The weekend just passed in Sydney Australia my homeland was what is commonly referred to as "The Queens Birthday Long Weekend". Not unlike all Australian traditions it is strange that we take a holiday for a monarch we no longer seem to have a lot of reverence for. It is even more ironic since her birthday is actually in May and not June. Still a birthday is a birthday and it gives everyone a chance to take Monday off work at the tax payers expense so nobody complains, not even her majesty.
Unfortunately like most things in life a vast amount of strange traditions have disappeared in the wake of the remotest possibility that someone might in fact loose ones eye or perhaps even a limb. Therefore allowing the tradition of the general public to let off fireworks at home in their backyard during the Queens Birthday Long Weekend has now sadly evaporated. Well actually it was made illegal. The memories of those "Cracker Nights" exists now in the dark recesses of older people's minds and in some it may now be a permanent reminder every time they look at a fingerless hand or an open eye socket.
You see "Cracker Night" was a time during generation X's childhood that comes with mixed emotions. Here is a little of how it went for those readers who are uninitiated into the world of letting young children loose with gun powder, matches and poorly made home explosives.
For many weeks before "Cracker Night" children throughout the land would save every cent they could get their hands on, prior to blowing their fingers off, in order to purchase fireworks. Once money had been saved the child could then take themselves off to their corner shop or newsagent and procure a complete array of fireworks. These fireworks were generally kept by families in a large cardboard box (in the case of my household) and it was with great pride that the box would be filled up to the brim prior to the big night. I know all you Gen Y's are thinking "Didn't you need a license". The answer is no, you could be a primary school kid and purchase a highly dangerous one light of a match and your head will explode off your shoulders firework. So Gen Y shove that in your boring little cake holes and light it.
To give you an example of the types of fireworks we had access to here is a brief description of some of the more "popular" and well known varieties.
There were "Throwdowns" - (little packets of gunpowder wrapped in paper and when thrown against a hard surface or at the back of someones head would explode with a loud, pop). No lighting required hence they made a great gift for the under five year old set who could pop away as long as they had their slippers on.
The 10 ball "Shooter" - (a long stick that was lit via a fuse, after much preparation of the surrounding lawn where a hole had to be dug in order to stick the stick. Smart people did this during day light hours but dumb fucks - practically everyone else - did it just prior to lighting it then running really really fast in order to get out of the way) Then the family would stand in delight and count down the balls being shot into the air - 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,......Hang on........9..............................................."Fuck the last one didn't go off"............................................. "Its a dud, its a dud".........................."Hey someone go and check it and see if the fuse is still lit"................... Then of course some goose would approach just as the last ball shot into their face and blew their eye out. End of Cracker night and a long wait at casualty with all the other ball shooter victims.
The "Catherine Wheel" a firework that consisted of a gun powdered filled spiral tube, or even better an angled rocket mounted (generally in the dark with a rusty nail to a rickety old wooden fence) with a pin in the centre. Or to break it down for Gen Y it was a round disc not unlike a CD that you nailed to the back fence, lit the wick and run like all fuck. This was because they always popped off the fence and chased the entire family through the back yard as it spun wildly out of control. It is interesting to note that the Catherine Wheel firework is in fact named after a instrument of torture "the breaking wheel" of which, legend has it that St Catherine was martyred. I can only speak of my experience that having a CD that is shooting sparks in every direction and approaching you at the speed of sound is nothing short of fuck off scary.
But I leave the best till last, the most exciting and generally the firework that was left at the bottom of the box so as to cap off an evening of potential skin grafts, eye losses and third degree burns oh not to mention the roof of your house catching alight, the Catherine wheel burning down all the clothes left on the line and the $2000 + vet bill after someone forgot to put the dog inside the house. Yes this was the one that had the potential to make you get out of bed the next morning and jump for joy, that is if you still had skin on the bottom of your feet and run the streets looking just looking for the...........
"Parachute" firework. Yes ladies and gents this was a stick that again you stuck in the hole in the ground and lit the fuse and run like hell. Only this time it was one or two balls, or so it seemed that would shoot up into the air. Then just like magic a little parachute would emerge, glowing like a lantern in the night sky, along with the neighbours roof alight after it caught on fire from the ball shooter. But I digress, yes the parachute it would gently waft down, down, down, down to whence you could not be sure. Could it have landed on your property, could it have landed up the road, who could tell in the pitch black but in the morning you could wake to the surprise of. "Oh yes yes yes holy fuck I found a parachute in our tree". It was the icing or the plastic skin on a third degree burn delight. The said item of the parachute could then be displayed by the owner as a badge of honour. I found the fucken parachute. Wooopie.
So there you have it, aren't you just disappointed if you are Gen Y that you were not old enough to sport a pirate eye patch in your later years. Poor pets. Of course there were some people who not only let off crackers but who spent months and months collecting wood and making a giant fuck off bonfire ta boot. Of course these were usually rich fuckers that I didn't know so I can't comment on whether it was as much fun as watching your neighbour put out a fire on his shed roof with a garden hose.
So yes "Cracker Night" ahhhhh it used to be the most environmentally unfriendly night of my life and you know I loved every moment of every carbon emission glee. So here's to you "Cracker Night' and to the wonder of holding a firework in your hand whilst you light it and run for your dear life, and of course limb.
