Technically, the giant fire truck pulling up to my house this morning all started with my brother’s wife in Boise. She is one awesome lady. She is an awesome cook too, growing her own vegetables, canning fruit and jams, and even making her own sausage.  I have already tasted some of the jams and stuff she sent for Christmas, but put off until today the summer sausage she sent. I knew it would be good, and as free as possible of preservatives and other nasty stuff.

So, I decided to fry up some eggs, over easy, along with the sausage. As I was cooking the sausage, I decided to make more coffee. That meant I had to put more water in the teakettle, and clean out the french press. Being a man, I only know two settings on the stove – full on or full off. Naturally, it was full on. I turned back to the stove when the smoke alarm went off. Not a tiny little battery operated smoke alarm either – but a Brinks smoke alarm. The Whooop! Whoooop! Whoooping alarm.

Our four cats were in the dining area, and all four leaped straight into the air, then without even landing, blasted off into the bedroom, their 16 legs moving in a total blur like little air propellers. I fought my way through the smoke to the front door where the alarm panel is located, entered the secret code and stabbed the cancel button. Then remembered I hadn’t taken the sausage off the stove yet…..smoke poured out of the kitchen in waves.

My wife entered the room and just stood perfectly still, knowing that in these emergencies males in my family have a habit of moving very erratically and quickly. It is best to stand clear.

I raced back into the kitchen just as the Whoop! Whoop! Whooping began again! I turned off the stove and removed the sausage while opening the kitchen window, turning on all the ceiling fans and the central AC, flinging open the patio french doors while screaming at my wife to go hit the cancel button again.

The phone rang.

Have I mentioned that I have Comtrash Cable? Including their cable phone service? Two of the three phones don’t work well. I naturally picked up the one that didn’t work. I can hear them, but apparently, they can’t hear me. I’m screaming into the phone, while the whooping starts again. I unplug that particular phone and …..well, let’s just say there is no doubt now that it is broke. I think some of the pieces are still in the neighbor’s yard. Give my wife credit, she ducked long before I flung it out the patio. Smart lady. I don’t know why she was laughing though…..

I take off at warp factor 8 to the bedroom, which I think has a phone that works, because it is ringing again. Cats go scattering. After banging off the walls of the hall and tripping over the Christmas tree I make it just as it stops ringing.

My cell phone starts ringing. That is the second phone Brinks is supposed to call if they can’t reach me on the house phone. Where the hell is the cell phone??? The living room I think. The smoke is too thick to find it.  When I do, the call is missed.

My wife takes the phone to try calling back the number while I run to the alarm panel again, as the freaking whooping has started again!!! What the hell?!!!

As my wife is on my cell phone, someone tries to call. We miss it. Neither of us have figured out how to accept an incoming cell phone call while on the cell phone.

Eventually, most of the smoke clears out of the house, the whooping stops, except for the echo in my head, and my wife sits down to call Brinks on my cell phone to find out why the stupid cancel button didn’t work. She gets placed on hold.

I sit down, exhausted, spent like a bad nickel, thankful that the excitement is finally over.

That is when I hear the sirens and the rumble of a giant fire truck.

I look at my wife. She looks at me. She starts laughing. I rummage around for something sharp to stab the side of my head. Unfortunately, the giant red fire truck, siren blaring, pulls up in front just then. Three firemen in full fire battling gear and axes, storm toward my front door. I race outside, still in my pajama bottoms, waving my arms about and shouting “Sausage, it is just burnt sausages!!!”

Every door in the neighborhood opens and people stare out. First at the giant truck, then at my pajamas, as I finally convince the three fire fighters that they really don’t need to smash my door in with those huge axes. They seemed really disappointed, but eventually take my name and reluctantly go away.

As I enter the house I have both the whooping alarm and the fire engine siren still echoing inside my head. Plus the horror of creating a scene in the neighborhood, not to mention displaying my sleeping attire to the neighbors!

My wife is laughing so hard she gets pains in her side.

I sit down, numb and dazed and in shock. My wife finally got through to Brinks, who confirmed that in the case of fire alarms, the cancel doesn’t work, especially if they can’t reach anyone at the first two phone numbers. And….when they do reach the person at the third number that person tells them to send the fire department out.

Third number? Who is the third contact????

Oh crap! One of my friends. He is at work, and his wife should be getting ready to go . . .I call her. Yep, she tried calling my cell phone when we were on it with Brinks. They called her, and she told them to send the fire department, and she was dressed and just getting ready to run out the door to come over and save our four cats from the fire.

That is how the 365th day of 2008 started for me.

By the way, the sausage was absolutely fantastic. A tad burned but otherwise great.

SCG

Dropped a relative off at Fort Lauderdale airport to return to the snow and ice of New York. Took my camera along to see if I could find some interesting sights. Surprisingly, I wasn’t arrested by TSA or anyone else.  Click  the thumbnails to see the gallery.

SCG

OK, here is something that is getting me ticked off.  This is another example of our society trying to be Mother to us all, protecting us from all sort of evil and problems in life, instead of letting us learn and grow into responsible men and women. This story from Britain shows how this trend is attempting to teach little boys to be wusses.

It seems that people in England are buying more decorative, and heavy, toilet seats.  Small little UK boys when they first learn to go to the bathroom on their own, are learning a valuable life lesson. Something I call “Protect the Potato”. When they go to take a leak, they push the toilet seat up, and no doubt their UK moms have decorative and stylist toilet seat covers which often cause the toilet seat to fall back down. And here is the valuable life lesson, one that goes a long ways toward making men out of boys. When the seat falls down, the little boy has to yank his manhood out of the way quickly or he will get it whacked hard by the seat. Either way, he learns to “Protect the Potato.”A lesson that will no doubt benefit him for the rest of his life as he faces all the problems and situations that life will toss his way.

And if he doesn’t move fast enough, he gets whacked and learns the lesson faster. And becomes tougher and more manly.

Except in the UK, which is working diligently to create more wusses than it knows what to do with. There, research studies have seen an alarming increase in smacked cucumbers. So, instead of reporting on  the life lessons learned and the progress little boys make to become big men, they are calling for the ban of heavy toilet seats and installation of “soft fall” toilet seats. No doubt, next will be Bruised Weenie support groups, where UK wusses can sit in circles and whine about their bruised weenies, and probably learn to knit potato covers.

I myself have experienced that right of passage.  Yes, I’ve had my cucumber smacked by a toilet seat. In fact, more than once. Let me tell you, it is something I would not wish on my worst enemy. There I was, standing in the bathroom, looking around, day dreaming, waiting for nature to take it’s course, when Whack!!! My potato gets smacked by a falling toilet seat! Ouch!!! Double Ouch!!!

But, being an American, and not a British Wuss, I learned a valuable life lesson, one that made me tougher and more manly. I also learned to rip that stupid fuzzy toilet seat cover my wife puts on the toilet seat and toss it out the bathroom window!

[Insert man yell here]

Be at peace.

SCG

Howdy folks. I hope that your Christmas was good. Next up is New Year’s Eve/Day.  But after that we have a long gap without any significant holidays. Yes, we have Easter, but that is more of a religious holiday. Not too many Easter parties occur. And then there isn’t much until Halloween!

Fourth of July is just annoying.

I propose two new holidays. Each must provide the following:

1. At least two days off work
2. Parties.
3. Lots of food. Especially pies.
4. Football

I propose that these new major holidays be strategically placed in May and August.

Granted, it might be difficult to get football games in May, but I’m sure we could figure something out.

Oh yeah, did I mention that pies would be involved?

Yeah, we need pie.

SCG