Illicit Firecrackers & the Burning Bush

A few years ago... no wait... a very long time ago, I happened across some fireworks right around the time of Independence Day.  Now these weren't your ordinary, garden variety of  fireworks that can be purchased legally in the state of Oregon.  These were some certified, you-can't-buy-these-in-Oregon-cuz-they-fly-in-th-air fireworks.  It was jubilation in a little winged aircraft. 

The only thing about these were they didn't stand alone on the ground very well.  They were kind of rounded, so one would need to place it in a cup or some such thing so they would fly up in the air.  In my brilliant adolecent mind, the best possible place to keep these fireworks was in my trunk, so they could be used at any time during the independence festivities. 

The opportunitiy presented itself in the parking lot of Washington Square Mall.  I just got off the bus from downtown Portland, where I had watched the waterfront fireworks display.  It seemed like as good a time as any, because there was nobody in the parking lot, and no cars parked there, either.  What I did find was a McDonald's cup that was the perfect size for launching my illicit showers of sparks.  I could light those suckers, set it in the Mickey D's cup, and watch the showers of sparks as they few about the sky above the parking lot. 

There are a couple of things I didn't consider.  Call it youth, call it overall stupidity, but it never really occured to me that the mall might have security.  Second, it hadn't rained in about a month, which is rare in Oregon.  What that means in practical terms, is that all the vegitation turns brown and flakey.  Both of these conditions seem perfectly obvious now, but I'm 10-15 years wiser and more mature these days, and in those days the very idea of burning, lighting, and exploding things was enough to get me out of bed early, scrape and save cash, and make poor decisions in general.  When I blew things up I felt alive!

I set the newfound cup up just so, and began setting off these little beauties.  They took off straight into the air, emitting showers of sparks, and giving a satisfactory pop at the end, before the casing cascaded to the ground.  It was both exhilarating and awe-inspiring.  As I was getting toward the end of my batch, I lit one, set it in the cup, and walked backwards.  To my horror, the cup fell over, and wouldn't you know that little firework went straight to the nearest bush, which was quite dead due to the weather conditions that year.  All off a sudden, the bush is on fire and I swear I can hear it calling me Moses and telling me to take off my shoes.

I did not, at this time, take my shoes off.  I ran over and stamped the flames out, raced back to my car, and sped away through the night.  They say all's well that end's well, and I suppose they're right.  I can tell you what I learned that night; McDonald's cups not only burn you with scalding hot coffee, they sometimes throw burning objects into flammable situations, and are not to be trusted!