A Quiet Little 4th of July
2006-07-07, 1:22 p.m.

There�s something about men and fire.

Maybe it�s the whole �run with scissors, cook with danger� thing. Hubby prefers a gas grill. He converted our grill and connected it to the gas line to the house. Cook those steaks to perfection and keep the house from going FOOM? Hoo YEAH, baby.

Getting ready for the pig pickin� was proving to be a challenge. GroovyGuru borrowed an electric welder and Hubby installed the proper outlet and breaker, only to find that the electric one wasn�t nearly powerful enough to weld the expanded steel mesh for the grill grate. July 3rd, 11th hour, Hubby rented a huge gas-powered arc welder, and he and the Guru tested their introductory welding skills by running with the big boys. It worked, and we have two nice grates for the fire pit.

Yes, the man who just fell through his friends� ceiling while wiring and barely escaped serious injury, who has never welded before, got to play with a large gas-powered arc welder, without instructions or proper supervision. (Other arson-friendly boys in the garage don�t count. Because how did GroovyGuru gear up for the 4th? By melting plastic army men on HIS grill.) And they both did nicely. MY life is a few decades shorter, but I digress...

So the fire pit was ready, and I had spent weeks finding out the perfect way to roast a hog. Every person I asked, every site I searched, said the same thing...low and slow. Few coals, long roasting time. Three to five pounds charcoal, max. Hubby asked around, got the same advice. But this is a fire pit.

MAN.

FIRE.

MEAT.

We rolled out of bed before 4am on the 4th and Hubby went outside to start the coals. I moseyed out to see just before 5am and really shouldn�t have been surprised. Few coals? Low and slow? No, this is MAN COOKING.

A few changes were made. GroovyGuru was still at work, so I zipped off an email to him.

Captain's Log, Stardate 070402006
Let the record show that there was an ass chewing next to the fire pit at 0500 hours in regards to charcoal quantities and threats of insubordination. The Ensign did recognize his place before being forced into the flaming fire pit, and did get the proper tools for the Captain (such as the rake and shovel, instead of the lame large stick he was using) so that she could remove most of the FIFTEEN POUNDS of charcoal the Ensign had used to light a funeral pyre underneath 200 lbs of meat.
Let the record show that within 45 seconds of putting the meat on the grill, and in the Ensign's infinite wisdom (and pyromania) there being more charcoal than meat, there was a grease fire.
As the Ensign's mind was controlled by advanced alien technology, the Captain had to wrest control by the use of loud outdoor verbal abuse. Words such as "damn fool" were used frequently.
Upon further deprogramming techniques indoors, specifically being shown instructions (with photos) where it takes LESS THAN FIVE pounds of charcoal spread underneath for a WHOLE DRESSED 180 lb hog, the Ensign did see the error of his ways, and was glad to have a Captain to prevent him from spending a day making two hundred dollars' worth of shoe leather.

After a few minutes, during which time Hubby was forced to look at hog-roasting instructional websites, I got a response from GroovyGuru.

Admirals log, Stardate supplimental,
It has come to the attention of this office via Captain SallyDallydo that we nearly lost an Ensign to a flameout at 0500 hours. We at Starfleet command, with surplus supply of red shirts and the ability to appoint new ensigns via rubberstamp, still advise caution in this matter . . . for the time being. Utmost care regarding the guest of honor, Albert Einswine, must be considered. Furthermore, Starfleet calls for review of Federation of Planet proceedures in accordance with "How we cook pigs in the Gamma Quadrant of Mississippi".
Let it be known that sufficent heat will be generated under impulse power and engagment of warp power is unnecessary and inadvisable.
Let it also be noted the ambassador of the Gorn has been briefed on the incident. If the succulent mammal flesh is charred beyond recognition, he says he will be neither merciful nor quick.
GroovyGuru
Hungry Admiral

He dropped by on his way home from work just after 8am to be sure that
1. The hog was roasting instead of vulcanizing, and
2. Hubby was not basting on a spit next to it.
All was well, so he went home to sleep, and Hubby and I continued with preps for the party. His part was to rake coals every half-hour for 12 hours in 95 degree heat. Mine was to cook baked beans and potato salad and set up everything else indoors in the air conditioning. Setting up for a 4th of July party is fun and easy. We should do this every year.

Friends began arriving, laden with food, food, and yet more food around 3-ish, the hog was roasted to perfection soon thereafter, and all the menfolk got to earn their keep pulling the meat in the July afternoon heat. But even with Hubby�s �I-wanna-be-a-pyro-when-I-grow-up� start, the tarp going up in a blaze of glory the second he covered the pit halfway through cooking, his improvisory cover with leftover treehouse roofing tin (nevermind that tar, we�ll just slide that piece over a bit)...
That was the most tender, juicy, delicious pork you have ever tasted.

And the poor boy was �bout too worn out to eat it.

But catch a little shuteye? HECK no...there were kids on the loose, kids with army men to blow up and a big ol� bag of fire crackers. Fire crackers with short fuses. Little boys who had been waiting all day to melt and explode things for the pure sake of blowing shit up.

Wonder where they got that from.

GroovyGuru chased the kids around the yard with the hog�s head, the kids blew stuff up, everybody ate themselves silly, the kids blew more stuff up, everybody packed up food to take home, the kids blew up still more crap, we foisted our children off on a couple of poor unsuspecting souls friends to par-TAY and blow stuff up at their houses, and Hubby went to bed, no longer quite sure who he was or what planet he was on.

Yeah, I think we�ll do this again.

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