111 lines
6.4 KiB
Plaintext
111 lines
6.4 KiB
Plaintext
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I hate to admit it, but this happened to me way back in 1980--
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A few years after graduating from college, I returned to my folks home to
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retrieve a considerable number of storage boxes that I had left with them.
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These boxes were filled with books, course notes, old homework projects, etc
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that I had kept. I decided to weed throught them and eliminate as much junk as
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I could.
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Not having the heart to dump all that hard work into the garbage, I decided to
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grab a six-pack, settle down in front of the downstairs fireplace and
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ceremoniously burn four years worth of college memorabilia. I managed to get
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through about five of the 15 or so boxes piled around me when I realized I
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could not possibly sort through each box page-by-page. In the interest of
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time, I decided to do a cursory scan of the contents to determine if anything
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'jumped out' as worth saving. Well, box number six appeared to be loaded with
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Psychology and Logic 101 junk so I took the short cut and tossed the whole box
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on the funeral pyre before me.
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I popped open beer number four and watched the box smolder. Raising the can, I
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gave one last salute to those two unmemorable courses as the box erupted into a
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roaring inferno.
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The papers were consumed rapidly.
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So were the ancient contents of the dresser drawer that I had hastily dropped
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into the bottom of that box when packing two years earlier. Dang, I had
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forgotten all about that stuff. The toothbrush and hairbrush went up rather
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well.....also that packet of disposable plastic razors, dental floss and
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contact lense case and a bunch of junk I don't even remember. Of course, I
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didn't even know that stuff was going up in smoke as I sat there. Just chugged
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the beer and watched. It burned great...right down to that full can of
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deodorant that was in there with it all.
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I had gotten about half the beer down when that deodorant can finally decided
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it had had enough. What happened next I can only compare to the scene from
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"2001" where that Dave Bowman guy is falling through all those lights with that
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'o shit' look on his face. I heard a BOOM so loud that my brain only
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registered it as a high-pitched squeal. The contents of the fireplace right
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down to the last ash were propelled out with such velocity that all I could see
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were a multitude of bright streaks emanating from a point about three feet in
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front of me (ala 2001). Big blue shock wave knocked me back. Spill the beer?
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You bet. Caught me off guard? Hell yes. Felt like I jumped on a live
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grenade? Guess so. One second I was watching that inferno burn from the
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outside, the next second I was watching it from the inside.
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The human brain reverts to 'primordial slime' mode when thrown into a situation
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like this. All higher-order functions vaporize. Guess it's all those
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endorphines and endomorphines hitting it at once. It took a couple of seconds
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to get the 'reasoning' capability of my brain back online. I jumped up, looked
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at my hands and feet, touched my face and realized that I was indeed intact.
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Holy Cow, I was completely untouched. Not even a soot mark on me. Although I
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might possibly qualify as a human cannon ball, there would be no Richard Pryor
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imitation tonight, folks.
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I looked throught the thick smoke toward the fireplace. What WAS a 6-inch deep
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accumulation of one winter's ashes was now squeaky clean. Blasted it right
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out. All those burning embers were now sitting on the deep-pile carpet behind
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me. ALL over the room. I grabbed the little shovel from the fireplace set and
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scooped as fast as I could. As soon as I filled the shovel, I'd run to the
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fireplace, empty it and run back. Some embers were 30 feet down the hall. I
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guess I set the Guiness World Record for "Hot ember pickup with a little
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shovel" in those next few minutes. I did manage to avoid setting my folks house
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on fire, and the carpet only had one or two real serious melted spots on it. I
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DID find the deodorant can too- it had left the fireplace at some ungodly
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serious velocity, hit the wall at the far end of the room and come to rest
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directly behind where I was sitting. Dang thing was split wide open along the
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weld and peeled back almost flat. Burned black, too. Looked like re-entry
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junk.
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After I got the Fire Marshal Bill stuff under control, I grabbed beer number
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five, popped the top and thought about how I was gonna get the remaining mess
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cleaned up. Close examination revealed that everything was coated with a heavy
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layer of ash. Heck, a vacuum cleaner will get this stuff up no problem.
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Gee, how lucky could I be? I didn't get decapitated, the house is still on its
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foundation, I got a GREAT story for the grandkids and the cleanup is gonna be a
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cinch. I grabbed my mom's upright out of the closet and started to work.
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Ever have one of those split-seconds of consciousness when you realize you
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survived something really bad but you sense that it's not quite over yet? Well,
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I never have, but I wish I had felt that way at this point. Would have clued
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me in as to what was about to happen.
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There I was, sucking up ashes with an upright vacuum. Too bad not all of them
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were cold. That upright vacuum swallowed ONE LITTLE ITTY BITTY HOT EMBER that
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was sitting there on the carpet. It flew right up inside it and sat on that
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big ol' pile of carpet lint way up in that bag. Heck, that bag hadn't been
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emptied in a long time. And all that air rushing in there made that little
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bitty hot ember REAL happy. Next thing I know, the side of that vacuum is
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glowing red hot. By the time I figured out what was happening, there was a two
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foot flame blowing out a hole in the side. It really looked and sounded sorta
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pretty, like a fighter jet on full afterburner. Diamond shock pattern and all.
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Again, my brain reverted to primordial slime mode. All higher-order functions
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ceased and all I remember thinking was "T-h-r-o-w v-a-c-u-u-m".
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I pitched it as hard as I could towards the open basement door, hoping it would
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make it to the patio outside. The distance was about 20 feet. In slowmotion
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it looked like one of those old NASA films where the rocket goes psycho right
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off the launch pad. There it was, sailing brush end first with a nice slow
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roll...fire belching out the side. As the unbilical pulled out of the wall,
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the flame settled into a long trail of sparks. The vehicle had plenty of
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initial velocity and it looked like a good downrange trajectory........right up
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to the point it passed throught the plate glass window to the right side of the
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door.
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Yep, I swear this happened as written.
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