Home of the Brave

If Monday's tragedy here in my own hometown of Charleston, SC proves anything, it proves that the Firefighter is the most underrated and under appreciated branch of a city's emergency services. For 24 hours at any given time, these otherwise average human beings take the responsibility of putting out flames, from the vehicle with the blown engine to the massive warehouses, to the World Trade Center.

Monday's horrific event unfolded less than one mile from the bowling alley where I roll, I just so happened to be there at the time. I had no idea it was going on until one of my teammates received a phone call from her Father, an employee at the store. I could tell the perplexed look on her face led to something being terribly wrong. "Sofa Super Store is on fire!!!??" She had to run and see for herself, who could blame her, her Father's paycheck was half of their two person household's income. Upon her quick return, the expression she wore had shifted from perplexity to near shock. The police had blocked the street literally at the edge of the bowling alley's parking lot.

The night moved along as normal, with the random eavesdropping producing nothing of value news-wise. The first I had heard of someone losing their life came later, after league was finished and myself along with a few friends from the night were bowling dollar games in the darkness of the after hours dollar game time. A girl I was talking to had told me of her cousin had been working there that night and was taken to MUSC for burn treatment (incidentally, after meeting her Father it turned out that it was actually his brother in law, apparently in the backwoods, everyone is a cousin, regardless, I hope he's ok). As I was hearing about this, it was also mentioned that two Firefighters were already lost, though the cause was hazy. It wasn't long after that I was making my way back home for the night.

I woke up on Tuesday to see that this had made national news (I watch Fox News every morning, hate me for it if you'd like). I began to wonder why a fire at an insignificant furniture store in an insignificant part of Charleston had made it to such a high media platform.....it was then that I heard the number of Firefighters lost had increased to nine. Prior to 9/11, I think the largest amount lost in duty was around fourteen.

Charleston's history with fire goes back to even before American Revolution. As a matter of fact, it was William Pinkney that started the first fire insurance company, right here in the low country. The difference between then and now comes in respect to the loss of life. Fires throughout the city and throughout the centuries here have claimed more property than life. Blocks of downtown have been consumed in flames on many different occasions, but not the people.

So the next time you're driving along and, while sitting at a stoplight, a random Fireman holds his boot out to you, please put money in it. I don't care if all you have is some wet change, put it in.

The End is Near?

"OH WON'T SOMEBODY PLEASE THINK OF THE CHILDREN" - Helen Lovejoy

Have I missed something?

There was a point in time during my life in which I felt I still had some connection to the youth of today's society. Now I'm beginning to think that point was not in recognition of a connection, but more of a departure, a departure from my own juvenility. Everyday I see more and more subtle nuances that define a new generation, and, to be honest, it kind of depresses me. Reasons? Explanations? I am not sure if one can really pinpoint a single scapegoat to explain the behavior and attitudes of this group. Personally, I can think of quite a few.

Television.

How dare I attack that which I have spent most my life worshiping? It is actually quite simple. In 1985, the average amount of television channels was around 19. The average in 2002.....102. (ITfacts) When I was in my childhood, I watched a considerable amount of television, but with only a handful of channels I'd eventually get bored and go outside to do something constructive. Sometimes, just sometimes, I'd even read (gasp!). With over 100 channels on average, and even more if you're privileged enough to own a digital cable box or miniature satellite dish, if one looks hard enough, one will always find something to watch. Once the critical viewing threshold is reached and one decides to back away from this cube of mental sterility, one still has the option of the........

Internet.

I view the internet as a wonderful weapon. When used correctly, it is the greatest invention mankind could have possibly thought of. However, when the primary goal of surfing time is the passing of time, it means only to destroy an independent mind. The sick irony of this is that as impressionable youth attempt to use this beacon of light for the unending pursuit of knowledge, they become incredibly gullible, especially in politics and world affairs. One could conduct an experiment by asking the average teenage activist why they have a hatred for George W. Bush.....then following up with quizzing them to name the three branches of the US government.

Loss of Parental Role Models.

It was once natural to resent one's parents, if for no other reason but to be different. Today it almost seems as if the parents resent the children, or have disappeared altogether. The father, replaced by the television, the mother, the Internet. The crazy uncles and deranged aunts, American Idol judges, homosexual cousins, instant message emoticons. With access to that kind of endless information, why would one seek the oft simple yet spoken from experience guidance from one's parents, one's own flesh and blood. I once met a young lady from the backwoods of South Carolina, actually I probably shouldn't refer to her as a lady, as she's still just a girl who happens to be 18. This girl was very much attracted to me, and with good reason, but upon further inspection it was to be discovered she was already a mother, with her mother tending the baby as we spoke. It immediately occurred to me that she had most likely never gotten a sit down with her parents to get the basic lecture on, if nothing else, birth control or contraception....I know she wasn't catholic ("the southeastern branch of Trans-presby-lutheranism" - Rev Lovejoy).

It is for this last reason that I will withhold some of the blame from the youth as it is only partially their responsibility to grow in the right light. However, I often sit and wonder, do I really think the children are our future, and can they lead the way?

Just call me the Godfather of Bowl

I'll just come right out and say it. If you don't like to bowl, you're no longer an American in my book. So maybe that was a bit harsh, but how could you not, assuming you actually don't like it. Regardless, I do like it, and the purpose of this is the recant just how nice it is to be back on a bowling league for the first time in about ten years. I can certainly say it was missed, and missed greatly.

There are numerous reasons why league bowling is addictive. First, the pure seediness of it comes to mind. We've all seen the bowling alley scenes, whether it be in a movie, tv show, or what have you. It's always smoky, inhabited by the not so classy and the low lives and the trash of society. Most of the time they are intoxicated as well. I know it's expected of me to try and dispel those stereotypes......well I'm not. It's exactly as I described, that's the beauty of it.

Underneath this rough exterior is a camaraderie seldom matched in day to day life. This bond is repeated on a weekly basis and is the result of direct competition. The slapping of hands, pumping of fists, this doesn't just happen between teammates, but between opposing teams as well. The song is belted to the tune of pitcher after pitcher. The first game may allow you the leeway of complete sobriety, at least until frame six or seven. This allows the score to be higher than normal, giving you a false sense of pride and accomplishment. By about halfway through game 3, if you can still see the pins straight, you're a lucky one. Every minute is still enjoyable.