Fire!

Okay guys.

Its about 1 A.M. I'm supposed to be asleep because I somehow got drafted to go upon my grandmother's roof, when she knows I'm deathly afraid of heights (I always feel like this set of mickey-mouse hands are going to reach up and pull me over the edge) and re-roof it, at 8 AM. But of course, I'm checking the Cubs' score, because it might have changed in the last 5 minutes? Anyways, I hear my wonderfully smart dog, Irish wimper so as to say "Look, Neil, something's going on outside... maybe someone's stuck in a well".

Of course his sanguine wimpers are nearly drowned out by my older sister's Bitch (I can say that, she is, in fact, a female dog) barking her damned head off.

So, naturally, I go to the door. What do I see but flashing lights upon the trees in our yard. I lean out the door and look down the street and there are TONS of lights. My first thought, "Aliens"; the Hamilton Po-po's finally realized that the broken-down house down the street who always has a different car parked out in front of it doesn't belong to "car-dealers." But then my huge snoz caught a wiff of the sweet spring air and methinks I smelled burning rubber.

So I follow what was quickly becoming a congregation of my fellow neighbors down the street to see what the comotion was. Now, let me tell you, everyone was there. Mrs. Backer, Mrs. Ancelot, Mrs. Connaly. Didn't anyone leave this town? Besides, there were more moo-moos there than an Indian Temple. (Austin slaughterhouse? Barry Manilow concert? eh, I'm working on it)

I find that the house that was in flames was, in fact, The Ruark's. I think that's how you spell it.

Here's the weird thing. I was running the Bear Trail, I mean walking the Bear Trail, Okay, walking to McDonalds last week when I had a random thought. Mark Ruark, whatever in the name of Super-fly Jimmy Snooka's Bunghole happened to him? I remember he was the guy who made being the Hamilton Cardinal Mascot Cool. Yeah, I said it.

That kid was hard-core. I remember how he could do a standing back-flip. No Hands. He would do summersaults and cartwheels with the big cardinal head on. I remember when we went to state, and he got into a fight with the other mascot and kicked his ass. I also remember him with a bloody nose afterwards... oh well.

So anyways, I was just thinking about that kid no more than a day or two ago when I come home and see his house burning down. I don't mean to sound cavalier, I just thought it was weird.