Fireworks: Up in Smoke

(OK, so some of this is a little out of date, but still relevant :)  Mike worried when I told him I was almost running out of material and within 10 days, I had another huge stack of pieces to type up, so this kind of got lost in the shuffle.  Enjoy!)

"…Just like that, another holiday weekend went by.  It was a good weekend for me.  A few friends and I put together a softball team.  We won the first game and so we advanced and then we lost the second.  Still, as I stood there rooting on my team, something dawned on me.  The team was made up on men who were black, white, and Hispanic.  …Many races and different crimes.  Once upon a time, we were all bad men.

All I saw was Seymour on second, Mark on first, Rev was pitchin’ and “Smoke” was in left field.  These are my buddies.  While we were on that field, we all had one thing in common.  We had freed our minds.

We all need this, but some days it’s hard to find behind these walls.  These days, I’m a writer.  I tend to keep an eye out for things to write about.  This just seemed like something worth sharing.

Our lunch was the best I have eaten since I came to prison.  They gave us so much food!  …A hot dog and a hamburger, a piece of corn on the cob, a brownie and a slice of watermelon.  That’s the first time I’ve had watermelon since I came to prison.  It was so good!  We all walked away from that meal holding our bellies.  Nothing went to waste.  People were sharing, trading – it’s really quite comical sometimes.  Bottom line: The day was a success.  One of my best ever.  A day to remember, for sure.

Later in the evening, the New York fireworks were on TV.  Absolutely beautiful.  I love to watch things explode!

Even as a boy, I would go and spend all my money at the firework stand.  My dad would always say the same thing: “What a waste!  There goes your money…up in smoke.”

No, Dad, it was not a waste.  Just more memories for me to pull up on a rainy day.

…Like the time me and my brother Aaron had purchased a whole brick of Black-Cat boomers.  We wanted them to last forever.  Perhaps due to Dad's constant bitching, we lit them one by one.

"Never attempt to light firecrackers in a closed container," kids.

The problem was that you have to remove the slow-burn fuse to light them individually.  What you’re left with is enough gun powder to blow off fingers and a short-ass fuse!  …A dilemma me and Aaron know all too well.

Luckily, we both still have all our fingers, and laughs for a life-time!

I’m not saying money up in smoke is a good investment.  I’m not saying our Dad was a major party-pooper…

What WAS I saying, anyway?

Right!  The New York fireworks on TV…

(Photo by Ken Goldfield for News, found at NY Daily News)

Crazy, the things that run through my mind.  I sat there and listened to the music and watched the beautiful explosions, the reflections they made off the water (their fireworks are done from boats on the Hudson River).

At one point, I got to thinking about what the holiday means.  Independence Day.  It made me think.  Here I sit, in prison, watching the show on TV.  However, one day I will sit out there and watch the show again.  As a free man, that will be MY Independence Day.

The thought struck me so hard, it was emotional.  Not in a bad way, but just realizing what “freedom” really means.  People through history have given their lives for our freedom.  One day, I too will be free again.

Do you ever realize how blessed you are to be free?

Something many of us take for granted – myself included.  Not so much lately!  J  But you get my point.

These days, I’m making my “to-do” list. …Stuff I want to do after I am released.  I just added one more.  I have never been to New York city, and I want to go.  Not just that, but I want to go on Independence Day and watch those same fireworks.

Just because I can.

One small difference – I will be free then.  That’s why I have to go.  I want a room overlooking the bay, a few close friends to share the memory with.  I’ll once again see the color and reflection off the water, and I will raise my glass in a toast to freedom.  …To my very own Independence.

I’m sure that will be a very emotional time for me as well.  Hell, maybe I could invite my dad.  …And maybe not.

Just now I realized what would make the moment perfect; A few good men who know about the struggle.  The struggle to be free.  Free from drugs, free from walls and chains.  Guys I can look in the eye and communicate a lifetime to, without speaking a word.  And there are some women out there who have the same story to tell.  My brothers and sisters.  The real Hooligans!

Whatever you are going through…

Whatever you just declared yourself free from – my hat is off to you.  You’re not alone.  We’re men and women all over the country.  Stay free, my friends!"

Much Love, the Hooligan, M.S.