7/5/00 Blaze-o-Glory.

I fixed my car, did some yard work and turned into a curmudgeon.

I am really beginning to hate all holidays, especially the ones that remind me that I am surrounded by idiots. Following the near disastrous Independence Day '99, the folks in our neighborhood decided not to invite any out of town guests that had access to illegal fireworks, and alcohol was absent from the celebration. Unfortunately we forgot to ban stupidity.

The primary idiot was David, Cameron and Shelby's father. 
For those of you who need the nut-shell version of the story...here we go... David is married to my wife's sister Holly... David left his wife and kids to pursue a homosexual lifestyle... Holly then got hooked up with an abusive boyfriend, addicted to drugs and abandoned her kids on us. Holly has been gone for nearly 9-months (not even a phone call) and David offers us no money for caring for his kids, but does occasionally lavish the kids expensive gifts so they think he's a great father. 

David considers the Fourth of July, to be another chance to win his children's respect by purchasing $200 worth of fireworks, and arming his children with cigarette lighters... every child's dream come true. They start with the "safe and sane" method of firework ignition (namely: light fuse and get away), but soon they are graduating to tossing ground flowers into plastic gatorade bottles and sealing them to watch them explode and taping various rockets together, and onto toy vehicles.

The annual event that really burns my butt is when David tells the kids to go get some of their toys to experiment with. Cameron brings out a model car to strap roman candles and piccolo petes onto the result is predictable: a puddle of molten plastic on the sidewalk, and a gaggle of kids chanting "Burn Baby Burn". 

Things went from childish to macabre, when David instructed Shelby to go get her Barbies. I know - you could write a dissertation on the misogynistic symbolism of David being gay, and torching Barbies, but I wont go there. David also led the kids in a game of "What would Barbie be saying now....."

He is Cameron and Shelby's father, and I certainly can't force him to have good taste, all I could do is keep my kids away from the ritual, and insist that no more $12 Barbies be sacrificed like 
Joan of Arc. The neighborhood kids think I am a prude, my kids think I spoil all the fun, and a few of the adults looked at me like I was somehow un-patriotic.

"Emits shower of Sparks."