Inhuman Swill : Fire
            

We had no idea that what we were really doing was a cover shoot for my memoir.

It was the late summer of 1987. I was stationed with my assigned mission companion, Elder Tim Bishop, in Bonners Ferry, Idaho. We lived rent-free in a small house owned by a local Mormon farming family. The house was a couple of miles outside of town, in the middle of a vast swath of wheat fields. The Kootenai River meandered nearby. Occasionally a moose would wander by or a bald eagle would sail overhead.

I'd been there since May, so I'd gotten to watch much of the growing and harvest process. At the end of the season, the farmers let us know that they would soon be burning the stubble of one of the fields, which would lie fallow the next year.

Even with advance warning, it was quite a shock when Bish and I, returning home in the late afternoon from a day of whatever missionaries do to occupy their time, spotted the smoke rising in the distance. Driving up the dirt road between the burning fields was a surreal experience, even with the greatest part of the fires having died down. It was so surreal, in fact, that we did exactly what you would expect from bored 19- or 20-year-old kids.

Full entry

Microwaves ruin everything

| No Comments
            

The wonderful video below reminds me of a good story about a microwave oven. Two microwave ovens, actually. But watch the video first, before I tell it. Don't worry, I'll wait.

Wasn't that awesome? Especially the metal stuff. I used to have a girlfriend who would put metal in the microwave all the time. Spoons, aluminum foil, whatever—she wouldn't bother to remove any of it before nuking her food. I'd tell her that was a bad idea, a dangerous idea, but we had the kind of relationship where anything I said was considered silly and untrue just by virtue of my having said it, no matter that it was easily verifiable by checking with any other human being on the planet.

This was 1998. We lived together, and eventually the very bad breakup that had been coming for a very long time was upon us. Our microwave over was very old and very primitive, and my soon-to-be ex-girlfriend had at last saved enough money to buy the kind of very advanced, fancy new microwave she'd been dreaming of for a very long time. She didn't even take it out of the box when she bought it. It was going to be a housewarming gift to herself in her new apartment in her new city, and she was graciously leaving the old crappy microwave behind for me.

Full entry
            

Nothing gets the ol' blood pumpin' like the strong smell of smoke.

Laura and I had just watched 13 Going on 30—the credits were still rolling—when suddenly I bolted to my feet. "Do you smell that?" I said.

"Yes," said Laura.

My pulse had sped up to about 200 beats a minute. We raced from one end of the apartment to the other, sniffing. Laura went downstairs into the basement to check things out—our downstairs neighbor has already moved out of the house—while Ella and I ventured out front, out back, around the side of the house, and ultimately to the apartment upstairs. I had the cordless phone in my shaky hand, ready to dial 911 at the first sign of flame. Nothing. But we could still smell smoke strongly in our living room, and I could smell it as well outside in the passage at the between our house and the next, near our living room window.

Full entry
The Accidental Terrorist 30th Anniversary Sale

Signed editions
that even a
missionary
could afford.

Order yours now!

William Shunn

About This Archive

This page is an archive of recent entries in the Fire category.

Finance is the previous category.

Fish is the next category.

Find recent content on the main index or look in the archives to find all content.

Archives