Working around the Fireworks Ban

The recent ban against fireworks statewide in Utah might be putting a little crimp in your patriotic celebrations of America’s 250th Anniversary. I don’t mean to point fingers, but if the Founding Fathers had just had a bit of foresight (beyond the whole three branches of government/checks and balances thing), then they would have decided to hold off on the Declaration of Independence until the winter. That way any and all future firework demonstrations would not be a coin toss about whether it’s an honoring of our country or burning it to the ground.

At this point, however, we are a bit late for Monday morning quarterbacking the Revolutionary War (though I gotta say that they definitely should’ve checked the jersey that Benedict Arnold had underneath the American one). So instead of saying that we can’t celebrate Independence Day in the winter all because of a simple date, we just need to look outside the box, or hemisphere, as it were. Why not go south of the equator to celebrate the 4th? If you’re far enough south, it will be winter there and the likelihood that you’ll bring an apocalyptic firescape to the country is super low … also, even if you did burn it down, it wouldn’t even be our country.

Some might see the celebration of the 4th of July in another country as a tacky at best and traitorous at worst, so perhaps I can offer some other alternatives for how you can capture the spirit of Independence Day without actually celebrating with fireworks:

1. Take two things that are 4th of July staples and mix them together: fireworks and watermelons. We can’t light fireworks, but with a large enough watermelon and a big enough sledge hammer, we can definitely create an explosion that will create some “ooohs” and “ahhhs” … and then even some “yummms!” (Pro-tip, use seed watermelons for the finale.)

2. Sign your own Declarations of Independence. While not as “flashy” per se, as multicolored explosions in the sky, I think that we might feel a unique connection with our founding parents. That way when I declare independence from having to pay my library fines I am basically another Patrick Henry: “Give me liberty from due dates or give me yet another eye-rolling memoir!”

3. As a patriotic callback to the Boston Tea Party, throw your favorite drink into a large body of water. The Chicago River might be known for turning green on St. Patrick’s Day, but on the 4th of July the Great Salt Lake would turn brown—I mean, that is a lot of Diet Coke, after all.

4. We can petition Zeus for an “organic” fireworks display in the form of a massive thunderstorm. If he is reluctant, then we can tell him that Thor said he would do it for us if Zeus was too much of a “pansy.” If we’re really lucky, we will have set off an inter-gods-war that will really light up the sky.

5. If all fireworks are for you is something that blinds you with bursts of light while your eardrums are pierced with relentless booms of sound, then you could just chaperone a high school dance that we could schedule on 4th of July. Having chaperoned my fair share, I’m guessing that within a few minutes, you will have had your share of patriotic sensory overload.

6. Finally, you could do what we’re all just wanting to do: pull out your phone, tape some patriotic bunting on the back, and get together with a group where no one looks at each other and we all just scroll for a few hours before calling it a night and going to bed depressed by our place in the world but satisfied that we had a moment of patriotic pride.

Happy 4th everyone. Or, if you are like me celebrating in the brisk Argentine winter: ¡Feliz Cuatro!

Marty Reeder is a young adult author and high school English teacher. For questions, concerns, or other suggested methods of overzealous patriotism, please email writingreeder@gmail.com.