When I entered the garage I could have sworn I saw the Christmas tree trembling, as if it knew about what was to come. When I plugged in my new toy, the little light on the plug came on, and I knew I was ready to create mayhem. The tree lay there on the garage floor, dry, brown and brittle.
I knelt down at the base of the tree with the jigsaw in hand, eager to squeeze the trigger. As I applied pressure to the trigger, the motor began to whir, and the blade began moving up and down. More pressure. The blade was now moving up and down in a blur, and the noise in the garage spoke of impending doom for the helpless, lifeless Christmas tree. I scoped out the first victim of the blade. It was a fairly thick branch extending from the bottom of the base of the tree. Almost awkwardly, I placed the jig in position and started to cut. Soon the air filled with the smell of tree sap. The smell was sweet with the hint of hot wood, like a fireplace in the winter.
Each branch I cut was tossed to the side until a pile of branches began to grow. Before I knew it, all that remained was the trunk of the tree and small piles of brown pine needles.
Now I had a decision to make. Do I stuff the branches into the garbage can or do I make it more interesting. The matches on the toolbox cried out to be noticed.
On my patio in the backyard, my small barbecue grill looked lonely and unused. When I opened the hood, remnants of ash swirled around in the wind. A small spider emerged from a dark corner and crawled around the rim of the grill. I went back to the garage and grabbed the gasoline can. Just a splash to be sure I could get the fire started was all it took. I let it soak in to the ash bed. I went back to the garage, grabbed the matches and a small handful of tree branches.
I gently placed a few branches in the grill, stood back and looked at it for a moment before pulling a match out of the matchbox. After putting the rest of the branches far away from the grill, I struck a match against the matchbox and tossed it into the grill. Whoosh! The flames jumped up almost instantly, barely contained by the grill. The pine needles crackled and popped and fizzled and fizzed. The small pile of branches turned to ash almost as soon as the fire reached full intensity. I grabbed another pile and threw it in. Whoosh! Again, another ball of fire strived to escape the grill. A large plume of smoke bellowed into the air. I wondered what the neighbors would think. I halfway expected a fire truck to arrive. I wondered if the fire would melt the siding on my house. I moved the grill further away to the edge of the patio. The added distance between it and the house made me feel safe.
I must have made five or six trips into the garage and back to the patio, slowly diminishing the pile of tree limbs, until all that remained was the trunk. Each time I added a pile to the grill, another Whoosh sound, and then ash. Quickly I ran back to the garage, grabbed the jigsaw, and now, wielding it like a pro, sawed into the thick trunk. I could only cut halfway through it, but it was enough to be able to jump on it and snap it in half. Just small enough to fit into the grill.
By the time I got back to the grill, the fire had died down so much that the two pieces of tree trunk would not burn. Even after spraying some WD-40 on the trunk pieces, it wasn't enough to engulf the pieces in enough fire to get them burning thoroughly.
Alas, the tree trunk pieces are still in the grill today. I am tempted to add a little gas and start it up again. A fleeting memory of Beavis and Butthead flashed through my mind; "Hee-hee, hee-hee, FIRE! FIRE! hee-hee..."
If this is my last post, I was consume in fire. Just remember, I had fun.. wicked fun.
