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Bit of a fright Friday evening. First there was the parade of fire wagons strung out down Lake Mathews Drive. We can see them from the deck you know. Then the rumbling drone of low flying aircraft. Followed by the faint stench of acrid smoke and the smoke signals rising behind the ridge I sometimes walk too.
Stevie Crown (battered gray fedora, trench coat, Dick Tracy watch, flask of Crown Royale bulging in his hip pocket, works for Darth Vadar and the Dark Side) was up for some quality real-man time with TWC at The Club.
In the end, though, despite Kos' legendary prowess, Stevie is going to win. Oh, you have no idea, Stevie even drank Amphetamine Annie under the table. Every time. Even that time she and I nearly went through the glass doors together. While they was closed. She gave that all up though. The drugs, the booze, the guys, the Marlboros. Gave it up for Jesus. Good thing too. Her looks were fading faster than her health.
Monday Bonus Two:
I get a little antsy and excitable when there's fire in the air. Figured I ought to take a look to see for sure if I'm drinking wine on a Friday night or if I'm packing photos, dogs, kids, kitties, and computers into the politically incorrect foreign truck that's made in America.
We rolled up Lake Mathews Drive to the plateau and Boy Howdy! There it was. Close by, but not that fearful. Very little wind, thank the Lord for small favors.
The awesome pilots had that six acre inferno extinguished inside of fifteen minutes. The kids were awestruck. We were this close. TWC snapped amazing photos, up close and personal, of lumbering planes jockeyed like fighter jets, barely clearing the phone wires. A perfect sunset, tinged by flame and smoke, P-3 Orion framed against the golden setting sun, red fire retardant plumed across the flames. Pulitzer photography.
But wait. The idiot with the camera forgot to change the settings and the pictures were woefully and irreparably underexposed. Drat.
The upside? Got to drink some wine. Review Mañana.