South Carolina 2011

There wasn't much to do while we were waiting, so Gary decided to chill in the hammock. That looked like such a good idea because who doesn't like hammocks? I bet if most people had the tree configuration in their backyard they would definitely hang a hammock and nap their afternoons away. It was Thurman approved and that was good enough for me. I will gladly follow in his footsteps, and Gary and Kevin were in agreement.

We had so much time to kill that Kevin had the genius idea of driving back to the gas station to pick up a case of PBR so we would have something to do while we waited. Beer, fire, scary clowns, waiting, outdoors, boredom and family go together like slingshots and midgets.

It turns out that I wasn't the only one in our motley crew that was enamored by the fire. Thurman loved it like he was born in the satanic fires of hell and damnation itself. Given his demonic smile and evil cackle I wouldn't doubt it, even if he was a sweet hearted, gentle soul. Thurman was nothing short of cordial as he put us before him at every single opportunity. I have never met anyone like him in my life and I doubt I will again.

James and Melissa's backyard has plenty of room for activities, which bodes well for their dog (at the time, dogs now). But I doubt that when they moved in they envisioned their yard being filled with weirdos and clowns. No one ever expects that to happen there.

James lives in a real nice neighborhood, but we learned right away that it was mandatory to own a dog if you lived here. His dog Baya was surprisingly quiet in the house, but the dogs across the street were trying to tear down the garage door to come and eat us.

It's no secret that I love fire more than I love my own children, and since I don't have any children (that I am aware of) then there is plenty of room in my heart for fire. We were bored and had some time to kill before James and Melissa got home so the logical thing was to start a fire. And they had plenty of wood so it made sense.

The dogs might have been locked up but we weren't. In fact we were so free after spending 15 hours straight cooped up in a car that we went exploring in the woods behind James' house. While Kevin was checking out the creek I threw a stick at him and almost hit him. Classic case of boys being boys, but I don't think he appreciated it.

Even though he was no Bam Margera or Tony Hawk, I still appreciated Kevin's effort and attitude. It takes some real tenacity to go out there, not land a trick then get right back on the board. I would have stopped when I missed my first backside varial kickflip.

My involvement with the Boy Scouts, many years of camping and pyromania has given me the skills to start a fire just about anywhere. James had this poor excuse for a fire pit that wasn't exactly safe but it would do. I gathered some small sticks and some logs and before long we had something to stare at besides each other. It's not that I didn't want to gaze longingly into the eyes of the McKissick boys, it's just that fire is so much more captivating. No offense of course. Nothing against either of you I just love fire that much.