Doing battle with daily dragons

Monday, November 07, 2005

Fireworks: Part Deux

I would like to make a tiny addendum to my earlier remarks about fireworks. Specifically, the reticence I showed in banning them to prevent them from falling into the hands of the terminally stupid.

Last night we attended a celebration in honour of the Cheerful Idiot’s son’s third birthday. A truly fantastic little kid. Gregarious, sociable and smart; he could probably calculate pi to the 20th digit if you gave him the right calculator. Exaggeration aside, he was certainly more clever than the rest of us as he elected to remain indoors and watch the firework display that his father had arranged for him rather than standing outside with the rest of us, who clearly didn’t have the Idiot’s past exploits in mind when we stepped out the door.

Not having grown up in a State where home displays were legal, I’ve always looked on people I know setting off highly explosive devices as not being a Good Idea. This goes doubly for the Idiot, who has had various accidents involving frozen basketball poles, a load of mirrors, a black diamond run and a bruised ego.

The small display turned into an exercise for the fleet of foot as not one but TWO Roman Candles weren’t properly anchored into the soil and toppled over propelling very small, hot balls of gas and colour in our direction and sending us all diving for cover. (It’s just as well that, by this time, The Idiot’s son had become bored of watching the fireworks from his nan’s bedroom window and was having a story. He probably would never have been persuaded to go to a display again.) Not only that, but one of the rockets (again, not completely pushed into the soil) left the earth with it’s stick still attached and came plummeting down to stick into the earth like a smoking spear about 4 feet from where we were all standing.

I won’t even go into what happened to the Catherine Wheels.