Bang!

In my lifetime, the sale of fireworks has always been banned in New York, and I remember when I was growing up in Queens, people would drive long distances to acquire incendiary devices that the Chinese had created during the Cold War so that Americans could blow themselves up.

I’m pretty sure you couldn’t buy fireworks in Connecticut back then, because that would have been a shorter drive. But they’re legal here now, apparently, unless the Connecticut idea of "Black Market" is posting a 30-foot long "FIREWORKS!" banner off the Long Ridge Road exit of the Merritt Parkway the week before July 4th.

Little did I know when we moved here that I’d only have to drive a mere 10 minutes to purchase products with colorful names like "Aerial Avalanche," "Brew-Ha-Ha Fountain," "Komodo 3000," "Thunder Mountain," and "Finger Eater." (Okay, I made the last one up.)

This temporary fireworks emporium was operated out of a tent in the parking lot of the local Bank of America branch, so close to the actual building, in fact, that all one would have had to do to break into the bank was toss a lit match into the tent. That wasn’t really an issue, however, since it’s a closed Bank of America branch. I don’t know how long it’s been closed for, possibly since an unusual explosion in late June of last year.

Okay, I don’t know if that actually happened, or even if the fireworks tent was there last year. But I do know that the ATM in this particular closed B of A branch is still operational, so if you didn’t have enough cash with you to buy the "Lock and Load" fireworks kit for $199.99, you could get more money right there.

Unfortunately, though, this particular outlet of Explosives-R-Us was a bit inconvenient if you happened to be heading north, because Long Ridge can be a difficult road to cut across. That’s why it was a great retailing idea to open a second location, almost directly across the street, in a…wait for it…GAS STATION!

Fireworks in a gas station. That can’t be a good idea, can it?

After awhile, of course, I realized that Stamford was experiencing, um, an explosion of fireworks-purchasing opportunities. It seemed like anywhere there was an empty space in a parking lot, there was a swarthy-looking guy with a folding table and an assortment of pyrotechnic devices. I don’t know what the financial arrangement was between the firecracker-jack salesmen and the business that had given up the space for the enterprise. I don’t know if, say, that fruit stand realized extra income from the sale of cherry bombs. And I don’t know if Stamford received any tax revenue.

I just know that, for a week, my new hometown seemed dangerously flammable.

And, by the way, I did not go into the local fireworks tent. Frankly, I get nervous around sparklers and birthday cake candles. So all the fireworks names in this post are from the website of Phantom Fireworks, whose actual, trademarked slogan is "Lighting Up Backyards of America from Coast to Coast®."

Which I guess, given their product line, is better than "What’s in your wallet?"

For more on our adventures as first-time homeowners at age 57, and moving to Stamford, click here.