When I was somewhere between high school and college, my brother and I went to Borger, TX for July 4th. Now, because I’m from a metropolitan area (yep, we consider that “metro”), we had to travel outside of city limits to enjoy the wonders of fireworks. Borger celebrated a little differently. The have “bottle rocket wars” between yards and sometimes across streets. As insane as this was, it not only proved that Texans sometimes are complete idiots even without the influence of tremendous amounts of alcohol, but also that, as I was standing in one backyard with about fifteen guys and one screaming girl dodging incoming bottle rocks that were flying towards the earth at close to 150 miles per hour…the male species acts like a fool sometimes.
It’s in our wiring. We’re just that way. We gravitate toward danger and we found out early that there’s nothing quite as dangerous and combustable than fire and gun powder. From the early days of enjoying Yosemite Sam lighting blowing the ass off his own pants with some of that quality Looney Tunes’ TNT, we knew what went “pow” and “boom” and July 4th plays into that very fascination.
It’s not a question of intelligence. It’s a level of curiosity and impulse. Not only are 90% of convicted arsons males (I’m no statistician, but I’d say that’s “statistically significant”) but, as it pertains to our holiday weekend, boys are three times more likely to be injured in a firework-related incident. That’s 75% of the time. It doesn’t help when boys are duct taping M80s to their crotch.
You don’t want that thing for later?
This is the video that the Virginia Beach Fire Department released this year to hit on firework safety. I always love these videos. There’s really nothing more American than fire departments across the country using the holiday as an opportunity to tape explosives to the hands of mannequins to see how much damage they can do. I’m particularly fond of the one where there’s a piece of dynamite on a table with a mannequin stooped over it, looking down on it as the fuse disappears. Under what circumstance would this be a July 4th celebration? Who celebrates by taking fireworks indoors, putting them on the dining room table, lighting the fuse and then standing over it waiting to have your face blown into the next zip code? Whatta bummer party. I have a feeling someone either that hell bent on self-destruction or that drunk on Maddog doesn’t have time for the fire department’s public service announcement. They’re too busy putting glass packs on their primer grey Honda Del Sol and watching re-runs of “Jersey Shore.”
Particularly interesting, this year, that not only are they trying to detonate and obliterate mannequins and fruits as well, but they’ve reached out an got a couple of girl mannequins to be equal in their destruction. But, to be accurate, they use the considerably less exciting “sparklers” that one friend is stabbing another friend with until she lights on fire. That’s the failure in these demonstrations. Yeah, I get it except the subject you’re using is a psycho mannequin who is trying to kill her friend.