Great Balls of Fire
Our place at
the Jersey Shore is a small apartment underneath Mrs. C’s Aunt’s
really nice house about 50 feet from the beach.
One extra plus in this really sweet deal is that Aunt Catherine allows
me to use her bbq grill off her back deck.
The negative is that it is a 30+ yard walk over stones (very painful to bare
feet) from the apt. to the grill. Not awful except bbqing is like fixing stuff
around the house, you always forget something and instead of multiple trips to
the hardware store you make multiple trips from the Apt. to the grill.
Anyway.
The other
night I was grilling chicken. While I
was tending the chicken pieces, Mrs. C came around back and took the plate
which I used to transport the chicken.
She wanted to bring back a clean plate.
While waiting for a clean plate, the grill started to get hot, really
hot, fire hot.
I quick
turned off the grill and hollered for a plate so I could remove the fat
dripping chicken which was feeding a fire.
There was no response to my request.
The house next door was enjoying cocktail hour but became a bit alarmed
at the fire that was pouring out of the closed grill. Two grandchildren and a friend who were
playing out back spotted the flames.
“Hey dude,
you have a problem.” No shit Sherlock.
“Grandpa
Joe, do you know how to cook?” Grumble
grumbler grumble!
At this
point the chicken was toast, I mean it was actually toast. The bigger problem was the grill was close to
burning down Aunt Catherine’s deck. If
that happened she would probably never rent the Apt. to us again. The house next door was close enough for them
to be concerned for their multi-zillion dollar home.
I was border
line panicking when I ran for a hose that was on the deck. I turned it on and raced back to the grill. The hose did not reach; it was looped around a
hose ring thingy. I started to swing the
hose like a jump rope to unwrap it from the hose ring thingy. Still not long enough. I continued to play jump hose until the water
flow finally reached the grill.
The fire was
extinguished; the deck, house and the house next door were none the worse. Dinner was just a phone call away.
Upstairs-cousin Mike later said he saw the jump hose routine from inside the house but
did not realize immediately there was an emergency. When he did see what had happened, he later informed
me, he did not think it was the right time to tell me that my panicky jump hose
routine was one of the funniest things he had seen in a long time. I may have been exhibiting signs of being a
little agitated.
Before I use
the grill again, it is going to receive a major cleaning. Apparently a year plus of grease build up in
a bbq grill can become a little dangerous.
