NIMBY Mayor Adrien Fenty is not serving his constituency of gay DC residents who enjoy the occasional 40 and twice-annual home fireworks show. First came his ban on singles, which made Mr. Mayor very unpopular with our neighbors, Decatur Liquor, and lower income drunks all over Ward 4. Then came the secret gay marriage memo, which he promised to release but is not releasing, for some also secret reason.

But this is the worst and final straw: Fenty wants to ban fireworks in the District by the Fourth of July.

And a Washington Post editorial posits what is possibly history’s lamest argument ever against fireworks: a Maryland youngster set his pants on fire with a Sparkler last year.

Jesus Christ. Protect us from ourselves. This is what gives we liberals a bad name. I mean, trying to get guns off the street makes sense in a city where eight people were killed on one night. But beer and firecrackers alone are not weapons, and they are in fact how some grown-ups celebrate. Grown-ups like the residents of Fenty’s own neighborhood. People who, by and large, are not rich. It appears the Mayor would like our city to be a better place to live for people who don’t live here. Perhaps he’d like to fill it with Northern Virginians. Or maybe he’s caving to the pressures of the complaining elderly, but I’ve got news for Fenty: the elderly are going to complain.

These environs are a sight to behold on the Fourth, as every other house within miles, including mine, hosts its own display. Yes, it is loud, smoky, and if you are foolish enough to leave home you must run, ducking behind parked cars and shrubs, to avoid being hit with bottle rockets. But to me it’s everything the Fourth is supposed to be about: freedom, celebration, and explosives. Leave our toys alone, Mr. Fenty. This is AMERICA.