#firreworks

My favorite Greg Proops’ routine involves him talking about ‘Fuck Off Puritan’ day, the companion holiday to Independence Day in the UK. Whilst I’ve never yet managed to celebrate FOP Day, I did get the opportunity to celebrate Independence Day last week. I jokingly referred to it as Meat and Explosions Day. I wasn’t wrong.

There are three differences between Independence Day and Bonfire Night’s handling of fireworks. The first is exactly what fireworks are, or aren’t, handled. It’s illegal in California to launch bottle rockets, or aerial fireworks, without a permit because if you do, you have no control on where they land. This is a state filled with bone dry grass land so the wrong firework landing in the wrong place is a world of trouble for everybody. So much so in fact that there’s a thousand dollar fine for setting them off. Which, of course, stops no one. It does mitigate them though so bottle rockets still go off, they just tend to hurtle along at about four storeys up, like a really festive version of shock and awe.

The second major difference is in safety, both because of the bottle rockets and the distance from ground effect fireworks. I grew up in England where a wide varity of 1970s character actors spent much of the decade on TV yelling at me that if I stood within about thirty feet of a firework going off I might live as some hideously mauled shadow of the boy I once was, within twenty feet I’d die screaming and within ten all I’d see would be the bright flash and then the polite 1940s WAF angels would be welcoming me into heaven.

Distance isn’t really a factor in the US. The family members sat down maybe ten feet away and the intrepid younger generation spent the evening less than six feet away from the fireworks. We weren’t alone either, there were groups up and down the street doing the exact same thing.

The third major difference was, for want of a better word, exuberance. I’m a big fan of bonfire night, always have been, because it’s so utterly contradictory and so utterly British. We simultaneously pillory and burn in effigy a man who attempted to commit what would have been a defining domestic act of terrorism and lionize him at the same time. It’s a little reserved, a little polite, shuffled off to the corner as something for the kids whilst the rest of us turn up to a community fireworks display, watch it, eat a baked potato and go home.

In contrast, the 4th of July is exuberant, rowdy and a little martial. This is a military holiday after all, one built around a victory that defined the nation and as a result, it’s easy to understand why so many people of all ages are so exuberant. Where Bonfire Night is a salutation to a man with a big idea, regardless of how you feel about that idea, Independence Day is all about a definitive, undeniable victory. It’s a win, a cessation in hostilities and as a result the entire country lets it’s hair down.