Uh-Oh

I was in my mid teens; almost old enough to drive, and it was summer. 

I was a friend's house, with another friend, when we decided we needed to barbecue some chicken one summer afternoon.  None of us had ever cooked anything on a grill, but it appeared something easily accomplished; after all, we'd seen our parents cook, so anyone could. 

Billy decided to be the official fire starter. It was his house, his father's grill and he was the "expert" by proxy, although I doubt his father had any idea what we were up to. We were already on his shit list for filling the new concrete ditch behind their house with pine needles and burning the huge pile. 

Ted, and I, watched as he carefully stacked the charcoal, poured some gasoline, allowed it to sit for a few minutes and throw a lit kitchen match on the pile. 

I know you're all thinking to yourself: "Gasoline should never be used to start charcoal." This is true, but who were we to question the "expert"? We were just as clueless. 

Due to the volatile nature of gasoline, and the little time to allow it to soak into the charcoal, the fire was out in a few minutes, which left only edges showing any signs of becoming hot. 

Ted and I weren't paying much attention, but Billy was determined to have the best charcoals ever. So... while we weren't paying attention... he poured more gasoline on the charcoal. 

The huge cloud of white fumes caught both Ted's and my attention immediately. Before we could remark about what we were seeing, Billy approached in the cloud, with a box of kitchen matches in his hand. 

"BILLY!!!"

Before Ted's and my warning could reach Billy, he struck a match.

"WHUMPH"

A huge fireball enveloped Billy and ended as soon as it began. 

I know you're thinking "Oh my God. It must have been horrible."

Billy was standing there, dumbfounded, with a shit eating grin on his face. His eyebrows were gone and his hair was singed. 

Within seconds, he started laughing, which brought our laughter, too, although ours more from relief. 

Close examination revealed smooth skin above his eyes, some redness to his face and substantial curly, singed hairs on his head. Other than that, he wasn't injured and we could only wonder how he escaped without terrible injuries. 

The fire was soon out; with the coals still not doing much of anything. This prompted us to change our plans. 

As my mind worked, I realized Billy's father would be home for work in a short time, which prompted me to remember something "important" I needed to do immediately. Ted, too, remembered something important, so we left. 

Billy never told me whether there were any repercussions for our cooking efforts; and I never asked. 

Some things you're never supposed to know. 

Have You Ever Seen Such a Mess?

If you read the news reports, the push for the U.S. military to intervene in the Syrian civil war is founded on a theoretical red line drawn by President Obama, which he now says he didn't draw.

Secretary of State, Kerry, says there's a backing by allies to pursue this warfare, although he must be hiding some in his back pocket, because our usual allies are sitting this one out.

He's also saying the Arabs will finance the entire cost of the invasion. Of course, "Arabs" live on a big chunk of real estate, have more than one form of government and Kerry could be more specific. Also, what do they want in return? Don't try the "humanitarian" line of bullshit. Look at how they treat their own citizens and you'll see it's all crap.

A Senate committee has given the green light to pursue legislation to start the conflict, which doesn't say much. Committees generally only hold up legislation, or fart out useless legislation like the flatulence from a constipated pig. To add insult to injury, this committee threw all the Senate rules in the toilet and don't seem to give a damn about what their colleagues think of the mess.

Even the most liberal slanted polls show an overwhelming "no" to question of whether we should intervene in Syria. In reference to government duties, that means "no", which should end the discussion immediately.

Meanwhile, we're still being spied upon, Obamacare is destroying jobs, the value of money is decreasing, Eric Holder is suing states because he doesn't like their politics, Hillary Clinton is still not being taken to task for Benghazi and her husband has been proven to not be a Vegan, which means he's a liar.

Yep, it's a mess and the media is reporting only what they're told to report, when they're not waving pom-poms and doing cheers for their chosen hero.

All Tattered and Torn

I had some supplies to pick up at an industrial supply house this evening, which is in the far end of my home town. I took the short-cut I knew, to save some time and avoid the evening traffic from the local refineries.

My route led me through downtown...or what was once downtown. Little was left, except the numerous empty buildings; a testament to days long gone; boarded window, decay and the memories of those left to remember.

I tried to look for landmarks, but found few. The old businesses were long gone; not even a sign to show where they were. The banks - once majestic, with the names carved into the marble - were as empty and desolate as the rest of what once was a thriving center of commerce.

I picked up my supplies and decided to take a drive through town.

As I drove, I examined the same streets once part of times long gone. Neat, trimmed lawns were few to be found, unlike when I was young. Grass grew over the curbs of streets in need of repair. Houses, once fresh painted,  were now empty, or long worn and neglected. Closed businesses marked where too many succumbed to age, quit trying or moved on.

Memories swarmed and filled the emptiness I was feeling. Instead of the decay, I was seeing the past, when the cicadas buzzed in the lazy summer evenings. Children played, while fathers cut the yard. People waved, smiled and you knew you were safe if were to walk down any street. As quick as they came, the memories soon disappeared. Unhappy thoughts soon filled my mind.

The more I drove, the darker my thoughts. It was as though something precious was stolen; the thieves cloaked in politics and corruption; my hometown stricken with disease, dying a slow death and would eventually be nothing but long stretches of desolation and despair.

I pushed the thoughts aside and headed for a grocery store to buy a few items I needed. As I pulled into the parking lot, the radio played:

"Rainy days, dream away
Let the sun take a holiday."

I looked to the north and saw the deep blue line of approaching thunderstorms. Rain was coming, and I needed to hurry.

As I stepped from my truck, the hot wind swirled the smell of hot asphalt, with fresh cut grass and I was returned to my youth. Memories swirled once again and I decided I would gather them close and hold them as long as they would last.

Some Ranting for Tuesday

I might be wrong, but from my vantage point, when Democrats are in charge, the good military people get shuffled out of the way or retire. This leaves what we know have.

Syria is mess, it's apparent our President is more than green and the military leaders now in charge are probably nothing but "yes" men; loyal to their career, instead of what's important.

Meanwhile, Congress is feckless, wants to talk about something that needs no conversation and refuses to believe that the majority of the people in this country have had a neck-full of the political horseshit that's been the earmark of this administration.

Here is the answer: No, we don't go to war with Syria.

If you wanted to change leaders, you should have strapped some C-4 to John Kerry, when he had dinner with Assad. Two problems would have been solved with on little switch.

No Air Conditioning for You

Some Texas guards and inmates want air conditioning. They say it's dangerous to be exposed to the heat and it's inhumane.

Here's a reality check: I work all day in the heat and I pay for the prison system. So, they can all go suck eggs. I don't have air conditioning; they don't have air conditioning. It's that simple.