The Adventures Of Stumpy The G.I. Joe...

July 4th is here. It is the birthday of our great country. A time to celebrate with family and friends as we barbecue, drink festively, and blow things up!

What would Independence Day be without fireworks? Probably not as loud, and everyone maintains their fingers. But still...it wouldn't have the same pizazz that it should. I remember about fifteen years or so ago, we were in the middle of a burn ban, and fireworks were outlawed that year for the 4th of July in Shreveport/Bossier.

Oh, horrible day. What do you mean we have to celebrate America AND keep both eyes? Where is the justice?!?

The thing about fireworks, is that they remain virtually identical to the fireworks of yesterday, albeit perhaps a little less powerful (No more cherry bombs or M-90's...which is pretty much dynamite). As technology races forward, fireworks remain steady. A gunpowder beacon in an otherwise LED world. And we like them that way.

When I was a kid, I had my favorite firecrackers, smoke bombs, roman candles, and any other incendiary devices you could buy-one-get-two-free of at the plywood marketplace at the side of road. What else can you buy reputably from what is essentially a tree house on the ground? Tomatoes and fireworks...that's about it.

And my mom didn't think twice about leaving me unsupervised outside in Caddo Heights with a lighter and a paper bag filled with cheap Chinese explosives. That way of thinking was just fine for me...but very unfortunate to my G.I. Joes.

You see, every year, my parents knew that July 4th was a sad anniversary for the G.I. Joe gang at my house. It meant they were going to die, and I would need to start saving money to replenish the battalion before the next Independence Day. And die they did, like heroes.

I would plan strategies of attack, build fortified structures, and conduct full on military sieges, all while pummeling The Joes with more Black Cats than I'd like to admit. But the coups de gras is when a Joe would go head to head with a firecracker. A well placed piece of tape...two firecrackers twisted together...if you pull the top part of the action figure, there is a rubber band keeping the bottom part on...not for long...BANG!

I can still hear "Taps" playing in the background.

And as fun as I can remember it being...I can only think that if my children knew how many collectible G.I. Joes, Star Wars action figures, He-Man, and whatever else toys I blew up/melted with sparkles/burned to a crisp in my backyard, they wouldn't ask about how I was going to pay for their college. They would know that those dreams went up in smoke many years ago.

But hey...if they ever want a job in model demolition, I know a guy that can teach them how.