Smoke and the Water (with apologies to Deep Purple…)

Lets start with the water. I spent last weekend out of town participating in a team triathlon – I did the swim, of course. I was the fastest woman, the seventh fastest overall, and I beat the second place relay swimmer out of the water by about five minutes. As a relay, we finished third out of 20 – sweet! Maybe I should learn to ride a bike with gears and try doing my own triathlon next time. Maybe. Can you do BJJ with a case of road rash? I’m just saying, land sports with wheels aren’t always my strong point.


Now for the smoke. I came home from the triathlon on Sunday and messed around on the computer for a while. Then I went down into the basement to get something and was assailed by the most awful shrieking noise. I realized the room was full of smoke and the dog was looking at me as if to say, “hey, um, something’s happening…” Since I couldn’t find the source of the noise, I threw the breaker to the basement outlets. That stopped the noise, but the smoke was still strong and it smelled like an electrical fire. 


Great, I thought, I suppose I have to call the fire department now, because who knows what’s burning in my walls. Well, I don’t want to say that it was a mistake, because I know it was the right thing to do, but holy crap did they drag out every last fire truck and ambulance and God knows what else. Of course, the neighbors, not having any lives of their own, all came out onto the street to watch the entertainment.


So there I was sitting outside with the dog, getting chewed to bits by our bumper crop of mosquitos, being stared at by neighbors with nothing better to do with their life, and watching men and women in full fire fighting gear clomping in and out of my house. Finally, one of them motioned me inside and told me that the source of the noise and smoke was…the television. It had decided to have a meltdown in a melodramatic fashion and was the source of both the noise and the smoke. There was no fire in the walls. Everything else was fine. So, after taking the TV out to the concrete pad to cool off (“We don’t want to throw it in the dumpster or you’ll have to call us back when the stuff in the dumpster catches on fire,” they said) the trucks and ambulances and fire marshall rolled out, and the neighbors went back to …well, who knows what the hell they do when someone isn’t having an emergency they can stare at.


My impressions of the day:

Firemen/women: awesome, if a bit overenthusiastic. 

Neighbors: Definitely not into BJJ, or they wouldn’t have been dragged away from their video of the 2009 Mundials or their Marcelo Garcia tutorial by a silly little fire truck or five. 

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