The Air Base Fire Department came to our neighborhood today to set fire to the house across the street. You heard me.
It was such a bizarre event – one might even say Bradburian, if one were an effete snob who used words like “effete” – that I just had to watch, even though I should’ve been trying to catch some sleep after a twelve-hour mid. Not like they gave me much choice; they parked a fire truck just outside my bedroom window, dropped a brick on the gas pedal, and left the motor running all day.
Now, try to imagine: You’re a fireman in the air base fire department, maybe a young airmen or NCO, and one day you say to your supervisor, “Sarge, you know those old buildings they’re gonna tear down? Why don’t we set fire to them and use them as a classroom to teach fire fighting techniques?” And the supervisor says, “Sounds great. Work out the details and get back to me.” And you spend the rest of the week writing up a detailed plan to burn houses down. What a great job! If only it involved using explosives, it’d be a perfect job.
Sean’s first wrestling scrimmage is going on tonight, and I’ll have to miss it so I can go off to save the free world yet again. It’s really just a practice amongst the team members, not facing another team, but he worked so hard both at practice and on bringing his grades up from an unfortunate slump that I wanted to see him in action.
General Order #3 wasn’t the same: We’re now instructed to remain indoors during curfew, instead of in our “domicile.” The Ensign interprets this to mean that we can overnight out of town, so long as we let her know where we are.
This Is Drivel 