I can’t think of anything more frustrating for a 13-year-old boy than to have a big sack of things that go boom in the night and nowhere to shoot them off.
We had passed a fireworks store in New Hampshire as we were leaving Soulfest 2013 on Saturday to drive to Connecticut (we flew into Hartford) and Chandler begged me to stop. I obliged, because I figured if they sold them, you could shoot them. Well as it turned out you can … in New Hampshire, but most of what we had in our boom bag was illegal in Connecticut. I wish someone had told me that or we would have shot them all off before we left the state.
I was figuring all of New England was the same. Everything is so lush and relatively damp in the summer due to frequent thunderstorms, unlike California which is so dry and brown, I can understand why most fireworks there are illegal. We stayed over an extra day so I could preach in a church in Waterbury, Connecticut and I was figuring on the pastor knowing a perfect place to clandestinely shoot off our stash of ariel bombardment Sunday night. (Everything had been 2 for 1 in the fireworks store so we had made off like bandits.)
The pastor — a real trooper with precocious kids of his own and a 17-year-old grandson as interested as Chandler was in seeing this stuff go off — was adventurous enough to invite us over to his place for a barbecue and fireworks show in his back yard, but when the first few rounds went off with loud reports and pieces of spent fireworks landing on his roof, I could tell we were not going to finish the show there. No sweat, I thought, we’ll just drive way out of town and find a place far away from any houses or civilization.
Wishful thinking. We never could get out of “town.” We found a couple places where we shot off a couple, and then fled — the equivalent of drive by fireworks. Finally I thought of railroad tracks which I figured were secluded by trees and far enough away from houses that we could get away with it. This worked for a while until we got to the really big stuff that went about 50 feet up with ariel display and three very big booms and we were out of there. The bummer was that all this running and hiding took all the fun out of it, at least for me.
Contrast this with New Hampshire. On our way out of the state, we had stopped at a roadside farmer’s market that served special sandwiches and ice cream. It had a large grassy area and we had asked if we could shoot some of our fireworks off. The owner came running out, his eyes wide like a child’s on Christmas. “Fireworks? You’ve got fireworks? Sure you can shoot them off as long as I can play, too!” He immediately challenged Chandler to a Roman candle war. Along with us, the whole thing was a real treat to a van full of six handicapped people who were just finishing up with their dinner. Not only are we free to have a good time, we are doing a good on top of that!
What’s that New Hampshire motto: “Live free or die”? Nice to see they’re still living up to it.
Now how do I end this Catch? What conclusions do I come to? It’s obviously an issue of law and grace in some form.
You know, this one’s too sticky for me. I know I’m already going to catch flack from some of you for being a bad example to Chandler. I’m going to leave this ending up to you. Comment on the blog or send me an email. You end it. Let’s see where we go with this!
1. Comment about the law over freedom?
2. “You see Chandler, when we have one foot in one state and the other in another, we have choices. If you want to shoot fireworks, put both feet in that forgiving state. When in that state, you become guilt free and have an automatic pass to have fun. If you put both feet in the other state, you must be guilt filled because you really want to have fun but can’t.”
3. “You see Chandler, because we are from the land of fruits and nuts, us Californians are too irresponsible and make stupid decisions that can harm others where if you lived in New Hampshire, you would be born smart, responsible, and safe.”
4. “No, you cannot call your mother and ask if she would have one of her friends in New Hampshire pack the remaining fireworks up and ship them to you at home because that’s illegal too even though your mother would love to watch them go boom!”
Neal’s solution to my fireworks dilemma, “How about planning a trip without a date and mail the bombs to New Hampshire ahead of the trip? It could be years ahead, fireworks are age-free. All the fun, none of the guilt, packed with great anticipation!”
John Fischer The Catch 