When I was a kid, I had all of the normal aspirations of what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wanted to do the various normal occupations such as  beach comber, prison mail room sorter, garbage man, bomb diffuser, septic tank cleaner, nitro glycerin hauler, cockroach trainer, landfill worker, worm farm digger,  and many other such occupations that any normal kid would desire to have when they grow up. All the other kids had very odd aspirations such as policeman, pilot, cowboy, fireman, etc.

 

One of our kid friends, Kelly M., had the odd desire to be a fireman when he grew up. I never had this particular desire since I was very good at starting fires rather than put them out. As a kid, I was a certified pyromaniac according to my mother since I was always "playing with fire". At least I would have provided job security to kids like Kelly who wanted to put out fires. Apparently, I had an additional aspiration to be an arsonist when I grew up. I certainly had the skill of an arsonist since I was always burning up various things around the place. A few examples were an antique small wooden table that was in the barn, innumerable cardboard boxes, toys, dead grass fields, weeds, tires, dirty laundry (Now that was a case of mistaken identity and not intentional), etc. etc. I believe that as a kid, I burned up just about anything burnable including some things that were not burnable. My crowning achievement was unintentionally burning down our chicken coop as a result of setting fire to the dead grass and weeds that were too close to the chicken coop.

 

Since Kelly wanted to be a fireman, he was always telling us about it. One time when he was at our place, he said we could be Junior Assistant Fireman and help out the real fire department. Of course, this did not appeal to me at all since I would rather start fires than to put them out, but I went along with it because Tim and Kelly did. Kelly said in the old days they used to put out fires with burlap bags. Even at a very young age, I was very skeptical of actually putting out fires by beating them with a burlap bag when a good broom would have been sufficient. Nevertheless, we all went into the barn and grabbed 2 empty burlap feed bags. Tim and I draped them down over the back fenders of our bicycles, which would enable us to speed to the fire department on our bikes to help them out with our burlap bags. Heck, we would never have needed to go somewhere else to put out a fire since I would have kept Tim and Kelly plenty busy putting out fires right at our place!

 

As a result of our "Burlap Fire Squad", Tim and I rode our bikes for several weeks with a burlap bag draped over the back fender. Alas, we finally took them off for two reasons. One was that we never were needed to speed to the volunteer fire department in Berlin Heights since there were no fires at that time, and secondly, we got tired of the hanging bags getting caught in the wheel spokes of our bicycles. That would have been very embarrassing for us to speed to a fire somewhere and having to stop every few feet to untangle the sacks from our rear tire spooks. Somewhere there is an old photo of Tim's bike with a burlap bag draped over the back fender, but unfortunately, I just cannot find it at the moment. Hey, it just occurred to me when we were at Kelly's place we never saw a burlap bag draped over the back fender of his bike! Since he is older then us, I'm going to have to ask him about that the next time I see him. Oh, by the way, he's the Mayor! I suspect he was putting us on and was amused at our youthful naive natures and gullibility. Aha! I can't wait until the next Berlin Heights mayoral election. I will sure have a load of mud to sling! J

 

Well, as it turned out neither Kelly, Tim, and certainly not me ever became firemen. I eventually out grew my pyromaniac tendencies. However, later on in life I did manage to "burn up" a lot of people as a result of my behavior. This is yet another talent I've carried over from my youth. I have many other youthful talents that carried over to my adulthood that I could write about, however, most of them are "classified" information! I have always been very good about keeping secrets. (It's the people I tell them to that can't).

 

Get ready fans (drum roll, please), here's another one of my (in)famous corny endings!!!!

 

What T.V.  Game show do matches always want to be on? (The "Match" Game)

 

Why did the big roaring fire beat the match in a boxing "match"? (Because the big fire was no "match" for the opponent)

 

Who is the favorite comedian of matches? (George Burns)

 

Why can't a match hold a job?  (They're always getting "fired")

 

Why did the small fire get in trouble with its parents? (Because it was too little to smoke)

 

Why didn't the kitchen matches go to work? (They were on "strike")

 

How much money do cigarette lighters make? ($10.00 a "wick")

 

What do you call a match with a bad temper? (A hot head)

 

Why was the group of matches arrested after they left the bar? (They drank too much and were "lit" up)

 

Who publishes pornographic magazines for cigarette lighters? (Larry "Flint")

 

When do matches "go out" on dates? (On windy days)

 

Why do matches join dating services? (To find old "flames")

 

What honor comes to retired matches that excel in football? (They're inducted into the Match Football Hall of "Flame")

 

Why did the match leave its job? (It was burned out)

 

Where do thrifty matches buy their things? (At fire sales)

 

Where do match babies come from? (Match factories)

 

Why did the match complain to the Better Business Bureau? (It got "burned" on a stock deal)

 

What do they call matches that are identical twins? (A matched set)

 

What warning did the mother match give to her single daughter when she was seeing a married match?  (Watch out, you're playing with fire)

 

How do matches that are strangers get to know each other? They "strike" up a hot conversation)

 

Why was the match depressed and afraid of other people? (It was burned out and used)

 

My ending seems to be longer than the story. Oh well, when it comes to writing no one can "match" me! All right, enough of my "Pun Fun".