They just don't make 'em like they used to. 
When I was a kid every year around the end of July you'd see a kid with an unbelievable Roman candle facial injury, teen age boys with M-80 missing fingers, and all sorts of walking wounded, and angry mothers.
These silly whistle puffs today are unworthy of any dad's Zippo.
Doctor Bywater, who lived a corner away from us, told me about cutting dead skin out of kid's Roman candled mouth for over a year.
My Grandfather sent the princely sum of 100 dollars every year to Missouri for a box of explosives that would remain unopened until the appropriate day when we would once again awaken the Founding Fathers of our beloved country. 
I had the best.
God bless this country and the rest of the world it resides in.