Whoosh! Ooh! Aaah!
I'm not one for history or tradition. For example, I celebrate Christmas but not because of any religious beliefs and the reasons for most other high days and hoidays are either lost on or of no interest to me.
Thus Guy Fawkes Night is really Fireworks Night to me, and I have little interest in the possible injustice heaped upon someone hundreds of years ago. Let's face it, even if he hadn't been caught, he'd still be dead by now.
Like most big kids I like fireworks, but have always enjoyed them from a safe distance at large, organised events. Over the years my objection to shop bought fireworks has been reasonably vocal - I failed to see why anyone would spend £20 on a few rockets that barely make any noise and give off a few sparks when the big displays are so much more spectacular.
But, like an ex-smoker, I may have been converted. I've discovered that home fireworks don't only come in naff £20 boxes from your local newsagent. It's now possible for anyone over 18 (and presumably that looks vaguely "responsible") to buy fireworks which try damn hard to imitate the professional displays.
Sure, you have to spend a bit more than twenty quid, but if a few of you get together for about £100 you can get a serious display together.
In all my 40 years I've never once lit a firework, save for some sparklers and I don't think they really count. And, to be honest, I was quite happy for it to stay that way, quite content to let others do the lighting while I stood back and watched. But I had my arm twisted...
Naturally, by sheer bad luck, my first was a duffer. Having been correctly inserted into its tube, the rocket - which ought to have soared to 100 feet or more - managed a meagre 10 feet before falling to the ground and blasting a colourful pink and purple hole in the lawn. Of course, being responsible adults we'd angled the rocket away from everyone so no harm was done (but it nicely illustrated why you should take these sorts of precautions).
But while we had a fantastic assortment of rockets, the real surprise was the multi-shot cakes. These things, holding anything from 10 separate fireworks up to 90 (in our case, you can get more) were a revelation and took the humble home diplay into a new league. Huge crashes, bangs and whistles accompanied by dramatic light shows in a riot of colour.
OK, to be honest, it wasn't really like a professional display; we couldn't co-ordinate setting them off in the same way (though it is possible to buy the remote firers) but that was all part of the fun.
The kids enjoyed it; the big kids (i.e. us adults who were lighting them) enjoyed it; and even the real adults enjoyed it. If you were anywhere near my house between about 7pm and 8pm on Saturday night, I hope you enjoyed it too.
Next year is going to be even bigger and better...
Thus Guy Fawkes Night is really Fireworks Night to me, and I have little interest in the possible injustice heaped upon someone hundreds of years ago. Let's face it, even if he hadn't been caught, he'd still be dead by now.
Like most big kids I like fireworks, but have always enjoyed them from a safe distance at large, organised events. Over the years my objection to shop bought fireworks has been reasonably vocal - I failed to see why anyone would spend £20 on a few rockets that barely make any noise and give off a few sparks when the big displays are so much more spectacular.
But, like an ex-smoker, I may have been converted. I've discovered that home fireworks don't only come in naff £20 boxes from your local newsagent. It's now possible for anyone over 18 (and presumably that looks vaguely "responsible") to buy fireworks which try damn hard to imitate the professional displays.
Sure, you have to spend a bit more than twenty quid, but if a few of you get together for about £100 you can get a serious display together.
In all my 40 years I've never once lit a firework, save for some sparklers and I don't think they really count. And, to be honest, I was quite happy for it to stay that way, quite content to let others do the lighting while I stood back and watched. But I had my arm twisted...
Naturally, by sheer bad luck, my first was a duffer. Having been correctly inserted into its tube, the rocket - which ought to have soared to 100 feet or more - managed a meagre 10 feet before falling to the ground and blasting a colourful pink and purple hole in the lawn. Of course, being responsible adults we'd angled the rocket away from everyone so no harm was done (but it nicely illustrated why you should take these sorts of precautions).
But while we had a fantastic assortment of rockets, the real surprise was the multi-shot cakes. These things, holding anything from 10 separate fireworks up to 90 (in our case, you can get more) were a revelation and took the humble home diplay into a new league. Huge crashes, bangs and whistles accompanied by dramatic light shows in a riot of colour.
OK, to be honest, it wasn't really like a professional display; we couldn't co-ordinate setting them off in the same way (though it is possible to buy the remote firers) but that was all part of the fun.
The kids enjoyed it; the big kids (i.e. us adults who were lighting them) enjoyed it; and even the real adults enjoyed it. If you were anywhere near my house between about 7pm and 8pm on Saturday night, I hope you enjoyed it too.
Next year is going to be even bigger and better...
posted by Phil at 2:11 AM
1 Comments:
Don't talk to me about Fireworks. See DailyMeander...
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