Roman candle dreams

Roman candles -- those July cardboard tubes spitting forth glittering fireballs of flare and light. The jettison alone is enough to wow audiences and satisfy the pyromaniac in all of us.\nIt's no stumper. This fourth of July will solemnize a new shade of freedom and the Executive Patriots will mop up profits on every false idol a dolt could ever want. Commemorative plates with air-brushed eagles. Phony lapel pins popularized by Bill O'Reilly's drooling flock. American flags flapping on every SUV driver's side window from Deerfield to Carmel. \nThese products are hotter than cell phone holsters. They are snatched immediately by uncalloused hands the moment they flood the market. Via touch-tone convenience, nothing is more emblematic of freedom than to-your-door delivery with a wink and smile. A parcel containing cheap gimmicks that were likely made by Mexican children with bleeding hands. Hey, the cost of production is cheaper -- right, Kelley students?\nAs if with holding a livable wage and exploiting eight-year-olds isn't enough of a rotten crime, I have reason to believe that fireworks manufacturers are stooping to new lows in the bottom feeding techniques that produced such post Sept. 11 gems as racial profiling and the Oak Ridge Boys' wartime rendition of "Elvira." Ingredients are being left out in those explosive concoctions. Beware of cheap imitations and false advertising -- except in Tennessee. \nThere is a logical explanation why all-night fireworks warehouses exist in Tennessee, and there are reasons why these pyrotechnic playgrounds have neon billboards the size of football fields. For the Volunteers, anything less than grand finale sparks is not tolerated, let alone bought. If only Indiana took as much pride in its fireworks.\nToday, I got a thirst for Roman candles. Much like one craves the zang of Vitamin C, it was a thirst that, if unquenched, evaporates the quip of life. I was hoping those roadside fireworks lairs would be open catering to those individuals whose Independence Day isn't hand-cuffed to the 4th of July -- those hoping to ring a little extra out of your average Monday night. I set out scouting these ramshackle stands in search of the elusive pre-July Roman candle. One would think these fireworks buffets would grace every gas station and liquor store from Suburban Lanes to the Bread Thrift Store. But no, it must be too early in Indiana. My Roman candle dreams were nothing but mirages. I should have driven to Chattanooga. \nSince these "California Rocket Fountains" were equipped with a missile-like physique, I figured I was in for the real "oohs" and "ahhs." But when the fuse was lit, there was no sky-rocket launch. No moon-shot whistling into the night. I felt used. My expectations were cruelly stomped on by these counterfeit rockets.\nI had to vindicate my $5, so I decided to improvise. Though they lacked air stunts, I found if you disobey the warning label "Do not hold in hand" and wave the "rocket" around like a diabolical wand, user satisfaction is guaranteed! They may sell me cheap products, but I'll never let them cheapen my awe. Ignore all warnings to "light fuse and get away." \nInstead, light the fuse a get a grip.