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Fireworks are what make me American

By Lance Madden

Call me materialistic. Call me a kid. Call me a pyrotechnic-loving, easily amused, aesthetically pleased individual. Just don't call me unpatriotic. If the saying is true that nostalgia is a warm bath, I become more prune-like each time there's a shower of fireworks above me.

No time for commercials

By Justyn Dillingham

When I was a kid, commercials seemed just as vivid and interesting as any of the shows they surrounded. Whether they were for toy cars, toy dinosaurs, toy guns or sugar-stained breakfast cereals (or, as I like to call them, "toy food"), commercials on late '80s kids' television were loud, brash, noisy and rather fun, just like the products they advertised.

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