I dreamed of Genies

/ July 3, 2014
Drive to Pennsylvania? (From Getty Images)

Drive to Pennsylvania? (From Getty Images)

I see the signs and the stores when my dear wife Karen and I drive through our state of New York into Pennsylvania.

Fireworks for sale.

I have regularly looked over to one particular emporium of boom from our usual McDonald’s and wondered what was in the aisles, I must admit.

Then one time, on a return from a three-day golf outing, my good friend KP requested a stop. He bought a bag of celebration for he, his wife and the kids. My eyes were too confused by the cats and dogs and pigs and cows and all the other animals that appeared on the wrappers. And that was just the firecracker rows. There were rockets that you could stick in bottles, like the old days, and rockets I thought I could ride to the moon.

I am not what you’d call a crack firecracker guy.

What we kids hoped to see. (From Getty Images)

What we kids hoped to see. (From Getty Images)

On this eve of the Fourth, I recall my first brush with the little sticks that brought kids everywhere so much pleasure and made parents everywhere tell stories of nine-finger Joe and deaf-eared Janice. Let’s call it cautionary tale for a Throwback Thursday.

I was oh, 8 or 9.

We were visiting my Aunt Marion and Uncle Chet, the day before the Fourth, I’m pretty sure, just like today. I’m with the kids up the street, my age. We’ve somehow scrounged up a string of firecrackers, and we’ve made our way across the main road to behind the elementary school.

We decided that we’d unwind the firecrackers, pile up the gray gunpowder inside — yes, we all called it gunpowder — and make what everybody those days reverentially called “a genie.”

It was a simple recipe to cook up a big flash of success.

You put all the powder in a lump. You lined up the fuses end to end. You lit the end fuse with a match, which was as illegal to us as those unwound firecrackers.

When the fuses burned to the powder, a big cloud of smoke erupted.

I dream of genie indeed.

Our heads were aligned in a circle, three of us, when the adult voice interrupted the busy bees.

It was a cop! In a uniform! Busted at age 8 or 9!

Genie remained in her bottle.

We got a ride back across the street, delivered to unamused parents.

I felt like a fugitive that Fourth.

I have never bought a firecracker since, not even at a legal store in Pennsylvania.

My sister Dory, though, can tell you a story about how my cousin Stanley brought a bag of firecrackers out from Brooklyn to our house in Stony Brook some years later, and how he (OK, I may have aided and abetted) managed to blow a hole in her beloved rubber rocking horse in the backyard as the adults ate and drank on the patio.

What’s your best recollection about firecrackers growing up? About firecrackers as an adult? Do you stop at legal fireworks stores, and what’s your favorite yard display now?

Here’s the source for the firecrackers photo.

Here’s the source for the cloud of smoke photo.

Related posts

63 thoughts on “I dreamed of Genies”

  1. I had a near miss with firecrackers myself. We were throwing them off the stoop of my neighbor’s house and I threw one and it blew up on Pete’s eye. He covered his eye with his hand and wouldn’t let anyone look at it. I of course was scared and promised to pay his hospital bill at 12 years old. After while Pete move his had and exposed his eyelid turned up and was laughing. It was enough to scare me from touching firecrackers. My ex would shoot them off for my kids I just watched.

    Like

    Reply

  2. I’m glad the genie remained in the bottle, Mark. No telling what might have happened if your friends’ schemes had succeeded.

    The closest I got to fireworks as a child were the sparklers. If you weren’t careful, you could burn yourself if you touched them when they were still hot. Otherwise, fairly safe. But, when our girls were growing up, a neighbor set off some fireworks down by the school in Liverpool. My ex- lit a bottle rocket that landed in the neighbor’s yard in back of us. Thank goodness no one was hurt. 😉

    Like

    Reply

  3. My best 4th of July firecracker memories go way back to when I was 7, 8 and 9 years old. My dad and my uncle were in charge of the fireworks once the inky darkness of early evening fell. If I try hard, I can hear the crickets, feel the heat and humidity of a hot Baltimore summer evening, and experience – one again – that sense of anticipation that my cousins and I felt as we waited for the ‘dads’ to ignite railroad flares, small cherry bombs (I guess that is what they were called) and other such delights. I think the ‘dads’ got as much of a kick out of it as we kids did. Our ‘moms’ were not as amused, and sat on the back porch, drinking coffee and recounting neighborhood gossip. Best of all was when my dad would hand me a lighted ‘sparkler’ and I would twirl it around in the darkness. feeling like a princess with a magical wand. Good times and good memories. 🙂

    Like

    Reply

    • Yes, sparklers were king of magical, keys to the kingdom. Write your name. Let’s Go Mets in our neighborhood. The smell of sparklers was unmistakeable, too.

      Did your families live in true Baltimore row houses?

      Like

      Reply

      • I did indeed grow up in a brick row house in Baltimore. BUT my husband grew up in the ones that I am sure you’re thinking of. When he was a boy, his family lived with his grandmother near Patterson Park (remember that?), and they had the old time marble steps that the older ladies would get out and scrub until they shined.

        Like

      • I do remember passing such scenes. One of my best friends was from Dundalk, and he would take me on Baltimore tours of that and other neighborhoods. And, of course, we’d go past the Baltimore Sun and the famous protestor out front, with his two signs: Sun Lies and More Lies. My friend knew THE Wild Bill Hagey from Dundalk. Hagey, besides the O-R-I-O-L-E-S fame, was a cab driver.

        Like

      • Hope you drank a nice cold Natty Boh and ate some steamed crabs seasoned with Old Bay! Now THAT is Baltimore. 😀

        Like

      • Check on the beer. I mean, at 20, we’d even hit the bar every now and again at the Balto bars at 8 a.m. to drink with the end-of-shift guys. But I passed on the crabs with Old Bay. Drastic fail on local taste on my part on the latter, Kate. Sorry. Ick. Stomach couldn’t take it. ;-(

        Like

      • LOL! Ah, Keith, I’ll forgive you for lack of appreciation for Baltimore cuisine. It is, perhaps, an acquired taste! (huge grin) By the way, my boys in orange had some game against the Nationals last night. Scored six runs in the last inning of an extra innings game; I am still hoarse from screaming. 🙂

        Like

  4. Where I live, no two things are more loved than college basketball and fireworks. You can buy an obscene amount of fireworks and people leave with a pickup bed full. They have been shooting them off for a week, at least. And there are almost too many liquor stores for this small town, so 911 will be quite busy this weekend. Some drunk almost always has too many and the fireworks go off on a part of the body they shouldn’t be pointed at.

    Like

    Reply

  5. Oh crap! It was like I was oh 8 or 9 again and my heart nearly stopped when you said it was a cop! Damn. HOWEVER, I highly suspect he stopped you from heading down a path of crime and gunpowder infused incidents. He saved you for us. 🙂

    Like

    Reply

  6. Here in Ontario they are sold just before holidays and can be used only on certain stat holidays (seven of them ,i think). When I was married, the kids wanted fireworks one year and I was a bit iffy about it so I called the local constabulary to find out the rules. It had been my intention to walk down to the big river behind our house and set them off over the water. The cop I spoke with nixed that idea and said that the fireworks could only be set off over private property. I explained that both neighbors’ trees hung over our yard and we had some trees of our own. I was concerned about setting them on fire. The cop asked if the neighbor had a hose. Ha! Funny man. 😎 We eventually teamed up with a hockey family we knew who lived in the country and contributed to a much larger display for all our kids. It worked well.

    Like

    Reply

    • I like the idea of shooting them off over a hockey rink, Paul. That sounds safe to me! I’m glad you had the families enjoy a bigger display. Your constable was a wise guy, I agree.

      Like

      Reply

  7. You hoodlem! I knew deep down you were a bad boy. 😉 (Of course I’m kidding.) That sounds like a fun fourth as a kid (except the getting busted part). But just assembling the genie was a fun part of the adventure. Of course, as a mom, I am just shaking my head. Matches indeed!

    I was a convenience store manager once and met a customer the week after the 4th. He had burns all over his face where his fireworks exploded too soon. It was awful! Ever since then, fireworks scare the bejeebers out of me. 🙂 Happy 4th!

    Like

    Reply

  8. we always have gone to see fireworks since we were little and my middle sister and i would burst out crying from the booms, ever year, for many years. my poor, patient dad would shlep us home again and we’d try again the next year. i like to watch them still, without tears now, but i always feel for the babies and the animals. as for yard crackers,i more prefer the roman candle type of thing )

    Like

    Reply

    • Your dad was great! It must have gotten a little tiring for him once you and your sister reached your mid-teens, Beth. 🙂 You’re right, some animals hate the firework booms. Poor things. Babies should not be brought, or need earplugs for sure. I’m even a little shy around backyard Roman candles nowadays!

      Like

      Reply

  9. You rebel, you! Busted at the age of 8. I have to say that I have never had a fascination with getting a hold of fireworks to set off. I have always been okay with letting the experts take care of that and producing the great show. Ours were postponed until Saturday which should be a nicer day. 🙂

    Like

    Reply

  10. Sit down Mark, let me tell you a story. I was maybe 7 or 8 years old the year that my brother decided it was a good idea to mail order firecrackers from Mexico. The kind you can’t find here for a reason. Think, weapons of mass destruction variety pack. As you can imagine it did not end well. The field behind our house was filled with brown dry brush that lit up like you wouldn’t believe in what felt like a split second. I remember grabbing a sand bucket toy and filling it with water from our pool as if that was going to solve the problem. Not the grand finale the neighbors were hoping for. Luckily no one was hurt and property remained in tact. My brother was unable to sit down for a long time though. It baffles me that fireworks are still sold on every corner. I was trying to explain this holiday to Oliva. “The adults get drunk while kids play with matches. It’s patriotic.” were the only words that kept coming to mind.

    Like

    Reply

    • Holy criminy, Sandra, my bro could have set an awful scene in motion, one I’ve seen on the news from my west coast Bialdez family’s part of the world. My fanny hurts thinking of it in loyalty to my bro. I love your running to the pool with your sand bucket in gut reaction to help. That throwback photo you posted today with you and older bro today, showing how Oliva looks like you? I thought that I am glad to see my fifth sibling. No more fireworks in hand for all of us, right, sis?

      Like

      Reply

      • Not even those sparklers! What a strange tradition? Take good care hermano! Stick to the cervezas today and stay away from those weapons grade combustibles! I don’t have my sand bucket on me. 😉

        Like

  12. You rebel, you. We kids had the occasional bottle rocket pack that we’ve dabbled with. This usually involved letting the things take off from our hands, or we would throw them in the air to see how high they would actually go.

    Yeah, we could have done some damage. Luckily we didn’t learn the hard way.

    Like

    Reply

    • I am too timid and scared now. That cop think was like being scared straight, pretty much, Mer. Except the one teen incident blowing up a rubber hobby horse with my cousin, that is.

      Like

      Reply

  14. I’m with you, Mark. I admire them from afar. IMO, that is the way it should be. TOO many accidents happen when folk play around with something they really don’t know too much about. Great piece again!! Thank you. Love, Amy

    Like

    Reply

  15. I love “nine-finger Joe” and “deaf-eared Janice”–captures the parenting of that era perfectly! No memories other than sparklers in the back yard and watching fireworks from a grassy knoll, probably Onondaga Lake. Here in Baldwinsville, the town is fireworks-crazy! There are fireworks displays all through the summer. Nice post, Mark, and Happy Fourth to all! 🙂

    Like

    Reply

  16. A great walk into the 4th of July, Chum. Hope you have a great weekend.

    I remember laying those blackjacks on a ledge and lighting them instead of throwing them after having lit them, as they always scared me. It hurts when they blow up in your hand. Fireworks while holding an awestruck child is a wonderful memory.

    Like

    Reply

  17. Oh oh! A criminal record and disappointing experience while young! Did you like some of the Summer Laughs in your name sake on my Wednesday post, Mark? Smiles, Robin (Oh, sorry about missing a finger joke from Maxine! I did not know how close that may have been to coming true!) Happy 4th and Always! Robin

    Like

    Reply

  18. I remember me and my brother buying firecrackers at the corner store and lighting them up on the street in front of our house with our parent’s permission! We also built small fires with dried grass and twigs using a magnifying glass!

    My brother and his friend Bruce, who lived right across the street, did gross things with rinsed out soup cans, firecrackers and grasshoppers. They also dissected caterpillars and looked at their blood under Bruce’s fancy smancy microscope. I don’t want to go into details about that!

    Diana xo

    Like

    Reply

  19. Fireworks shows and amateur pyrotechnics were all over my childhood, but I got old in a hurry, and now I hate this time of the year simply because of all the fireworks. I was nearly hit by a bottle rocket some kids set off in the alley while I was cutting the grass about 20 years ago. Now that I work nights and sleep days, the constant warzone sounds in the days around the Fourth does not amuse me at all….

    Like

    Reply

  20. My memories as a kid isn’t so good Mark. I was around 8-10 years old and for first time I was allowed to stay ourside even it was not dark yet, only beginning darkness. Some boys came to our area and wanted to show what they brought of firecrash. They were maybe 1-2 years older. One of the Young boys turned on a very small one, as was supposed to stay in a bottle and then go straight up and show us some nice patterns in many colors. But no, it went directly from the bottle and up to his eye and through it, uhhhh not a nice experience and poor boy, he was so very hurt.
    After this I got very much respect, not scared but respectful today.

    Like

    Reply

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.