A Halloween Family Classic

The stuff of family legend, a living, breathing epic tale of courage and bravery. Well maybe some other time. This is a story about a man and his family all gathered together to celebrate a holiday, Halloween to be exact.
 This would be the fall of 1999 or 2000.
 My lovely gal and her three daughters, plus my two kids and a couple of the neighborhood strays are excitedly waiting for the night's fireworks show. We have purchased several hundred dollars of the finest fireworks that Fong's Market had on the shelves. The cul de sac garden was chosen as the the launching area. It was central, afforded a great view, plus the ground was soft, so that the big firecrackers would stick in the ground easier.

 There may have been some alcohol flowing at the time to grease the wheels so to speak. I was prone to enjoying the occasional Stoli martini now and again in those days. Freezer chilled bottle, frosted glasses mmm happy juice. Anyways, the fireworks. It was easy to decide that I would be lighting off all the fireworks because after all, I was the proud owner of a blasting ticket. A bonafide explosives expert if you will. The doctor of dynamite.

 Lawn chairs were lined up in the driveway, blankets and comforters distributed. Snacks and refreshments for all. Safety precautions were all in place, extra long BBQ lighter, careful to aim the  bottle rockets away from the house, so as not catch it on fire. ( That's always an embarrassing event.)  Lastly of course, don't forget the professional ignition man. That'd be me.

 I start the show slowly, using the smallest fireworks and sparklers. I add a bit of razzle dazzle with multiple firings, the size of the tubes getting fatter and taller. The cul de sac is aglow under the  fireworks extravaganza. I'm on my game, timing, drama and tension it's all there. Finally, I get down to the bottom of the crate and there are six of the biggest fireworks tubes ever. They look like they came from the bomb-bay of a B-52 Stratofortess. I plant one firmly in the ground making sure that it won't fall over when it starts belching out volcanic hellfire. I light it and calmly step away and get clear. Huge fireballs explode into the air, the concussion pummeling your chest. The only thing lacking was "Ride of the Valkyries" cranked up on the stereo and some covering machine gun fire. Very impressive.

 This is totally worth the money, totally. I set up the next monster canister, this one's bigger, has more heft to it. Same deal, firmly planted, light it and walk away. I listen to the crackle of the fuse burning down. One more step and another.
Then nothing. It goes all quiet, and then a meek little
"Pffft".

"Pffft"??  
Whadda ya mean...... Pffft ?
It's a twenty five dollar firecracker for fuck sakes!
This is bullshit!
I do an about face and take two steps toward the garden.
" It's a dud", I declare.
......and in mid stride, in mid curse
Ka Fucking Blooey ....
bright white light.
The court-yard disappears.
Two sledge hammers hit me on either side of the head.
I'm blinded by the white light, it's everywhere I turn.
There's a roaring in my ears that won't quit.
I stagger back. looking for an exit.
There isn't one.
Through the roar in my ears, I hear angels singing to me, high and sweet.
Shit, that can't be a good sign.
No, not singing,
Laughing.
The angels are laughing at me.

Wait, I know those voices.
I know.
The spectators,
My family,
Convulsing with laughter as I stagger out of the carnage and drifting smoke.
I can only see shadows
Faces contorted with hysterics
I can't hear the words they are mouthing
I kept repeating "What'd you say?" "What, I can't hear you.
My lovely family looked like they had come down with seizures and food poisoning all at once.
Tears running down their faces
Rolling on the ground and holding their bellies.
Not one of them  went to get a fire extinguisher.




When the peanut gallery all regained enough control over the spasms, they took turns recalling the event. It was stop motion story telling, every move broken down for maximum effect . I could hear bits of what they were saying if they yelled at me. The most enduring image, was that of a scarecrow, arms outstretched, silhouetted against the backdrop of a thermonuclear blast.

To this day, we all take turns sending a simple message by text or email to each other. Three words that brings laughter and smiles. We'll likely do this to the last person standing.
"It's a dud!"