I have some of those small twisted-paper packets filled with gunpowder that some of us knew as "poppers" or "snappers". I believe them to be 25 or 30 years old... and yet they still work!
The first 'home firework' I ever saw was a sparkler that Dad found in a drawer of Grandma's old treadle sewing machine. The thing must have been fifty years old but it lit right up and dazzled five-year-old me. Nothing so dramatic as the suicide-bomber Hen, though.
I've got about 100 bottle rockets and maybe 300 black cat firecrackers that must be 25 years old at least. Since they were illegal in Iowa at that time, we had to go to Missouri or Wisconsin to buy them. My fear about lighting them up now is that they might have some very short fast burning fuses.
How will we know which one’s the Komodo 3000?
I have some of those small twisted-paper packets filled with gunpowder that some of us knew as "poppers" or "snappers". I believe them to be 25 or 30 years old... and yet they still work!
Last night, I listened to Jean Shepard's bit about the Dago Bomb. Another reminder of what a great story teller sounds like.
Ahh, the nostalgic sound of the death scream of a flaming chicken. Good times.
Wait THAT’S what working looks like?
The first 'home firework' I ever saw was a sparkler that Dad found in a drawer of Grandma's old treadle sewing machine. The thing must have been fifty years old but it lit right up and dazzled five-year-old me. Nothing so dramatic as the suicide-bomber Hen, though.
I've got about 100 bottle rockets and maybe 300 black cat firecrackers that must be 25 years old at least. Since they were illegal in Iowa at that time, we had to go to Missouri or Wisconsin to buy them. My fear about lighting them up now is that they might have some very short fast burning fuses.