Fourth Becomes Unsafe and Insane

Friday, July 13, 2007

Page 11

AT THE SIDEBAR (Column)

Fourth Becomes Unsafe and Insane

By J’AMY PACHECO

I like celebrating the Fourth of July in a big way as much as the next guy.

Fireworks are illegal in my city, so my family usually travels to some kind of community production that involves big fireworks in the sky, and lots of people.

Last year, our pyrotechnic desires took us to Temecula, where we had the good fortune to attend a party at a private home. The party was so-so, but it ended beautifully – with everyone parked in the middle of the hilltop residential street in lawn chairs, having a front-row seat for the city’s fireworks, which were set off at the bottom of the hill and exploded literally in front of us. It was amazing.

This year, we went to a swimming party at a friend’s nearby home. Since I never willingly appear in public in a bathing suit, I mostly sat at a patio table with a bunch of other adults watching our kids frolic in the inviting water.

It was pretty tame family fun, and the most exciting thing that happened was the jeans-clad hostess being pushed in the pool by her brother. I couldn’t bear to see my pal suffer alone, so I jumped in, too. Fortunately, we live close enough that my husband was able to quickly retrieve dry clothing for his goofball wife.

When the sun went down, we drove in a caravan to a nearby community in which fireworks are legal. Not all fireworks, I might point out, just the kind labeled “safe and sane.” Our friends had purchased a bazillion dollars worth of these fireworks, and we drove around the city looking for a suitable, and legal, place to set them off.

We soon found a public park that was filled with people setting off fireworks – mostly in the parking lot, which made it extremely difficult to drive in and park.

I took the cautious route, and parked my Toyota on the street. My friends, however, drove their near-monster trucks right into the middle of the chaos.

And chaotic it was. Fireworks of all types and sizes exploded all around us, with shrieks and booms. The youngest children in our party – my own included – hid in the backseat of one of the trucks and cried for a while. I offered my daughter the opportunity to go home, but she wanted to see the fireworks.

I’d never seen anything like the scene at the park. Not only were fireworks going off all over the ground, but outlawed fireworks, including bottle rockets, were being shot off all over the place.

Professional-type fireworks exploded over the residential neighborhoods completely surrounding the park. Everywhere we turned, bright explosions colored the skies over the houses.

I’m not sure what amazed me more – the fact that the scene resembled something out of Apocalypse Now, or seeing a police officer ticketing a car in front of the park and then driving away while bottle rockets exploded out of beer bottles all around. (Incidentally, now I understand why they’re called bottle rockets.)

The scariest thing I saw was a device in the shape of a large box. When lit, the device shot fireworks into the air at regular intervals – sometimes as many as two dozen individual explosions. I don’t know where they came from, but nearly everybody at the park had at least one of these frightening things.

They were interesting to watch, but the mommy in me kept wondering what would happen if one tipped over and started sending its fireballs toward our low-key group of little girls waving sparklers.

When the group next to us decided to share its anti-woman rap music and duel one another with sparklers in each hand, we decided it was time to bail.

All the way home, I watched as fireworks exploded in the skies around us, including some over my own city. The only thing missing, I thought, was flying bullets from celebratory gunfire. But I’m pretty sure that was in there somewhere.

Rather than enjoying the festivities, I spent most of the evening worrying about someone getting hurt. It was the first time I thought maybe all do-it-yourself fireworks should be outlawed.

I suspect the goings-on may have been too much for the local police to handle, which would explain the priority given to traffic matters over the explosion of illegal devices. But the whole thing was, to put it mildly, nuts.

Next year, I think we’ll stay home. I’m all for independence, but at this point survival seems like a better choice…