Growing up in Texas, I came to regard fireworks as the sort of thing seen only on the most special of occasions. Why? Well, during the warm season, my corner of Texas - it’s a big state, after all - was a tinderbox of dry grassland, dead lawns, and goofy McMansions (in Mediterranean style, no less) with wood shingles. When a simple cigarette butt tossed from a moving pickup is enough to ignite the sort of conflagration that draws TV news choppers and every fire department within a hundred mile radius, there’s not much use for rocket’s red glare or bombs bursting in air. Of course, there’s no shortage of folks who nonetheless risk setting their backyards ablaze each 4th of July (Texas is a “red” state, after all), but, for the most part, the shooting off of fireworks is generally left to professionally-trained pyromaniacs.
Should you find yourself rolling into a town of virtually any size in Texas, you’ll no doubt find evidence of the state’s pervasive fireworks paranoia. Underneath the city limits sign, the out-of-date population sign, the youth curfew sign, the “Drug-Free Community” (if you say so) sign, and the “Home of the [insert local high school mascot, most likely some sort of very large cat]” sign, expect to find the “Possession of fireworks within city limits is punishable by $5,000 fine and a swift kick to the head” sign. So, if you’re still anxious to put an eye out with a Roman Candle, make sure you do so on unincorporated land. Note that rural fire and medical services often leave a little something to be desired.
Things are different here in Nebraska, however. For the most part, fireworks are available year round, although sales are “officially” limited to the week or so leading up to the 4th of July. And, since watching corn grow gets old by about the second week of June, you can bet folks of all ages take advantage of the firework-friendly environment. While this past New Year’s paled in comparison to the one I spent in a Honolulu highrise a few years back (clearly, the locals were stockpiling for the coming revolution), there were still loud reports from surrounding neighborhoods once the clock struck midnight… and 1AM… and 2AM… and 3:17AM, for that matter. With a view here at home that spans the entire Omaha metropolitan area, the ringing in of the new year was as colorful as it was annoying.
But what of the 4th of July? According to friends and family, it’s worse. Exponentially. And you know what? I believe them. Why? Because fireworks just went on sale today, and it already sounds like New Year’s. Perhaps they’re celebrating Custer’s Last Stand.
