KIDS THESE DAYS:

All it took for Newport Beach and Costa Mesa to enjoy a very quiet Fourth of July was a little extra dough to provide a greater presence by the authorities and to spread the word that the fireworks laws would be strictly enforced.

It worked, and the residents of both cities proved that the answer to funding so many worthwhile youth programs is not to punish the 99.99% of the law-abiding citizens in Newport-Mesa, but to crack down on the tiny number who insist on breaking the rules each year.

That has been the position here for years.

If you have opposed the sale of fireworks in Costa Mesa, you should be big enough today to say, “I was wrong.”

The police and fire departments of both cities deserve our thanks.

It was so quiet in Costa Mesa that there were just eight calls to the fire department in eight hours. One of those was a response to a fire that began in a trash can that contained fireworks that had not been completely extinguished.

That trash can fire wound up catching fire to parts of two homes but was extinguished before any extensive damage occurred.

There was another trash can fire, but it did not spread beyond the trash can, and the fire department was not called.

I am aware of the details of this fire because it happened on our block and was caused by a knucklehead who is giving the pro-fireworks cause a bad name.

The fireworks show on the block ended just before 10 p.m. As he was picking up spent fireworks, this lazy fool felt a couple of them that were still warm. But instead of dousing them with water as he has done every year for 20 years, he just threw them in the large plastic trash can.

Then, tired from a long day, he went inside to watch a movie, confident that his backup preventive measure of leaving the trash can far away from anything combustible would cover him in the small chance of a fire.

About an hour later, his daughter came running into his bedroom and yelled, “The trash can is on fire!”

This half-awake yahoo got up and ran outside, only to find his 15-year-old son soaking the melted but still smoking trash can with water. The son had been alerted to the fire by a neighbor.

Seeing the progress of the boy, the water and the trash can, he did what any self-respecting reveler would do. He said, “Good job,” and went to bed.

Around 1 a.m., he awoke and went outside to get the trash can off the street so it wouldn’t become a tourist attraction. Thanks to the water that put out the flame, the trash can was so heavy he couldn’t lift it. So he got a small hand truck out of the garage and moved it to the side of his house.

There it sits, and there it will sit until he figures out a way to get rid of the heavy, smelly blob of plastic.

I promise that next year, and each year after, I will follow my old protocol and soak the trash can before I retire.

And for those of you who were wondering, the fire was my boneheaded play and I will pay for the new trash can.

The trash can fire does not change my opinion on fireworks.

I skipped one step, the dousing, but took another, placing the trash can where it could not cause any damage if it caught fire, and that worked.

This year, two cities proved its citizens can handle fireworks responsibly and that youth programs can benefit.

I dodged a bullet this year but learned a very good lesson.

Next year, however, I’m going to find an oil drum.

STEVE SMITH is a Costa Mesa resident and a freelance writer. Send story ideas to [email protected].