by Dave Ellis

The 4th of July is special in my family. Not only is it my brother Jason’s birthday but it is also my daughter Hattie’s birthday. We spend that day being thankful to live in a country where we can show our patriotism by setting off fireworks and waving flags that were both made in another country. But the most funnest (it will be a word if we all start using it) part of the day is lighting off fireworks!
Who here loves fireworks? Raise your charred limbs high!

Fireworks have always been used to celebrate Independence Day. They represent the time when our forefathers fought oppression by throwing poppers at the enemies feet and then scaring them off with sparklers. These brave soldiers were called ‘minute men’ because it took forty-five seconds to light a sparkler and they burned out in fifteen seconds. I think Paul Revere shot two roman candles off and had sparklers in his mouth while riding a horse or something. If you like learning about American history you can read more on my blog.

Just because fireworks look like fun doesn’t mean you should take safety for granted. I know they seem safe, from the moment you light them with fire until the moment they explode, but you do need to exercise caution. I tell you this as a resident expert with charred fingers and mild hearing loss.

We used to be really stupid. We meaning anyone related to me with an XY set of chromosomes. If you read the instructions on the fireworks you know that you should wear safety glasses, put the ordnance on the ground, light it and run. If you are an Ellis boy, you read the instructions while the fuse is burning. It’s really a quick read. You then throw the ordinance at your brother. This is what insurance companys call a ‘recreational risk’.

The worst time I had with fireworks was when a jumping-jack landed on my head and danced around. This would explain my premature balding and my aversion to the exercise named jumping-jacks. A more weak individual would have never messed with fireworks again but as my father says “If you fall of a horse get back on and shoot roman candles from both hands while holding sparklers in your mouth.” He’s not known for his sayings.

The above activities happened during my upbringing in Alaska. This state is known as the last frontier because much of the state is still untouched and also you can legally buy M-80 firecrackers to blow stuff up. We would use M-80s to see how high in the sky we could blow my mom’s bread pans. There was really no harm in it, for us, but the pans were ruined. We then moved on to putting firecrackers into my little brother’s toy guns. When the fireworks ran out we’d have match wars, lighting matches and throwing them at each other. It’s amazing that five out six of us turned out alright.

Now that I have a son I have decided that he can’t read this article. Sure it will be tough to go through life illiterate, but that’s better than a literate guy with no fingers. Here in Nevada we are pretty limited to whatever the fireworks stand sells. You can make the run out of town to get the high octane stuff but you’re safer, along with your neighbors, if you stick to the stuff that shoots confetti rather than fiery death. The other option is to get dressed up in your best 18th century garb (wigs and tights for the fellas) and fire your muskets into the air. This would be a more realistic Independence Day celebration. Just remember to give yourself forty-five seconds to light the sparklers.