This is a short story, as I have never been big on fireworks, actual or metaphorical.
But, whether related to this initial aversion or not, I have always been reluctant to embrace metaphorical fireworks either. Just something too ephemeral and excessive for my "all things in moderation" view of life.
As to the former, I just thought they were too damn loud and scary. (I may be part dog in that regard.) As a kid, I didn’t mind watching them go off silently — such as in the opening of Jackie Gleason’s “Honeymooners” show — but the noise scared me to death. My most vivid recollection of them when young — and no doubt Freud would consider this the root cause — was one year at the 4th of July carnival that the volunteer fire department in my hometown always sponsored. Having gone to the carnival, as usual, during the day, I expressed an interest in also seeing the fireworks, even though they did not go on until right at the end of the last night – – the proverbial climax. My parents were going to a party that night but they agreed that, if I went to bed at my bedtime, they would wake me up when they got back and we would go. They did, I did, and we went. And I was soon holding my ears and howling to go home. I just never thought they would be THAT loud. From then on through my childhood, I avoided the fireworks night at the carnival. I thought that watching the bonfire the night before — rumored to be made from all the cases of beer the firemen had gone through in the past year while viewing stag movies at their weekly “meetings” — was much more exciting. Again, let’s get Freud to weigh in on that one….
Anyhow, over time, I made my peace with real fireworks, and in fact even enjoyed the Grucci displays over the East and Hudson Rivers during my years in New York — miles away from where I was standing, of course. But, whether related to this initial aversion or not, I have always been reluctant to embrace metaphorical fireworks either. Just something too ephemeral and excessive for my “all things in moderation” view of life. And the fact that I have spent most of my career as a lawyer in risk management positions, whether cause or effect, has only deepened my suspicion of all thing fireworks-y.
And, as to the obvious metaphorical issue of erotic fireworks, while I very much look forward to reading others’ supercharged stories on the topic, I will simply demur as to my own experiences via the old “Gentlemen don’t tell” escape hatch.