworks rocket: How would they feel if it lodged into the head of a child and exploded.
They’d probably try to sue the rocket manufacturer.