Friday, November 12, 2010

Hot Fun

When Donna and I lived in Virginia Beach we used to take walks along the Bay on the beach. It was pretty laid back in those days; dogs and kids were everywhere. There were some beautiful homes along the beach, but no private sand. All the houses had backyards which were dunes and high grass, then sloped down to the beach. The beach was public property, so for those like us who lived across the street, it was pretty close to having our own beachfront.

I remember a Black Lab who probably lived in one of the waterfront houses who would follow people strolling on the beach, smiling and offering a stick to throw. We found this delightful, such a friendly dog, and would toss the stick for him to fetch until we got bored with the game. When we stopped throwing, the dog would take the stick in his mouth, look at us for a while, then trot off to find another playmate to throw it for him.

Now I have 2Spot, an 11 month old Black Lab. When I wake up in the morning he is delighted and excited, partly because I feed him as soon as I get up, and partly in the hope that I will throw a toy for him to fetch. As soon as my feet are on the floor he brings me something to throw: he's ready for the day to begin. If I was willing, we could play fetch all day, he's that single minded. Easy to see why people train these dogs to hunt. It's all they want to do: bring you things.

Yesterday, finally, Kenny started moving stuff from the office here in the house to his newly completed office in the back of the garage. I had a pile of boxes in the yard, from the new TV and other things, along with a bunch of construction debris from the new office. While Kenny and Julie moved furniture, I piled the trash in the yard into the fire pit and lit it up. It went well in spite of the recent rain, mainly because there was a bunch of tar paper in the pile, which makes excellent kindling, even when wet.

Soon the fire was blazing away, and I nurtured it carefully, putting wet cardboard on the sides and slowly moving it into the center as it dried. As Kenny cleaned out the office he left more and more stuff to go on the fire: audio and video cassettes, a plastic audio cassette cabinet, old vacuum cleaner parts, papers and boxes. The plastic burned long and very hot, allowing me to put practically anything on the fire with the assurance that the burning plastic would dry it out and it would eventually burn.

In the office there was a frame, about 8'x8', made of 2x6 pine and covered with plywood, once destined to become a Murphy bed but never completed. Kenny and I carried that out and put it on the fire as well. At Kenny's suggestion, we took the old Mitsubishi rear-projection TV, which I had rolled into the office when it ceased to work, out the door and onto the fire. The TV was big, about 5' high, 5' wide, and 18" deep.

It went on top of the Murphy bed frame, and when it caught fire burned with an intensity that made us both a little nervous. We hauled out the garden hose and beat the flames down a bit. I hosed off a trailer on the other side of the fence to keep it from combusting; the trailer steamed as I played water on it.

The Mitsubishi, the Murphy bed, some fiberglass insulation, carpet scraps, audio and video cassettes, assorted other household trash, things one would normally not think to burn, were reduced to a pile of smoldering ash. It was Brightwood fun at its best.

Today I put a coat of Kilz primer on the ceiling in the office, which will now become my studio/den. With all that office junk out of there I now see what a nice (and big) room it is, with a great picture window and sliding doors overlooking the creek. The wood stove is in there too, and I look forward to cozy days and nights this winter with a wood fire, wine, and a good Kindle book to read.

As Kenny and I watched the Mitsubishi fire he said he likes to burn just about everything he can get his hands on, and how useless old photos were and that they should be burned. "All the people in them are dead; nobody cares about that shit." At that point it would not have surprised me if he started throwing books on the fire. Just a little more insight into Kenny's personality, or lack thereof.

I was slightly uncomfortable in his presence, not because he intimidates me, as he does some people, but because of a sad feeling of emptiness which seems to surround him. He presents himself as unsentimental, cold and self-serving. I don't think it's an act.

He hates the mountain. He left here when he was old enough and never came back. If it wasn't for his interest in the Tavern he would not come up here at all. It's no wonder few people seem to actually like the guy, even his own brother Ron, who is his polar opposite, a down-to-earth nice guy who likes it here and is a friend to all.

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