Fire!

The House has a gaslog fireplace. This is great for me. I love fire, to the point that I think my parents considered me mildly pyromaniacal. Anyway, it's probably a good thing that the house has a gaslog fireplace as opposed to a traditional fireplace.

When I was in high school, we rented a house that had a traditional fireplace. Every so often, we'd have a fire. Sometimes, when it rained, we'd close the flue, to keep the rain out. One time, though, we decided to start a fire after a few months of not having touched the fireplace, forgetting that the flue had been closed (we didn't close it often, just once in a while). Fortunately, we were all home, my mom, my sister, my best friend, and myself. Unfortunately, our brains weren't.

We needed kindling to start the fire. Usually, this consisted of newspaper, though I think in this instance, we may have used an old Pizza box. We had a couple smaller pieces of wood to catch fire after that, which, in turn, would start the firelogs. Everything went according to plan, except, well, that darn flue was open. We first determined something was amiss when we noticed the flames got much higher than normal. The second clue was when they started burning outside the fireplace. This was when the group lightbulb went off, and we all realized the flue was shut. Now, the stooges spring into action.

First things first - Mom starts trying to beckon the Lord to intervene, standing there repeating "Oh my God." Sister, in the meantime, determines that what you need to do is call 911, which she does, "There's a fire in our fireplace!" I, on the other hand, take decisive action and run immediately to - the smoke detector. I know that we are aware there's a fire that needs to be controlled, and what we don't need is an annoying beep reminding us. Then, because I know how to extinguish fires, I determine what we need next. Water. So I run into the kitchen and grab a glass of water. This I dart into the living room with and throw onto the flames, which laugh at my offering. My friend, though, catches on to my brilliant plan, and follows suit, though, being the competitive type, outdoes me by bringing in a bowl of water. We continue to run back and forth like Abbot and Costello, ultimately bringing the inferno under control, eventually with the help of Mom, who has figured out that a steady stream of water might be somewhat more effective, and has brought in the hose.

We survived the threat of a burning doom, thanks to the quick thinking - well, perhaps in spite of the thinking of four very calm and collected individuals.

Memories

I'm a native Michigander. I was born in Michigan, and lived there for several years. I still have family in Michigan, and, though it's been 7 years since my last visit, I still fondly remember the state.

When I was a child, we'd go and visit in June. This coincided with fish fly season. The fish flies would come in, cover everything, and die. When they died, they smelled like fish (hence the name). The fish flies are harmless, but there sure are a bunch of them. They're more of a nuisance than anything else, but fortunately they only stuck around a few days.

At least, they used to. Now, reports are saying that Fruit Flies are staying longer, from three to six weeks. And they're thicker, too. One anecdote in the Free Press Article I've linked above mentions a dockworker who slipped on a giant pile of fish flies and fell into the Clinton River (while not the River Rouge, still not the best body of water to fall into).

Sometimes I really miss Michigan.

A wonderful way to wake up

I woke up this morning at about 5:40 to two children fighting for ownership of a blankie. They fought briefly, I intervened, granting possession to the Apple. He then took the blankie and laid it over his sister, with whom he had been fighting. Such a grand gesture.

Then we got downstairs and started breakfast. Apple had cereal while Punkin and The Boy had yogurt. They had all just sat down to eat when Apple looked out at one of the cats, bent his arms up at the elbow, hands forward, and roared. He roared with gusto, exclaiming "I'm a dragon! Roar!" He had the biggest smile I had ever seen on a dragon.

Sometimes it's a blessing to have morning children.

Concussed

When I was eight years old, I had a bicycle. It was a nice, early 1980's style bicycle with a banana seat. One day, my friends and I were having races around Gingko Drive on McChord AFB. I went first, and got around fairly quickly. My friend went second, and he beat me. Not being one to like being beaten on my own bicycle, I went around a second time.

Things were going great. The sun was shining, just a couple clouds out, there was a slight tailwind, which helped me on the first leg, and I had managed to really get my bike around the first corner without losing much speed. I knew I had a chance at beating my friend, I just had to really nail the corners (he had bigger legs than I, so he could beat me on straightaways, I needed cornering speed to remain competitive). So as I came up to the second corner, I noticed a little dip on the side of the road where the sewer is slightly indented for the water to flow in. Now, I didn't know much about physics, still don't, but I knew that things tended to go faster around raised curves, and I knew that I could turn faster at a lower angle by using the dip in the street.

So that's what I aimed to do, and I hit the dip perfectly, I started my right turn, leaned my bike all the way down so that I could really use the centrifugal force, and I happened to notice that my right pedal was down, instead of my left. I thought to myself, "I should probably have my other pedal down, because my turn is so low, my pedal might hit the pavement." Actually, I didn't so much think that to myself as realize it about a nanosecond before it happened.

I don't remember how I got home. I don't, really, remember the visit to the doctor that day, but I do remember my parents having to ask me every two hours who I was and where I lived. I got the answers right.

Perhaps I should have started wearing a helmet after that.

Funny

We went out to eat today after going to the zoo. The kids had a great time at the zoo, though I got a little dehydrated, but that's beside the point. We went to Fuddrucker's - which has pretty darn good hamburgers - and ate there.

While we were eating, a family came in and sat down behind my wife and daughter - so I could see them, but wife and daughter couldn't. Anyway, there was a guy who sat down with a shirt that had some clever writing on it, which I thought I'd share with you verbatim:

Stupidity is not a crime. Your free to go.

Even if I had laughed out loud at it, I don't think they guy would have understood why.