I want you to close your eyes and relax. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Slow. Slowwwww…
Now imagine: it’s a warm night in early summer. You and your friends are playing outside, maybe off-the-point, or “hit-the-penny”, under the streetlights. Maybe listening to one of the teenager’s transistor radio. What’s playing? Maybe “Wooly Bully”. Fireflies glow. Can you see it? Good.
Now imagine: your dad is talking with his friends. The grownups have the ballgame on their radio. They are smoking. One of your friends comes out of their apartment building with cracker balls, firecrackers in their crackly red wrappers with intricate Asian labels, and sparklers.
You take a sparkler from the box and walk over to your dad. “Can you light this for me?” you ask.
Now — and this is important — visualize your dad taking a silver Zippo lighter from his shirt pocket. He flips it open, flicks the ignition wheel with his thumb, and lights the tiny blob at the tip of your sparkler.
Lo and behold, it ignites. Imagine the scent of that chemical ignition. DO YOU SMELL IT? Now, imagine yourself holding the sparkler aloft as you march up and down the block, humming Stars and Stripes Forever. To the grownups, you must look like a little moron, but you are having a ball.
Your friend walks over to his dad and asks for a puff of his Lucky Strike. His dad keeps talking to his friend as he proffers the cigarette. Your friends puffs, which triggers a paroxysm of coughing.
You smile and inhale that burning chemical goodness of your sparkler. Your dad lit your sparkler with his silver Zippo in one cool motion, and you thought, for a brief moment, you were safe, and loved.
Now open your eyes. You are back in the now. And, if you’re anything like me, you know better.