Call it the brown in me, but something happens to my heart when I’m encouraged to light a fuse and blow something up.

Everything from the first flick of a lighter to the ensuing sizzle of a wick working overtime to the burrowing of the flame into the innards of a poorly wrapped burrito of gun powder to the final neon-sound spectacular. It’s more explosive than my hungover visit to the porcelain well earlier this week. Yet with same stomach-snagging sensations…

And while I, and thousands of American children, get our turbans starched and retardant for tonight’s festivities, some of our Fear-ocracy’s puritan voices have got their kurta’s in a bunch. After years of extensive research, they’ve deciphered a pattern - over half of the nation’s +9,000 firework-related accidents occur during the early summer months - coincidentally, the only months fireworks can be legally sold to the public.

And they’re using this earth-shattering evidence to emblazon their voice: “Don’t let children play with fireworks, period.”

I suppose the Consumer Products Safety Commission and Safe Kids USA expect children’s parents to put M-80s in the neighboring mailboxes, then. And have their uncles conduct symphonies of color with sparklers on behalf of their nephew’s and nieces. The children, of course, will be busy discussing the direction of our nation’s foreign policy and acclaiming the provisions of Constitution that give them a voice too and pledging allegiance to flag while the rest of the country is entranced by the explosions of Blow-up-istan.