Life Lessons
A roadmap to surviving life's twists and turns
by
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Life Lesson Number 324 – “Fire in the Hole!“ I just wanted to humiliate myself (one more time) by telling you a funny story about what happened to me this weekend. It was one of those situations where you think things can't get any worse, but they do. Let me set the background picture so you understand how and where this happened. We have had VBS play practice at the church building every evening and every day for the last three weeks. Sunday afternoon was no different. We finished at about 4:00 PM, which gave us just enough time to rush home to my favorite toilet (you know, the one that you’re comfortable with) and take care of business, before returning to church. There's no place like home; there's no place like home. So on arrival I rush into our little bathroom at home, take care of business and sigh that sigh that we all sigh when that sense of great relief comes over us. Now, being the good husband that I am, and under strict instructions from my wife as to toilet etiquette, I reach down for a small decorative glass candle and a book of matches to light the "incense fire.” I balance the small candle on my bare knee, strike the match, light the wick inside the glass and, reaching down, try to place the candle and matchbook on the floor. At this point, the candle slips, flipping on its side. Not a problem; I reach down and flip it back up, trying not to disturb the lovely decorative rope and flower ornaments around the candle. I return to my relaxation, and begin to read. Problem! When I had gently set the candle back in the upright position, a small piece of string had accidentally ended up dangling about an inch and half over the candle flame. High enough to not ignite immediately but long enough to lull me into a sense of relaxation. The offending string then proceeds to ignite into a lovely blue flame about three inches high. At this point I now have two open flames in the bathroom (candlewick and string). Problem! I scream for help, but no one hears me as the toilet door, bathroom door, and bedroom door are all shut. It is like being in Maxwell Smart’s cone of silence. Since I knew that the combination of two open flames in a closed chamber filled with gas is not a good thing, panic begins to set in. Reaching down, I grab the candle jar and bring it close to my face blowing as hard as I can to put out the string fire. Problem! Important safety tip. Never, I repeat, never blow on a burning object with your pants down around your ankles. Why? Because small particles of burning debris tend to waft off and float downwards, sending hot coals into your underwear and onto the (what I perceive to be highly flammable) toilet carpet. (So, let me give you a visual recap of the situation at this point. I now have fire in the candle, fire on the string, hot coals in my underwear and burning embers on the carpet around the toilet [where I am still sitting]. Things could not get worse.) Problem! After much huffing and blowing at the open flame, the burning string finally goes out. At this point a temporary sense of relief overcomes me as a crisis appears to have been averted. Wrong! There is still much smoke coming from the burning string and hot embers are still wafting away to do whatever damage they can. In hindsight, my next move was really questionable. With the burning ember being so large (and my hands full at that time), the thought crossed my mind that I should lick my fingers and snuff out the burning string. "But," I thought to myself, "you will burn your thumb and finger if you do that." I then made a fateful choice. I said to myself, "Just wad up a huge bundle of toilet paper and grab the wick! The pressure will snuff out the ember since it will be in the middle of the paper and it won't flame up." (Don't go there. I know, I know...) So I grab the toilet roll, give it one mighty pull, and about six feet of paper hits the floor. I quickly do the lasso movement with my arm, wrapping the paper around my hand. I then crush the toilet paper into a tight ball telling myself that things are starting to look up. I then take the wadded paper, grab the burning string embers and snuff them out. A great sense of relief came over me. Wrong! As I snuff out the embers of the string (you know, that string that was right over the burning candle wick which was still alight inside the jar), the outer papers of the large wad of toilet paper catches alight. Now if you have never seen that wafer-thin toilet paper react to an open flame, I would suggest doing a small experiment OUTSIDE. Needless to say, I am now sitting on the porcelain perch, pants down around my ankles, burning candle in my left hand and flaming toilet paper in my right hand. I am now screaming for help and starting to cough from the smoke. Problem! At this point I realize I have but one option with the flaming toilet paper. I stand up, trying to keep my unclean nether regions over the porcelain, reach between my legs with a flaming wad of toilet paper and throw it into the bowl. I did this because in my feeble-addled mind the toilet bowl had water in it and water is fire’s enemy. WRONG! The consistency of wadded toilet paper is such that it is light enough to float. Thus, I find myself straddling a porcelain pyre with flames about 12 inches high. Problem! At this point I lose my balance, as I am trying to lean away from the flames (remember that bare behind thing), and fall headfirst towards the door catching myself with my now empty right hand. Being off balance, I pushed back off the closed toilet door, over-corrected (E = MC squared - momentum is a terrible thing), and fell back on the flaming porcelain pyre. BIG PROBLEM! Why it took me so long to think about hitting the flusher, I don't know. Perhaps it was the sheer horror of imagining how I would explain this situation to the emergency room doctor, or, worse, how the crime scene investigation team from the coroner’s office would write this up without laughing. But I finally did hit the flusher. In the time it took that burning toilet paper to do two laps of the bowl and disappear, it did the best depilatory job on a hairy bum you have ever seen. So what have I learned from this experience? 1. Never close more than one door between you and a possible rescue squad. 2. Remove all decorative paraphernalia from a candle before using it under industrial conditions. 3. Never, I repeat, NEVER, assume that wadded paper will snuff out a burning ember. 4. Never put flaming objects between your bare legs. 5. Burning paper floats AND CONTINUES TO BURN. 6. In the time it takes for burning toilet tissue to make two rounds of a toilet bowl, it can do a lot of damage. Hairlesly yours, Ian
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About the Book
Life Lesson Number 324 – “Fire in the Hole!“ I just wanted to humiliate myself (one more time) by telling you a funny story about what happened to me this weekend. It was one of those situations where you think things can't get any worse, but they do. Let me set the background picture so you understand how and where this happened. We have had VBS play practice at the church building every evening and every day for the last three weeks. Sunday afternoon was no different. We finished at about 4:00 PM, which gave us just enough time to rush home to my favorite toilet (you know, the one that you’re comfortable with) and take care of business, before returning to church. There's no place like home; there's no place like home. So on arrival I rush into our little bathroom at home, take care of business and sigh that sigh that we all sigh when that sense of great relief comes over us. Now, being the good husband that I am, and under strict instructions from my wife as to toilet etiquette, I reach down for a small decorative glass candle and a book of matches to light the "incense fire.” I balance the small candle on my bare knee, strike the match, light the wick inside the glass and, reaching down, try to place the candle and matchbook on the floor. At this point, the candle slips, flipping on its side. Not a problem; I reach down and flip it back up, trying not to disturb the lovely decorative rope and flower ornaments around the candle. I return to my relaxation, and begin to read. Problem! When I had gently set the candle back in the upright position, a small piece of string had accidentally ended up dangling about an inch and half over the candle flame. High enough to not ignite immediately but long enough to lull me into a sense of relaxation. The offending string then proceeds to ignite into a lovely blue flame about three inches high. At this point I now have two open flames in the bathroom (candlewick and string). Problem! I scream for help, but no one hears me as the toilet door, bathroom door, and bedroom door are all shut. It is like being in Maxwell Smart’s cone of silence. Since I knew that the combination of two open flames in a closed chamber filled with gas is not a good thing, panic begins to set in. Reaching down, I grab the candle jar and bring it close to my face blowing as hard as I can to put out the string fire. Problem! Important safety tip. Never, I repeat, never blow on a burning object with your pants down around your ankles. Why? Because small particles of burning debris tend to waft off and float downwards, sending hot coals into your underwear and onto the (what I perceive to be highly flammable) toilet carpet. (So, let me give you a visual recap of the situation at this point. I now have fire in the candle, fire on the string, hot coals in my underwear and burning embers on the carpet around the toilet [where I am still sitting]. Things could not get worse.) Problem! After much huffing and blowing at the open flame, the burning string finally goes out. At this point a temporary sense of relief overcomes me as a crisis appears to have been averted. Wrong! There is still much smoke coming from the burning string and hot embers are still wafting away to do whatever damage they can. In hindsight, my next move was really questionable. With the burning ember being so large (and my hands full at that time), the thought crossed my mind that I should lick my fingers and snuff out the burning string. "But," I thought to myself, "you will burn your thumb and finger if you do that." I then made a fateful choice. I said to myself, "Just wad up a huge bundle of toilet paper and grab the wick! The pressure will snuff out the ember since it will be in the middle of the paper and it won't flame up." (Don't go there. I know, I know...) So I grab the toilet roll, give it one mighty pull, and about six feet of paper hits the floor. I quickly do the lasso movement with my arm, wrapping the paper around my hand. I then crush the toilet paper into a tight ball telling myself that things are starting to look up. I then take the wadded paper, grab the burning string embers and snuff them out. A great sense of relief came over me. Wrong! As I snuff out the embers of the string (you know, that string that was right over the burning candle wick which was still alight inside the jar), the outer papers of the large wad of toilet paper catches alight. Now if you have never seen that wafer-thin toilet paper react to an open flame, I would suggest doing a small experiment OUTSIDE. Needless to say, I am now sitting on the porcelain perch, pants down around my ankles, burning candle in my left hand and flaming toilet paper in my right hand. I am now screaming for help and starting to cough from the smoke. Problem! At this point I realize I have but one option with the flaming toilet paper. I stand up, trying to keep my unclean nether regions over the porcelain, reach between my legs with a flaming wad of toilet paper and throw it into the bowl. I did this because in my feeble-addled mind the toilet bowl had water in it and water is fire’s enemy. WRONG! The consistency of wadded toilet paper is such that it is light enough to float. Thus, I find myself straddling a porcelain pyre with flames about 12 inches high. Problem! At this point I lose my balance, as I am trying to lean away from the flames (remember that bare behind thing), and fall headfirst towards the door catching myself with my now empty right hand. Being off balance, I pushed back off the closed toilet door, over-corrected (E = MC squared - momentum is a terrible thing), and fell back on the flaming porcelain pyre. BIG PROBLEM! Why it took me so long to think about hitting the flusher, I don't know. Perhaps it was the sheer horror of imagining how I would explain this situation to the emergency room doctor, or, worse, how the crime scene investigation team from the coroner’s office would write this up without laughing. But I finally did hit the flusher. In the time it took that burning toilet paper to do two laps of the bowl and disappear, it did the best depilatory job on a hairy bum you have ever seen. So what have I learned from this experience? 1. Never close more than one door between you and a possible rescue squad. 2. Remove all decorative paraphernalia from a candle before using it under industrial conditions. 3. Never, I repeat, NEVER, assume that wadded paper will snuff out a burning ember. 4. Never put flaming objects between your bare legs. 5. Burning paper floats AND CONTINUES TO BURN. 6. In the time it takes for burning toilet tissue to make two rounds of a toilet bowl, it can do a lot of damage. Hairlesly yours, Ian
About the Author
Ian spent many years working in industry in both Australia and the United States. In all his experience he was noted as having a unique sense of humor regarding the workplace and his home life. ?After all,? Ian would say, ?if I can?t laugh at the silly and stupid things I have done, my life would be pretty boring.? He is also known to tell a good story around the campfire.
After completing his M.B.A. Ian continued his education while working and in 1998 completed a Doctor of Arts degree in Economics from Middle Tennessee State University in Murfreesboro, Tennessee. In August of 2002, Ian moved to Montgomery Alabama where he is now Chairman of the Department of Business at Faulkner University.
Ian calls himself a ?humorist?, trying to see the funny side of all the events that befall us in life. His stories and humor reflect on the everyday man and his ability to find joy in the simplest of things, mainly his own stupidity.