I've written hundreds of thousands of words over the years, but this remains one of my all-time favorites, so I like to revisit it every year. It was originally written and published on July 5, 2002, which usually feels like years and days ago all at once, but this year actually feels like a lifetime away.
If this is your first time reading this story, leave me a comment, if you don't mind. I'm curious to know if you're a longtime reader, or a relatively new one. Thanks!
Fireworks
When I was growing up, we always spent Fourth of July with my father's aunt and uncle, at their fabulous house in Toluca Lake.
It was always a grand affair and I looked forward to spending each Independence Day listening to Sousa marches, swimming in their enormous pool and watching a fireworks show on the back patio.
This fireworks display was always exciting because we were in the middle of LA County, where even the most banal of fireworks – the glow worms – are highly illegal and carried severe fines and the threat of imprisonment, should we be discovered by LA's finest. The excitement of watching the beautiful cascade of sparks and color pouring out of a Happy Flower With Report was enhanced by the knowledge that we were doing something forbidden and subversive.
Yes, even as a child I was already on my way to being a dangerous subversive. Feel free to talk to any of my middle-school teachers if you doubt me.
Each year, the older children, usually teenagers and college-aged, would be chosen to light the fireworks and create the display for the rest of the family.
I was Chosen in 1987, three weeks before my fifteenth birthday.
The younger cousins, with whom I'd sat for so many years, would now watch me the way we'd watched Tommy, Bobby, Richard and Crazy Cousin Bruce, who always brought highly illegal firecrackers up from Mexico.
I was going to be a man in the eyes of my family.
This particular 4th of July was also memorable because it was the first 4th that was celebrated post-Stand By Me and at the time I had become something of a mini-celebrity around the family. Uncles who had never talked to me before were asking me to sign autographs for people at work, older cousins who had bullied me for years were proclaiming me “cool,” and I was the recipient of a lot of unexpected attention.
I was initially excited to get all this newfound attention, because I'd always wanted to impress my dad's family and make my dad proud, but deep down I felt like it was all a sham. I was the same awkward kid I'd always been and they were treating me differently because of celebrity, which I had already realized was fleeting and bullshit.
Looking back on it now, I think the invitation to light fireworks may have had less to do with my age than it had to do with my growing fame . . . but I didn't care. Fame is fleeting . . . but it can get a guy some cool stuff from time to time, you know? I allowed myself to believe that it was just a coincidence.
The day passed as it always did. There were sack races, basket ball games and water balloon tosses, all of which I participated in, but with a certain impatience. These yearly events were always fun, to be sure, but they were standing directly between me and the glorious excitement of pyrotechnic bliss.
Finally, the sun began to set. Lawn chairs were arranged around the patio, wet swimsuits were traded for warm, dry clothes, and I bid my brother and sister farewell as I joined my fellow firework lighters near the corner of the house. I walked casually, like someone who had done this hundreds of times before.
As the sun sank lower and lower, sparklers were passed out to everyone, even the younger children. I politely declined, my mind absolutely focused on the coming display. I wanted to make a big impression on the family. I was going to start out with something amazing, which would really grab their attention. I'd start with some groundflowers, then a Piccolo Pete and a sparkling cone. From then on, I'd just improvise with the older cousins, following their lead as we worked together to weave a spectacular tapestry of burning phosphor and gunpowder for five generations of family.
Dusk arrived, the family was seated, and the great display began. Some of the veteran fireworks lighters went first, setting off some cascading fountains and a pinwheel. The assembled audience cheered and gasped its collective approval, and it was my turn.
I steeled myself and walked to the center of the large patio, casually kicking aside the still-hot remains of just-fired fountains. Casually, like someone who had done this hundreds of times before.
My hands trembled slightly, as I picked up three ground flowers that I'd wound together. My thumb struck flint and released flaming butane. I lit the fuse and became a man. The sparkling fire raced toward the ignition point and rather than following the directions to “LIGHT FUSE, PUT ON GROUND AND GET AWAY,” I did something incredibly stupid: I casually tossed the now-flaming bundle of pyrotechnics on the ground. Casually, like someone who'd done this hundreds of times before.
The bundle of flowers rolled quickly across the patio, toward my captive and appreciative audience.
Two of the flowers ignited and began their magical dance of colorful fire on the cement, while the third continued to roll, coming to rest in the grass beneath the chair of a particularly old and close-to-death great-great-great aunt.
The colored flame which was creating such a beautiful and harmless display on the patio was spraying directly at this particular matriarch, the jet of flame licking obscenely at the bottom of the chair.
The world was instantly reduced to a few sounds: My own heartbeat in my ears, the screams of the children seated near my great-great-great aunt and the unmistakable zip of the now-dying flowers on the patio.
I don't know what happened, but somehow my great-great-great aunt, who'd managed to survive every war of the 20th century, managed to also survive this great mistake of mine. She was helped to her feet and she laughed.
Unfortunately, she was the only one who was laughing. One of my dad's cousins, who was well into his 20s and never attended family gatherings accompanied by the same date, sternly ripped the lighter from my hand and ordered me back to the lawn, to sit with the other children. Maybe I could try again next year, when I was “more responsible and not such a careless idiot."
I was crushed. My moment in the family spotlight was over before it had even begun and not even the glow of pseudocelebrity could save me.
I carefully avoided eye contact, as I walked slowly, humiliated and embarrassed, back to the lawn, where I tried not to cry. I know the rest of the show unfolded before me, but I don't remember it. All I could see was a mental replay of the bundle of ground flowers rolling across the patio. If that one rogue firework hadn't split off from its brothers, I thought, I would still be up there for the finale, which always featured numerous pinwheels and a Chinese lantern.
When the show was over, I was too embarrassed to apologize and I raced away before the patio lights could come on. I spent the rest of the evening in the front yard, waiting to go home.
The following year I was firmly within the grip of sullen teenage angst and spent most of the festivities with my face planted firmly in a book -Foundation or something, most likely- and I watched the fireworks show with the calculated disinterest of a 15-year-old.
That teenage angst held me in its grasp for the next few years and I even skipped a year or two, opting to attend some parties where there were girls who I looked at, but never had the courage to talk to.
By the time I had achieved escape velocity from my petulant teenage years, Aunt Betty and Uncle Dick had sold the house and 4th of July would never happen with them again.
The irony is not lost on me, that I wanted so badly to show them all how grown up I was, only to behave more childishly than ever the following years.
This 4th of July, I sat on the roof of my friend Darin's house with Anne and the boys and watched fireworks from the high school. Nolan held my hand and Ryan leaned against me as we watched the Chamber of Commerce create magic in the sky over La Crescenta.
I thought back to that day, 15 years ago and once again I saw the groundflower roll under that chair and try to ignite great-great-great aunt whatever her name was.
Then I looked down at Nolan's smiling face, illuminated in flashes of color.
"This is so cool, Wil!” he declared, “Thanks for bringing us to watch this."
"Just be glad you're on a roof and not in a lawn chair,” I told him.
"Why?"
"Well . . . ” I began to tell him the story, but we were distracted by a particularly spectacular aerial flower of light and sparks.
In that moment, I realized that no matter how hard I try, I will never get back that day in 1987, nor will I get to relive the sullen years afterward . . . but I do get to sit on the roof with my wife and her boys now and enjoy 4th of July as a step-dad . . . at least until the kids hit the sullen years themselves.
Then I'm going to sit them in lawn chairs and force them to watch me light groundflowers.
Still as great a read as ever. Hope you had a happy Canada Day (since you’re an adopted son of Canada through your stays in Vancouver) and have a happy Fourth!
My favorite Wil Wheaton story…It tells me more about you…than anything else i’ve ever read here…An honest retelling of an event that changed you…
One thing happening on one particular day…Can do so much good…or do so much damage.
I’m a fairly long-term (couple of years) but irregular and infrequent reader, so this is the first time I’ve seen this story. Thanks for it. I can see why it’s one of your favorites.
This line: I was going to be a man in the eyes of my family.
Made me think of bar mitzvahs ;>
A good read – I could feel the cringe of the not quite 15 year old you when the ground flowers betrayed you and the loss of the ensuing few years – glad you got to have good ones with your new family :>
oh – and “long time reader” who only drops by very occasionally ;>
This is my first time reading this story (and I admit, my first time reading your site).
This was a great, little story! Great read! (Yes, you deserve the two greats!)
This is the first time I’ve read this story–I’ve only been following you since I joined Twitter, which would be about a year ago.
This story is so good because it captures the way our minds do work when we’re teenagers, even when we’re not suffering from the side effects of celebrity. That is to say, you’ve captured the universal in the particular. I think we all have those moments in the family hierarchy that we build up in our mind, because they mean we’ll be that much closer to what we think is the coolness of maturity.
I like it… It’s elegant, very human. First time reader, and I do believe it’s rather nice.
First time reading this story…relatively new to your blog (though had I known about it, would have been reading years ago!). We all have those moments where we completely humiliated ourselves in front of our extended families…you captured it perfectly with your words. 🙂 Glad you can laugh at yourself now and that you’ve made plenty of great memories with your boys!
First time reading this. Great story. I understand why it’s so important to you.
Im a fairly new reader of yours and I absolutely love stories about your childhood. As a teenager myself (17) I can relate to them so much. Can’t wait to read more 🙂
Great read! Thanks for sharing. Hilarious, serious and nice perspective.
Fantastic story, Wil. I’m one of those newer readers you requested a comment from. I’ve been putting off buying one of your books for too long. This story has pushed me over the edge. Purchasing now!
Well this tells me that I have been enjoying your blog for about a year now.
This was one of the first of many great stories I remember reading.
I’ve just started reading your stuff and I love it! I started following you on twitter and I am glad I did because you never cease to entertain me. So thanks for that haha
Thanks for stopping by! I hope you'll come back, or check out the archives.
Great story. This is the first time I have read this one, although I have read a few of your other posts. We can’t relive our pasts, but when we share parts of our younger selves with the people in our lives now, a few of the stories can live forever.
Thanks!
Thank you 🙂
I’m a first time reader, and entirely empathetic. I cringed like I was there!
Good luck with the groundflowers this time around. I feel like your stepsons will need it..
Can I be all Dad Voice for a second? Try to give your parents a break for the next few years. It's always tough for us when our babies are on the cusp of adulthood, and we want to stop you from making all the same mistakes we made at your age.
Thanks for reading!
I started following you on Twitter and have read your blog occasionally since. I read this story in “Just a Geek” but it still has the same impact on the second reading. You’ve perfectly captured that pain of something you can’t ever undo; even now you still feel that, don’t you? Even after sharing the fireworks with your family that ache is still palpable…
Yeah, every year I read this when I post it, and the slow motion horror replays in my mind.
Wow, great story. I’m a generally new reader who has been reading your blog for about 3-4 weeks (because honestly I knew you from the guild but I never actually knew who you were until I watch a PAX DnD game with you in it). The story itself was great, and what I got from it was A. Shit Happens, and B. Having Authority is win. After reading this maybe I will buy one of your books or something, dunno which one…but one of em. Nice read and keep the awesome blog-y-ness coming!
First time I’ve read this story. It’s fantastic. Became interested in your blog sometime after you appeared as a moderator at last year’s Big Bang Theory Comic Con Panel and listening to your guest appearance on the Nerdist Podcast.
Oh, our teenage years…There is so much that we alternate being still embarrassed by, wishing we could forget, and being grateful for in how we can reflect on where we are currently.
I’ve been reading for a couple of years off and on, but I think that this is the first time I’ve read this story – I’ve only recently started reading really “faithfully” when I started using Twitter a few months ago.
It’s always interesting to get your “Alpha-Nerd” sort of view of the world, but I think I like your stories of your childhood even more. It can be weird how relate-able your stories are, even when they are surrounded by times on the set of TNG or Stand By Me.
The way childhood seems to end right as you start to appreciate it definitely hits home for me. I don’t know if I ever had the chance to have those “initiation into manhood” moments.
This is the first time I have read any of your stories. Quite good, enjoyable and entertaining.
I found your blog (orginal one that has been phased out I think)one evening when I was cruising the Internet. Had always wondered what had become of you after Star Trek. I remembered a young geeky kid who irritated me on Star Trek, but, after a while, your character grew on me. Now, after catching up via this blog it comes as a surprise that you have two grown kids, one in college?
Time flies. Star Trek was one of my favorite sci fi tv shows, Star Trek Enterprise was also good, Voyager, well, it was ok. I have always wondered why you never were cast in the Star Trek movies. Perhaps you answered that question in your blog.
ComicCon was in San Antonio, Texas this last month. I had hoped that you would attend but did not see you on the list nor was any mention made of your attendance on your blog. Well, perhaps one day you will come. San Antonio is great, perhaps you have visited there, but if not, you will like it.
Still undecided on whether to buy your book or not. 🙂 Look forward to reading more of your blog postings.
First time to your blog (via Twitter). Great story! It seems simple, but this process is monumental for the mental health of adults: acknowledging, rather than repressing, our moments of youthful humiliation, and then ultimately being able to laugh at ourselves. It is a great gift we can give ourselves! You have a wonderful sense of self-awareness and self-reflection, and it’s wonderful that you can share it with people.
Oh, goodness. I can see it like I were there. I really appreciate your narrative voice, Wil. With a few carefully chosen and delicately placed turns of phrase, you set a complete scene in my imagination. I especially enjoyed the universality of this piece; who among us hasn’t made an absolute spacker of themselves? What an excellent composition, I fully enjoyed it.
I’m a first-time visitor (thanks, Twitter!) and I’ll be back.
I’m a fairly recent reader of your blog,(I’ve read this story before in Just a Geek, however) but I’ve been a fan of yours for as long as I can remember. When I was growing up, the only VHS tapes we had around our house were Star Trek episodes and Stand By Me (which remains my favorite movie to this day). I’d also like to let you know that Wesley was the main reason that I became a scientist…I have never even entertained the idea of being anything else. You’ve changed my life with your work- not only Star Trek and Stand By Me, but your blog and books as well. Thank you, Wil, from the bottom of my heart.
First time reading this story. I have read a few of your other posts. I especially enjoyed the Scrabble game story with your wife. Checked out your blog via Twitter,by way of Leverage. I will bravely admit that I have never watched Star Trek, but through your writing here, found you to be a man devoted to his family and a witty, insightful writer.
I’m a fairly new reader, and this is the first time I’ve seen this story. I’ve just read memories of the future part 1, and just started The Day After and other stories. I’ve been a fan for quite a while but never realized you wrote fiction until recently. I think I relate to this tale because I can sense both the pucker-factor and the subsequent shame of not quite meeting expectations.
(P.S. If you get a chance, check out my own 4th of july repost at http://15minutelunch.blogspot.com)
First time reading this story, been lurking on your blog and following your tweets for a couple of months or so now, occasionally reading your stories and enjoying almost all of them. I am the father of three young boys, and I love to hear you talk about your interactions with your own boys. I look forward to the days when my 8, 6, and 3 yr old are old enough for us to “hang out” doing more grown up, or at the least, more young adult things.
I could relate to your story, with similar fireworks mishaps happening just a few years ago in my neighbourhood, the only difference being the childish ones being a bunch of supposed adult 38 yr olds. A little girl was hurt, neighbours were “shot at” and a pick up truck took one in the side. We have a story to tell, but unfortunately at the expense of our stupidity.
About your blog and tweets; I may not be “into” all the same things that you are, but that is what makes us all individuals, and I appreciate your dedication to all the things that make you, you, just as what I am into myself makes me, me. I can tell by the way that you write about your “likes” they make you just as happy as my “likes” make me. This is why I enjoy your writings. The fact that you are a hockey fan who lives and dies by his team, like me, is just icing on the cake. Us puckheads have to stick together!
Look forward to reading many more of your stories, both past and present, and experiencing growing up with my boys as you have yours.
All the best.
Fairly new reader … I hope that someday when you think back on this you’ll laugh as hard as I just did. And I mean that in a kind way, not a smartass one.
Will, this story gets better each time I read it. My kids and I are huge fans and always look forward to your work! We are looking forward to seeing you once again at PAX.
Ray, Lennon and Savannah
I just thought I would comment, seeing as you asked so nicely. I’m a first time reader of this piece, though I find it hard to believe I have been reading your blog less than a year. I guess my excuse for not reading it earlier is that I am 17 (at least for a couple more months) and so it is required that I go to parties featuring girls I won’t talk to. The piece was great to read, and I really felt I could connect to the events, even though we don’t really celebrate American independence with quite the same enthusiasm here in the UK. Please continue the fine bloggings.
Great story Wil, sorry if I laughed so hard at your description of the events but you tell the story in such a way that I can picture it very well in my mind even though I wasn’t there. Ah, life, ironic how it comes to prove us we’re wrong in feeling mature around those years, sometimes it’s for the best though.
Thanks for sharing this with us, oh and by the way it’s the first time I comment although I’ve been following on Twitter for a while now.
I remember first reading this in Just a Geek, and love it. Every time I read it and I get to the part where one of your ground flowers catches fire near your great great great aunt, I feel a deep sense of horror and humiliation. Almost the same exact thing happened to me one July 4th. Only instead of it being my great great great aunt, it was my brother’s beloved Chihuahua Willy and my aunt’s prized zucchini plants.
That dog still has Vietnam flashbacks every time he sees any sort of flame or squash like vegetable. 🙁
First time read, for me – so I’ve been following you on Twitter for *almost* a year, i guess. This is a lovely piece, it’s always kind of wonderful when writing about a moment-gone-wrong or a missed opportunity creates in itself something – the basis of a story – that would not otherwise have come into being. Having grown up in the same era as you, your nostalgia/memory writing is always a favorite – except of course for your tweeted recountings of conversations with your animals, which are obvs teh best writing evahhh. =)
First time reading – this post.
Love the brutal honesty.
My experience was slightly different – maybe I will write a piece on it.
My cousin and I were caught on fire at the young age of ten and then had the fire put out by our drunk uncles pouring beer on us. The experience was unforgettable.
I’ve been a reader for just under a year, I’m guessing. (Since this was my first time seeing this story.) Like everyone else commenting I could hear that admonishment [empathetic wince] and feel your teenage shame…but what resonates for me about this post, more than any other thing – is that you said your wife and her boys.
Even as one of your relatively new readers, I know that the kids who were up on that rooftop w/you are your boys now, too. For me, that’s the best part.
I have been following your blog and tweets for a few months now – since right after discovering Big Bang Theory and proceeding to watch all seasons on Netflix.
And now my husband and I are watching TNG (my first time – he’s a star trek nerd so he’s enthusiastic I’m finally watching) on Instant. Halfway through season one – loving the epic sweaters so far 😀
Thanks for the great story – you have a natural talent for weaving stories – keep it up! I find myself laughing out loud all the time (when appropriate) and re-tweeting frequently.
Happy 4th!
I remember reading your blog a time or two almost a decade ago, but I only became a regular reader in the last couple of years. I think this 4th of July story is actually one of the first things I read when I came back. It’s still a great story. Happy 4th!
First time reading this post. I first found your blog via a link to the infamous (and wonderfully done) W.F.Schatner post and have been an occasional reader since. As a long time fan who grew up enamored with STTNG it is wonderful to see you are a talented writer doing so well and not off in rehab like so many childhood stars. As a recent twit, I hope to read your twitter feed for many years to come.
I’ve been reading your blog for awhile now, but my first time reading this story.
Really great. I felt that nervous butterfly feeling as I was reading the part of the firecracker that got away. I’m sure I’ve had my own situations like that too.
I still have to get some of your books though.. Love your writing style.
PS, thanks for the recommendation of the website No High Scores. I love it.
PPS, next time your in Vancouver shooting, go for a trip to Victoria on Vancouver Island if you haven’t already been!
I’ve been reading your blog for awhile now, but my first time reading this story. Thanks for sharing it.
I can see why that’s your favorite story! I also love getting a little more insight into my 16 year old step-son’s teenage angst! (I also have a step-daughter who’s almost 12,and my youngest step-son is 10.)
I’ve read a few of your other blogs (about Jonathan Frakes used to be cool, and one about letting one of your step-sons read some prized books of yours. That one was pretty awesome!)
I’ve been reading your blog regularly for almost a year now. This is my first time reading this story, and I love it.
As much as I love the description of the childhood event, I’m especially drawn to the ending because this is the first year I have a child old enough to enjoy fireworks. I’ve always loved fireworks (ask my husband about me dragging him from Downtown Disney back to Magic Kingdom in 20 minutes so we could be there to see the show), but our son is almost two this year, and the light is somehow even more amazing reflected on his face. Thank you for capturing some of that emotion. It’s a great story and beautifully written.
As requested, a first time reader of this story posting a comment. I’m a casual reader of your blog, twitter, etc…and you once signed my sketchbook @ the Dumbrella booth @ Comic Con with a pretty good joke.
Great story, and I try very to follow the “don’t be a dick” ethos in life.
Reasonably long term reader, first time seeing this story (and maybe first time commenter?). Just came in from watching fireworks, and this story just reminds me that every one screws up the simplest things sometimes. Always good to read your work, Wil, and hope to see you at GenCon again this year.
This was my first time. I read your blog posts regularly, and have for the past half year or so, and I was an infrequent reader before that. I’m glad I got to read this, and I am glad you wrote it. I have my own angsty fireworks story set in LA, probably this same year, and I think you’ve inspired me to write it down. I’d love to tell my own kids about it someday. Thanks.