The joys of childhood- skipping, hopscotch, fishing, biking, and burning things. Not really pyromaniacal pursuits, just burning the trash in an old barrel by the alley- a household chore that was actually a good chance for "creative" play. The flames would dance, sparks would shoot skyward, and carcinogenic smoke would billow throughout the neighborhood. Using a little imagination, the conflagration became the Great Chicago Fire, or Vesuvius Eruptum. If some plastic got into the mix, well, green fire is nice, too. The twins who lived next door would scavenge leftover bits of copper wire from construction sites and burn the insulation off that as well.
By the time I was too too old for such games, the city had banned burning, doing the job themselves in large incinerators, presumably to reduce pollution, although proper exhaust gas scrubbing was to be years in the future. It is a miracle we all aren't dead from cancer already.