"Once upon an unrecalled time on July 4th, 1776, in a land not unlike the United States, a people threw off the shackles of oppression and declared its freedom. And that country was called America."

—President George W. Bush, no doubt a few days from now

Ever since our forefathers founded this nation, we Americans have celebrated its birth the best way we know how—through the miracle of Chinese gunpowder. Alas, today our children are routinely discouraged from setting off fireworks on Independence Day, often by the same overly anxious parents who won’t permit their kids to go trick-or-treating on Halloween or tackle their own wild turkey for Thanksgiving. That’s why we at Drink at Work.com would like to reflect on our own childhoods and recall a simpler time when fireworks were well within the reach and rights of those who had yet to achieve full motor skills. From sparklers to M-80s, it’s our way of celebrating those halcyon days when every small boy or girl could let freedom ring with explosives that more often than not left them with a lifelong case of tinnitus.

Sparkler: Much like candy cigarettes were once an adorable towhead’s first awkward steps towards an adult lung biopsy, the equally harmless sparkler can easily start a child on the path to greater fireworks. Then to the Beth Israel Burn Ward. Then to having to remove their shoe whenever they wish to indicate they want "10" White Castle hamburgers. But while such "dangerous" explosives as firecrackers and M-80s at least provided solid entertainment value for the price of an opposable digit, sparklers were only amusing if you had ever wondered what a corn dog would be like if it were made of magnesium. In fact, the sparkler rarely lent itself to any variation of fun with the possible exceptions of 1) Pretending the sparkler was a light saber as you engaged in epic duels while imitating Darth Vader’s voice in a prepubescent voice so ludicrously high it made Neil Sedaka sound like Barry White; 2) Use said sparkler to quickly scrawl some incandescent doggerel in the air, such as "This sparkler sucks"; 3) Make believe it was Tinkerbell burning up upon reentry.

Firecracker: To a child, firecrackers were like manna from heaven—a sudden source of utter gratification. After all, when you’re a child nothing spells "fun" like "detonation." (Not literally, of course. Such "special" children should be dissuaded from handling class-B explosives). Throw in the added bonus of "deafening noise" and a firecracker seemed like Christmas and Armageddon rolled up into one. Sure, at times the appeal of the firecracker could appear limited at best. It didn’t scream across the sky. It wouldn’t burst into a shower of brilliant hues. It couldn’t be timed to blast perfectly to any piece of music that wasn’t "The 1812 Overture." But while it may have lacked the sheer artistry of professional firework displays or even roman candles, if placed carefully and in sufficient quantities, a firecracker could instantly revert your Tonka toy tuck back into its elemental properties. The same went for your G.I. Joe doll, your Lego buildings, your Aurora racetrack and your Big Wheel. The downside of such, alas, was that the firecracker could also rob you of all your earthly childhood possessions faster than a crystal meth addiction.

Bottle Rocket: Back in the 60’s and 70’s, children oft dreamt of hurtling into space—usually within the safe confines of a capsule or some sort of ship. While the very idea commercial space travel seemed like something that would only come to fruition in the distant future—say 1992 or so—bottle rockets provided the perfect simulation for anyone who was far too uncoordinated to build even the simplest model rocket. Of course, bottle rockets also had the rather nasty habit of arcing into a neighbor’s roof, setting fire to nearby brush or skidding down the street toward a wholly unsuspecting and soundly sleeping dog. But these were minor quibbles and acts of inadvertent arson compared to the pure elation of watching your rocket climb higher and higher into the stratosphere, slicing the air with its high-pitched whistle, only to abruptly and inexplicable turn and hurtle straight down into an idling car with a gas leak.

Roman Candle: Despite the presence of the word "roman" in its name, these fireball launchers were initially conceived as the ultimate weapon of mass destruction by a long-forgotten civilization so woefully inept at everything (including arming itself) that it died off due to accidental strangulation moments before it was conquered by some wayward sheep. The fact that such occurred in the mid-1930’s only makes this sad tale all the more pathetic. However, their horrifying yet admittedly humorous demise became every child’s gain. For what small tyke did not gaze wide-eyed in wonder at those airborne spheres of varicolored light—especially if they were headed right for your face thanks to some son-of-a-bitch cousin. Your best chance to emulate a professional fireworks display, the roman candle also brought a touch of class to a night that might have otherwise consisted solely of immovable "tank" firecrackers, aeronautically-deficient "whirlybirds" and firework "fountain" displays that showered only disappointment upon your family and friends—along with some sort of corrosive acid.

M-80: Providing a level of firepower not usually bequeathed to an eight-year-old outside of military service, the M-80 was many a child’s first proof that there indeed was a God. And that He was cool. And that He, too, understood that to create one must often destroy or at least dismantle well beyond easy repair. Whereas the bottle rocket was elegant—and the roman candle resplendent—the M-8- possessed its own simple beauty, not unlike a sunflower wielding a Baretta. It also gave a small child an enormous bargaining tool outside of the Fourth of July celebration—say, such as during discussions of a "new" bedtime with one’s parents or a talk about whether or not you would get to drive the car to Grandma’s house, literally through the woods. In short, to hold an M-80 was to have infinite possibility within your very grasp. That is, until you detonated it. Then all you had was a very large crater and a lot of explaining to do about what you just did to the living room.

So the next time you say to a child "Why use a sparkler when we have a perfectly good flashlight you can wave?" or "You know what’s really fun? Reading about fireworks!" think back to your own carefree free Independence Day celebrations. Then give your kid a crate of cherry bombs and a Zippo lighter and tell them, "Make me proud and blow up a portion of this great land of ours!"