As I was disassembling something yesterday, I had to reflect upon the fact that "disassembly" is such a wonderful concept. "Assembly" implies hours of tedium with a screwdriver, an adjustable wrench, and 23 pages of instructions written in 45 different languages. But "disassembly" is something one can do with a sledgehammer. It is simple but terribly gratifying.
So I was disassembling a chest of drawers from our basement with my sledgehammer out in the yard. I then burned the disassembled components in an old steel barrel. I live in an area where there is extremely lax enforcement of any ordinances which might exist. Nobody really seems to know or care whether I am even supposed to have a burning barrel.
When I first moved in, I was going to burn a large pile of brush I accumulated from trimming all of the hedges. I asked one of my neighbors, the guy who lives next to my pet cemetary, "what is the protocol for obtaining a burning permit?" I could tell by his perplexed look that he hadn't understood my question, so I rephrased, "I'd like to burn this pile of brush, whom should I call?" Again, confusion. I pointed to the brush, "I'm going to light this on fire." Finally he said, "Oh, do you need some matches?"
Since that time, I've adopted the local customs and I burn whatever I want whenever I want. So, I was out in the backyard burning the disassembled pieces from a chest of drawers. The fire was just roaring when, all of a sudden, something shot out of the barrel skyward into a tree 30 feet away. Then, it happened again?! After ducking for cover, I emerged to try to figure out what I was launching all over the neighborhood. There were pieces of metal, formerly hinges and such, that had somehow reformulated themselves as flying projectiles. I'm not sure exactly how it happened, but I did have to pause to consider, "Wouldn't I feel like an idiot if one of those had hit me or someone else?" There ought to be a law.
Incidentally, the ife-way has esumed-ray eading-ray the ustyblog-ray. Ixnay on the aphne-day.
So I was disassembling a chest of drawers from our basement with my sledgehammer out in the yard. I then burned the disassembled components in an old steel barrel. I live in an area where there is extremely lax enforcement of any ordinances which might exist. Nobody really seems to know or care whether I am even supposed to have a burning barrel.
When I first moved in, I was going to burn a large pile of brush I accumulated from trimming all of the hedges. I asked one of my neighbors, the guy who lives next to my pet cemetary, "what is the protocol for obtaining a burning permit?" I could tell by his perplexed look that he hadn't understood my question, so I rephrased, "I'd like to burn this pile of brush, whom should I call?" Again, confusion. I pointed to the brush, "I'm going to light this on fire." Finally he said, "Oh, do you need some matches?"
Since that time, I've adopted the local customs and I burn whatever I want whenever I want. So, I was out in the backyard burning the disassembled pieces from a chest of drawers. The fire was just roaring when, all of a sudden, something shot out of the barrel skyward into a tree 30 feet away. Then, it happened again?! After ducking for cover, I emerged to try to figure out what I was launching all over the neighborhood. There were pieces of metal, formerly hinges and such, that had somehow reformulated themselves as flying projectiles. I'm not sure exactly how it happened, but I did have to pause to consider, "Wouldn't I feel like an idiot if one of those had hit me or someone else?" There ought to be a law.
Incidentally, the ife-way has esumed-ray eading-ray the ustyblog-ray. Ixnay on the aphne-day.
4 comments:
Hi OneEar,
You were fortunate that one of those burning projectiles didn’t gouge out an eye, singe your eyebrows or hair OR land on one of the little OneEar’s. I’ve got a large cement incinerator in a side lot that’s been there since the early ‘60’s, when disposing of yard trimmings was more or less tolerated in California. I wonder if my neighbors think it’s a relic from Auschwitz….
You are going to place a wire mesh screen over your “burning barrel” from here on out, aren’t you?
ML- I am more interested in figuring out exactly how I was launching burning projectiles and then in harnessing that power.
The little Ears are sensible enough to stay far away when Daddy is disassembling.
Hi OneEar,
Aha! Once you’re able to figure exactly how and why you were launching burning projectiles in the back yard, maybe you could recreate the scene for the First Unichurck. Rusty could stand in the pulpit and perform the same “mystical illusions” and enthrall the parishioners…it might help fill the depleted coffers.
Do the little Ears stand back and wonder what “miracle” Daddy is going to be performing next?
"Incidentally, the ife-way has esumed-ray eading-ray the ustyblog-ray. Ixnay on the aphne-day."
rutro
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