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Pastimes : Don't Ask Rambi -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Gauguin who wrote (13851)	10/22/1998 3:42:00 PM
From: Justin C	Read Replies (2) \| Respond to of 71178

I was witness to a similar fire in a pickup truck. I was entering the small town of Fayetteville, TX, and spotted a pickup approaching me a block or two away near the town square. In the cab was a young couple, and in the rear was the silhouette of their household possessions in a cloud of smoke. Townfolk were running into the street toward them and yelling and gesturing wildly. As I pulled up abreast of them, the couple was stopped and a fellow was pointing directions to the nearby fire station. Naturally I had to stop and observe the end of this story. It likely will be the only time I will ever see the fire come to the fire station. The fire-carrying pickup roared up to the station, and the driver jumped out and pounded on the closed door of the one-truck station. Finally the on-duty fireman emerged rubbing his eyes, apparently having been awakened from a nap. In what seemed like an interminable length of time, he raised the large door, rolled out the pumper truck and extinguished what had become a roaring blaze. The culprit was a portable barbecue pit with live embers that had been placed in the bottom of the pickup bed. (Actually I don't think we say "embers" in Texas. Probably "hot coals" or something like that.) News of the little disaster travelled quickly. What appeared to be most of the town's population soon arrived, turning the event into an impromptu social occasion.

To: Gauguin who wrote (13851)	10/22/1998 7:06:00 PM
From: Rambi	Read Replies (2) \| Respond to of 71178

Great story! I'm just catching up on the last two days- you know, when you're not involved in the posting, you can tell we're all very strange people with odd thought processes around here, and either very peculiar lives or a very peculiar way of looking at a normal life. It makes me proud. Somehow trying to do option trading in this market has taken away my sense of humor. I seem to be very tired at night. Last night I threw a temper tantrum and refused to drive into Dallas for a choir practice. Like anybody really cared. They just stared at me, probably wishing I'd go, I'm sure. But I didn't. I carried on and whined and the phone rang and Dan answered it. I hate hearing this kind of conversation. "Where are you? Are you ok? Where is that? We'll come get you?" I'm grabbing Dan's arm and hissing, "What! What! What!" "We have to go get CW. He got his car stuck." "WHere?" "I'm not sure. He wasn't a paragon of clarity. He kept saying,'I'm using someone's cellphone. I can't talk. Just come get me." "But where is he?" "I don't know. He never told me." Luckily Southlake is not that large and I knew he was at Swing Dancing. DOn't ask why-he decided to take swing dance lessons a couple of weeks ago. He said it sounded like fun. I knew they were at a school. We finally found him at an elementary school. Around back. Stuck in two feet of mud. In the middle of a field. Why did he drive into the middle of a muddy field in his brand new car? This is after all, a science fair winner, a national merit semifinalist, a computer genius. He wasn't even facing in the direction of the road. We asked. Because another guy in a jeep did it so he thought he could. He has a very small Nissan 200sx. We don't know how he made it 60 feet into the field before he was up past his hubcaps. Why even argue. The custodian was there. It was his cell phone. He and Dan tried to push the car out. Dan was in his work clothes still. Do you know what happens to you when you're pushing a car out of mud and it's spinning its wheels??? It didn't work. We finally had to call a tow truck. That took another hour. The good ol boy who hauled him out thought it was all very funny and regaled us of tales from his youth. We made CW pay him. So much for a quiet evening at home---we can't remember the last one-tonight there's a soccer game. Tomorrow a football game, Saturday a swim meet. We were irritated. But you know, this weekend a classmate of CW's, a nice kid, fell asleep at the wheel and ran into a pole and he died yesterday. So I called CW after he'd slunk off to the poolhouse and said, "You know, I'm really glad the only thing that got messed up tonight was your car." "I'm really sorry," he said. It's ok. We're just glad you're all right." "Does that mean I don't have to pay for the towtruck?" "No. And we still expect you to clean your father's shoes, too.But we love you. Goodnight."