When we hear of people making bombs it seems scary or at least weird and psychopathic but my old boyfriend made bombs for a while and I didn’t think anything of it. He made them in our living room using fireworks. It was a hobby of his. We sat on the couch smoking dope and listening to music and he constructed his bombs. One evening we went out to the country with his friend Larry and they set them off while I waited in the car, reading. It was stupid, I thought.
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Categories: memoir
Tags: bomb-making
Alison Clement 
My Dad had a miniature cannon he liked to fire. Many of us go out to watch old buildings being imploded. Boys like to blow up pumpkins and toss rocks in still ponds. It’s when it damages the environment, other peoples property (including public property) and especially when it is intended and designed to kill and maim animals or people it is wrong.
We were somewhat innocent back then. 911 robbed us many things. I miss America’s sense of humor.
I once showed Mrs. Gist’s high school Speech class how to make a molotov cocktail, but it was not a terrorist act. Simply me, being a smart ass.
Sounds like you were too much fun! Reminds me of when I met my best friend while she was standing in the hall outside of her Math class. I, too, was punished in the same way. I was ordered out in the hall from my English class. As I glanced down the hall, I spotted Sally. She smiled devilishly and shrugged her shoulders. Immediately, I thought anyone who wasn’t threatened by our sometimes foolish teachers, should be lots of fun. She became my friend, and she still is.