Fireworks!

There are moments in life when you just have to stop and ask yourself, “What was I thinking?” I experienced one of those moments last July fourth. One could easily say that this was a comedy of errors that could have carried dire consequences. Luckily, only one man truly suffered. My poor neighbor committed the worst offense possible. He said to his wife, (who was six months pregnant) “Everything will be fine, I know what I am doing!” Then he did something so, typical.

Every year, this poor man buys hundreds of dollars worth of illegal fireworks. He lights them off during his annual July fourth cook out that is held in his backyard. We always have a great time, and he has a huge turnout. This year was no exception. He approached me and explained that his backyard held too many people and that his wife was “getting all paranoid” about the fireworks being lit off. I can’t imagine why! Her brother is missing his thumb from the infamous “M80 incident” when he was a teen. So, he asked me if he could light them off in my yard so that they were farther away from the tent and guests.

Here is that moment, folks! Like a fool, I said, “Yes.” Do you know how you just feel a bad thing coming in the pit of your stomach? Well, I just chalked it up to eating too much potato salad. I was wrong. Everything went well, until I breathed a sigh of relief as he lit off the grand finale. There were five large mortars set up on a board in the grass. He lit all five at once. The blast of the first one tipped the board, aiming the remaining four at my family room window. Needless to say, the “grand finale” went off in my family room. That is, of course, after they blew through my brand new window. Then there was the astute observation of my one inebriated neighbors who said, “WOW! That wudda have been rully cool if the blinds weren’t down!” The other, slightly less inebriated fools thought that they could put the fire out with a garden hose. Too bad it was about seventy five feet too short! Luckily, one man had the presence of mind to grab the sofa cushions that were on fire and take them outside.

That’s right, as luck would have it, all that I lost was a fifteen year old sofa and an insured window. My neighbor, on the other hand, lost much more than that. When I arrived home from work the following day, I saw my window boarded up, and lovingly wrapped in clear plastic. Then there was an even more pitiful sight than that. My neighbor was on his hands and knees picking up every single minuscule piece of paper from my yard. Anyone who has lit off fireworks knows the mess that they make, and he had lit enough to consume three hours of entertainment. His wife stood over him with her arms folded and planted firmly on her ample belly. The look on her face, as she pointed to every piece of paper that he had missed, could run a man’s blood cold. I looked at his dejected demeanor, and I realized that he had lost more than just his pride that day. He had lost the ability to ever win another argument with his wife. I think that, all things considered, my damage was much less than his.

There is a lesson here for all those who want to hear it. The phrase “famous last words” didn’t come about accidentally. That man will remember those words for the rest of his married life. I have only one piece of advice for him. You better buck up honey, it is going to be a very long forty or fifty years!