More Childhood Pyromania

Like I said yesterday, one of my few regular chores was taking out the trash and as I got older, burning it.  In our small town, the city only picked up our trash a couple of times a month.  So, we burned it in our trash barrels at least a couple of times between pick-ups.  I don't remember if there was a regular pick-up schedule, or if Don just came by when he had time.  He was kind of the do-everything city employee.  I think he was the maintenance department, animal control, and waste management department combined.  Anyway at least a couple of times that I can remember, Don provided our entertainment on a summer day.  Burning trash in the barrel and an irregular pick-up schedule was a dangerous combination.  Trash burned the day before the pick up would not be flaming, but would be smoldering.  Smoldering trash compacted on top of the other trash would eventually produce a flaming garbage truck.  I remember Bobby and I racing our bikes down the street trying to keep up with Don as he sped through town to the city dump with flames trailing out the back of the truck.

I also remember a scary trash burning incident with Jeff. We had difficulty getting the trash in his alley to burn.  His parents had their own gas tank, unfortunately within fairly easy reach of the trash barrels.  After several failed attempts to get the trash to burn, we had the brilliant idea to pour gasoline on the trash.  The tank had a long hose and just reached the barrel.  A few cautious shots of gasoline were dumped on top of the trash.  Being reasonably intelligent boys, we took the hose back to the tank before trying to light the trash.  Jeff lit a match on the side of the barrel and tossed it in.  Instantly there was a fwoomp and the flames shot up out of the barrel, just like in the cartoons!  And just like in the cartoons, the trail of gasoline that dripped down the side of the barrel to the ground and along the wooden fence toward the gas tank also lit up.  I stomped on as much as I could and Jeff ran for the water hose, which of course reached almost to the fire.  Fortunately for us, the gasoline trailed out into the dirt of the alley before crossing back into the grass to the gas tank.  The gasoline burned off before the flames had a chance to get back to the dry grass.  That was end of my trash burning career, and probably for Jeff too.

Back to Don, the city worker, he also drove the truck that sprayed for mosquitoes in the summer.  That was another form of entertainment for Bobby, Jeff, and me.  We would chase behind the truck on our bicycles, inhaling the ddt fog that would keep the mosquitoes from carrying us away.  There's a line in a James McMurtry song titled, 12 O'Clock Whistle,that says about DDT, "that stuff won't hurt you none, the neighbor lady'd say, but encephalitis, now that'll ruin your day. "If you like country-folk-rock music, I'd recommend James McMurtry.  And this one,It Had to Happen, is my favorite album. For some reason, this song reminds me of spending time in the summer with my Grandma Mae. Besides how can anyone resist a song that successfully works "encephalitis" into its lyrics!