Marianne and I just got home from the Town of Fuquay Varina's Fourth
Of July Fireworks Show. On July 3rd. Before dark.
It was fun, but got me to thinkin' back to my first firecrackers.
It was July 1969, and my brother Terry had gotten married in
South Carolina. On the drive back to Virginia, my Dad decided that we'd
stop at that little ole tourist trap, South Of The Border.
Dad let me buy a string of 200 firecrackers.
They were meant to be lit and then explode all in
a row. I had other ideas.
I untangled them so that I'd have 200 separate explosives.
I would patiently build and paint a model of a tank, a plane
or ship.....and then blow it up.
Note: Every guy I grew up with did this.
I have no explanation for it. Just a "boy thing".
Guys like to blow stuff up. Guys like watching stuff get
blown up.
But I realized tonight while watching' the fireworks, that I'd
enjoy it just as much if I were blindfolded.
The ones I enjoy the most are the big, deep ones that I
feel in my chest. The vibration. The concussion of the
sound wave. They make me giddy.
Maybe it's a guy thing, I don't know.
But I do know...
You can't spell testosterone without using T-N-T...
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