My Website’s a Firework Flop, and I’m the Muppet with the Match

I thought making a website would be easy—like lighting a TNT Opening Show and watching it go. Nope. It’s more like trying to light those new small Phantom sparklers in a storm while yelling, “Why wont you lightttt?!” I’ve got ideas—big, bright, lightening flash bright ideas—but fitting them into one of those clean, pro-style designs? I’m lost like that sparkler in the rain. I can handle the simple stuff: a title that doesn’t look like Pyro Cat scratched it, some talk about my firework love, a picture of a TNT stand that’s okay if you ignore the blur. But making it look nice like those web pros who probably drink fancy coffee in soft robes? I’m done for. Maybe it’s how busy I am and my time—editing in quick bits, 10 minutes here, 15 there, between work and life’s nonstop hits—but I’m moving forward. If you’re still here, you’re either liking this mess or too stubborn to leave. Either way, help me.. please: drop a comment with your ideas for my site. I’m one mess-up from turning this into Pyro Cat’s journal.

My craziest idea yet? Online classes or courses... First idea was a safety course, I pictured kids signing in, learning my shaky lessons, and getting a certificate so cool they’d shock their parents: “Mom! Dad! Beastlol taught me not to light fountains near dead grass—only green grass is safe!” It’s a happy thought—showing the next group how to enjoy fountains right, one spark at a time. Then I remembered me at 12, playing firework lab in my backyard: I took an old tube, broke 50 sparklers, stuffed the sparklers in with the red sticks in like I was loading a musket, and lit it. Boom— it shot in the air about 30 feet and hit my roof, and a mom who still talks about it over 4th of July dinner. So maybe I’m not the safety star I’d hoped—more the Muppet-voiced warning with a burnt shirt. But I’m a hopeful guy! Start ‘em with TNT fountains, teach some “don’t be me” tips, and maybe if they become bad boys and get their hands on cakes they will do it without starting fires. Less trouble, fewer flames, maybe a day when “Local Fool Burns Yard” isn’t my story. It’s a big maybe, but I’ve got a heart full of sparks and silly dreams. That or the sparks I feel is too much caffine..

Here’s the bad news: I feel fireworks might be dying. Drone shows are taking over—safer, prettier, no angry neighbors over a stray Phantom groundbloom, or the 1000th 911 call for people light salute cakes.

I saw this one drone show online—lights making a big eagle shape—and sat there, amazed, thinking, “people are going to think fireworks are old news.” Our only chance is if TNT and Phantom throw money at lawmakers—“Keep the fountains going, for the kids!”—while I hold a dead already lit cone like some old-timey grandpa at a barbecue. If drones win, I’ll be the grumpy old man on the porch, saying, “We used to have real FIREWORKS!!,” as kids stare at quiet sky pictures. I tried my flying my drone recently—crashed it into a bush in 10 seconds. I’ll stick to lighters and torches.

But I’m not giving up on the website or my course/class idea—it’s my mountain, and I’m climbing it with guts and a list of mistakes. I want to share my ways in a "Master class": how I find TNT and Phantom fountains that dont suck, how I count tubes like a kid with baseball cards, how I avoid junk. I’ve got a research plan—part searcher, part ADHD hyper focus—checking prices, reading pyro posts, watching videos, looking at TNT and Phantom assortments for the real deal. It’s a huge job sometimes, and I’m worried about charging $9.99. People will be like why learn when he just posts the videos anyways! But I just want to teach people that its not that hard, even though I just said its a huge job...

The Joker—Heath Ledger’s, not me—said, “If you’re good at something, never do it for free,” and sure, I’m more Batman—no cape yet—but that sticks with me. I’m not some money-grabbing monster; I just want it to feel worth the work. Picture me, tired at 2 a.m., muttering, “This better stop one kid from lighting dead grass.” If people like it, maybe we all win—or maybe I’m just talking to myself. Well the safety class will be free, just charging 9.99 for the "MASTER CLASS" who knows, maybe I am silly and just now ending up like all those online influencers that charge 199.99 for alpha male advice.

Funny thing: writing this feels good. I’m at work, pretending to write paper sales reports, but this is like a diary for a guy who thought bloggers were strange folks eating old snacks in the basement. Surprise—I’m old, bored, and just missing the old snacks. The TikTok-loving young pyros will see this long post and run—“Ain’t reading Grandpa’s rant!”—but I might keep going. It’s cheaper than a doctor, safer than lighting a quickmatch salute cake, and I can do it in my worn-out basketball shorts or while pretending to work. My boss just walked by, looking at me like, “Those paper sales reports done?” I smiled—“Oh, they’re cooking”—and he didn’t believe me. I mean I GUESS I should work.

But before I go! Back to young me: My Mom always freaked out every time I’d sneak off with a lighter and smashed tapped up piccolo petes. “You’ll burn the house down!” she’d shout, while I’d laugh like a gremlin. If I’d had an online class then—a little “I’m Safe and Sane” badge to show—maybe she’d have given me a lighter instead of a hiding all the lighters. Now I’m the one trying to save the next bunch of mini-pyros from their own dumb moves—funny how that works, huh? I once tried to “fix” a TNT fountain by taping extra sparklers to it. Got it going, burned a giant whole in my grass, spent the day hiding from my mom. Good times.

So, if you’ve made it through this giant post—bless your tough spirit and eyes—drop a comment. Site ideas? What you think of the Class/Course help? Should I complain about drones, write about Pyro Cat, or just roll with the crazy? I’m falling apart trying to make this thing, so pull me out of this wordy hole!