My local observations on the Fourth of July

Another year has passed, and once again we have an opportunity to celebrate a piece of paper; a document. It seems ironic that we hold a list of complaints in such high reverence, but woven into our rant against our King were thoughts that just happened to signal a turning point in the history of mankind. It was a statement made, not only to our oppressive European cousins but to the world as a whole, that there was a better way of doing things. We told the world that it was “self-evident” that humanity should not exist to serve governments, but that governments should exist to serve us.

I often wonder if our citizens appreciate the magnitude of the statement that was made in that document. Until then, we had been too busy fighting wars for greedy Kings and desperately struggling to feed our families in an overcrowded Europe to entertain such notions. It took 150 years on a continent with unlimited space and endless, untapped resources for us to recognize the futility of feudalism.

When we celebrate our Declaration of Independence, it is more than a statement of national pride. We aren’t just saying “Ra-rah, hurray for our side.” We aren’t just yelling “We’re number one” like cheerleaders at a high school football game. We celebrate because we did something that was truly revolutionary, not just for us, but on a global scale.

Yes, some will quickly point out that “All men are created equal” was more about aspirations than reality. It took us a century to end slavery, then another century to fully restore the rights of citizenship to all. Even then, we have inequities that we still deal with today, but let’s not forget the almost universal state of brutality that dominated all of human history before our uprising. Thomas Hobbes told us that life was “nasty, brutish and short,” and it was, but we told the world that it didn’t have to be that way.

One staple of our celebration is fireworks. They were present as early as 1777 at Philidelphia’s first anniversary of the signing, but even before, John Adams wrote that observances of the declaration (which he believed would be held on July 2) would be “solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews, Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more.” Francis Scott Key’s mention of the rocket’s red glare in what became our national anthem didn’t hurt the association between fireworks and patriotism either, but Mr. Adams’ “shews” and illuminations seemed to catch on nicely without it.

I’m in a better position to enjoy fireworks now that my kids are grown. I no longer worry so much about missing fingers, and I can sit back on my deck and watch other people set fire to their twenty, fifty, and one-hundred-dollar bills. I live on the north end of town on a rise just high enough to see most of the aerial displays around town, and from my vantage point, I can see both the fireworks at the fairgrounds and the efforts of the east first street gang. I always enjoy the East First display because it gives the FairGrounds show a run for its money, and I can also be confident that the people lighting the fireworks have a good idea of what we’re celebrating. I don’t say that to disparage anyone else, I just know that those folks know, and that makes it a bit more meaningful.

Unfortunately, I don’t think I will be able to enjoy fireworks this year quite the way I have in the past. My view of world events is beginning to take some of the fun out of those displays for me. According to the American Pyrotechnics Association (APA), 70% of professional display fireworks come directly from China, as do 99% of backyard consumer fireworks. The APA also tells us that Americans will spend $400 million to display fireworks this year, and a whopping $2.3 billion (that’s with a “B”) dollars on the smaller stuff.

So let’s do some rough math. 70% of $400 million is $280 million. 99% of $2.3 billion is, well, almost $2.3 billion. If we put those together, the actual sum is $2.644 billion, and I’m just old enough to remember when that was a lot of money.

So what will our friends in China do with all of those greenbacks we send to them? It’s not enough to cover the cost of their new $9 billion aircraft carrier, but it will buy 24 of those snazzy new Chengdu J-20 fifth-generation fighters, or perhaps they could stretch it a bit further with

132 DF-41 hypersonic missiles or a thousand more of their ZTZ-99 tanks.

Chinese goods are now unavoidable in our country, and necessity often forces me to purchase items of Chinese manufacture. Fireworks, however, are a 100% discretionary purchase, so I am forced to ask myself if the people of Taiwan are less deserving of the freedoms that we enjoy. How about the Uyghur minorities being held in Xinjiang internment camps? Is 2023 Tibet less entitled to freedom than Boston in 1776? What about Hong Kong?

I mean no ill toward the local folks who roll out their tents and trailers to resell those items. That’s good old capitalism and there’s nothing more American than that. Before I hung up my sparklers a few years back, I was a customer of the Optimists stand and certainly don’t want to see them lose a source of revenue.

I would also hate to see the children who assemble the Roman candles, black cats, snakes, and snappers out of work–and the allegations of child labor use are not empty hyperbole. In 1999 Chinese officials were forced to admit publically that children were among the 40 workers killed in a manufacturing incident in Jiangxi, and it was later determined that some children had worked as long as 12 hours per day.

I don’t want to be a killjoy, but lining Chinese pockets just doesn’t strike me as an ideal way to celebrate freedom anymore. We all observe in our own way, of course, and everyone else is free to buy fireworks or not. That’s the whole idea behind freedom and I’ll cast no aspersions, but me? I’ll probably join my family canine as she cowers in the basement (doggys don’t dig fireworks either) and watch Gary Sinise introduce lukewarm acts on the National Mall. At least that way I’ll see a few tri-cornered hats and hear the 1812 Overture. That’s more my speed these days and is probably not so far from the “shews” that John Adams predicted.