Ol’ Robbo was thinking about picking up some fireworks in order to celebrate the 4th of July this year.  Indeed, with a Phantom Fireworks outlet on I-70 in southern Pennsylvania right on the way to and from their camp, he got thinking about just how popular he would be with the gels if we pulled in on the way home this coming Friday and got some.

But you know, perusing the various state fireworks prohibitions in effect up and down the East Coast, I am thoroughly dismayed at the paucity of options available.  When I say “fireworks,” what I mean is the lady-fingers, bottle-rockets and Roman candles of my own yoot.  What’s allowed in Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania? Sparklers.  Yes, that’s pretty much it.  Sparklers.

Big. Freakin’. Whoop.  Dee.  Do.

Now as far as setting them off, I’m enough of a libertarian not to give a damn what the laws are.  (Fortunately, I happen to live in a neighborhood where nobody else much cares either.)  But it’s the getting of them that may prove tricky:  I imagine that if bottle-rockets are prohibited for use in Pennsylvania, then nobody’s going to be selling them there, either.

And so the dilemna: If I don’t stop, I’ll never know.  If I do stop, I’ll most likely be outrageously disappointed.

What I really need, of course, is a boot-legger.  My brother in North Carolina picks up the good stuff somewhere down South.  Perhaps I should ask him to grab some for me next time he’s at it.  In the meantime, if anyone has any practical advice, I’d appreciate hearing about it.