Today’s fireworks are better than they ever were back when I was a child, but today there are more “rules” and “laws” for people to follow.

When I was “younger” we used to just blow things up. Cans, bottles, yards, etc., just to see what would happen.

I would take the precious dollars that I made mowing yards and buy fireworks and soon I found out that it did not take very long for the money I spent to go up in smoke. But it was fun, while it lasted. As I grew older and made more money, I could spend more on fireworks. I think this lasted until I was about 30 years old.

Today there are certain days and certain hours that you can shoot fireworks. Some cities in Montana don’t allow it at all. Other cities have passed ordinances to curtail the shooting of fireworks.

Many years ago, my family and some friends attended a show in the city where we now live. We decided to watch the show from a local city park. It was like a war zone there. People were shooting off firecrackers right beside us…and they were drunk. Their aim was terrible. They hit people. We never went back there. Now, it’s against the law.

My favorite fireworks were bottle rockets. You could really have tons of fun shooting bottle rockets at your friends. There were thousands of sticks from bottle rockets littering the yards and on the streets. One time a friend and I decided to shoot one at an older lady who was walking home from the store. We did. She called my mommy. I got in big trouble.

Roman candle fights were very much the norm back then. It’s a wonder I survived some of those fights. Roman candles were more expensive than bottle rockets, so they were used sparingly.

The 500 and 1000 packs of firecrackers were fun, too. We rolled them up and taped them together. One time I was going to throw a pack of 500 firecrackers in the back of my friend’s pickup truck as he was driving by. I threw it too early and they went inside the cab of the pickup. I thought my friend would wreck or get burned. I also figured I was going to get the crap pounded out of me if he did live.

Luckily he lived, along with his passenger. They thought it was so funny that the story was retold over and over. It soon became part of folklore. I was the man. His truck smelled like gunpowder for weeks after that.

As stories grow older, they become more bizarre. Someone told me a couple of years later that they heard I threw 10,000 firecrackers into his truck that were shaped and painted like a stick of dynamite. I went along with the story…

I had a few fingers burned during those days. I never lost any, although you might think I did by the way my typing looks sometimes.

So, have a safe and happy 4th of July. Let’s be careful out there! Keep low, wear protective clothing, and don’t break the law!