Rhoades Less Traveled:

Fourth of July when I was a kid meant fencing with sparklers.

It meant firecracker circles. What in the heck is a firecracker circle, you ask? Simple: A handful of boys sits in a circle on my side yard — out of the view of my parents — and lights a firecracker, which is then tossed from boy to boy until it explodes on an unfortunate soul.

It meant dusting off an old, pint-sized barn, jamming toy soldiers and fireworks in there, dousing the whole work-up with dad’s gasoline, creating a 15-foot or so trail of gas to the barn, setting it ablaze and watching the fire race to the barn and the ensuing conflagration and mayhem.

Don’t blame me; it was the 1970s. Following the assassinations and war of the 1960s, the country lost its collective mind for a decade.

How else to explain butterfly collars and disco?

Or, for that matter, Jimmy Carter?

Fourth of July and the term “safe and sane” were not — integrated, anyway — part of our vernacular.

In fact, the Fourth of July could more accurately be termed downright unsafe and insane.

It’s sheer luck that none of us ever lost a finger, got disfigured or burned down a house.

Well, the times they are a-changin’.

Every Fourth of July, the debate rages in the handful of Orange County cities that still sell fireworks whether the practice should continue or be scrapped.

It was scrapped in Newport Beach.

In Costa Mesa, they still sell safe-and-sane fireworks, which raises money for countless causes.

So the debate centers on this question: Do you forbid the sale of fireworks in the name of safety, thereby robbing charities of a crucial fundraising tool?

I think that while Newport Beach’s approach is a bit, well, draconian, Costa Mesa has come up with a policy that passes the reasonable man’s test.

Allow for safe-and-sane fireworks, but prohibit them from being torched up in public parks, on school property and in public parking lots.

In other words, maximize safety while allowing for organizations to raise badly needed money for their causes.

The one part I don’t get is that sparklers are forbidden. When I was a kid, sparklers were about as innocuous as it got when compared with skyrockets, Piccolo Petes and cherry bombs.

But I guess kids will be kids, whether it’s the 1970s or the 21st century.

And fencing with fire — oh, the piracy of those battles — isn’t exactly a Phi Beta Kappa move.

BRADY RHOADES is the Daily Pilot’s editor. He may be reached at brady.rhoades@latimes.com or at (714) 966-4607.