Just pulled into the driveway after a long evening in Clarksville. It’s well past dusk, and the only light left in the sky is that faint glimmer that tricks you into thinking you’ve got ten more minutes to mow the yard (you don’t). The yellow sodium security lights have kicked on, bathing the yard in that charming prison-yard glow.
And there stands William. 8:45 PM. In the grass. Waiting. Why? Because Terrence is en route with a can of starting fluid. You know—ether. Explosive ether. For cranking the Dodge. Because what better time to perform a controlled combustion experiment than right before bedtime? Honestly, doing this in broad daylight would rob us of the full experience. If you’re gonna blow up a 1998 Dodge pickup, you may as well do it when the red lights from the fire truck can reflect off the smoke for dramatic effect.
And speaking of flashing red lights, I was suddenly reminded of that time back in my deputy sheriff days when I drove a patrol car off into a ditch. Well… “drove” is a generous word. Because the second remarkable thing about that incident (we’ll get to the first in a second) is: I wasn’t even in the car…