Things I won't do three times

We've all had moments in our lives where we've sat back and thought to ourselves, "Geez, I won't do THAT again". Well, every now and then, you run across something that you just have to try twice, just to prove to yourself the first time wasn't a fluke. You know, a non-repeatable, random occurance. A 1 in go-gillion event that couldn't possibly ever happen again. Or maybe the thought just enters your head that, you did it wrong the first time, the next time has just got to go better. Well, here is an example of something I won't try thrice.

Drop a lit match on gasoline.

Here's one you'd just think would be common sense, right? It just reaks of, DUUHHH, no ones that stupid. Who in their right mind would bring together gasoline and a lit match. It's common sense. Oh contraire mon ami.

You can burn brush in my town from January to May. Being a "real man", I just have to have my yearly burning pile. Not too long ago, I had a big pile, time on my hands, matches but no kindling to start the fire. What's a man to do? Well, I have a tractor. The tractor has gasoline. And gasoline burns. Ergo, I have an excellent fire starting opportunity. It's a little damp outside, it's drizzling. The wood's wet, but gasoline burns easy. So I quickly formulate a plan and set about torching the brushpile. I have my rake, I have my hose, I have a helper (the wife), I have matches and I have gasoline. Actually, I have a match. Only 1, but that's all I need. So I soak down the end of the pile with the gas, light the match and toss it in. A glorious fire insues. It was beautiful. All warm, and red and crackly. Did I mention it was "drizzly". After a few minutes the fire starts to go out and soon there's nothing but glowing embers. What's a real man to do? I only had 1 match. In a moment of brilliance, I devised another plan. I figure, with a charcoal grill if the fire goes out, you just soak a non burning section of the coals, then make a raceway between the embers and the newly soaked coals with the lighter fluid. Sure it smokes for a little bit, but after a while it lights, and you have fire. BRILLIANT !!!. I have a plan. and the plan is pure GENIUS. So I soak the other end of the brushpile and make my "raceway" by splashing gaslione on the burning embers. Here's where the plan fell apart. The insuing explosion and fireball knocked me back a few feet. I wasn't prepared for this eventuality, and in an instant of thinking only of self preservation, I dropped the gas can. I dropped the gas can into the raging gasoline soaked inferno. At this point, I started doing the "Happy Dance". You know the jaw is pumping up and down, but no sound is coming out, the legs are moving is variuos directions, but I'm standing still. After a second of "dancing" I yell at the wife GIVE ME THE RAKE !!! She yells back, "NO, GET AWAY FROM THERE", and starts to shield the rake form my grasp. In as calm a voice as I can, I try to explain to her that, if I don't get the gas can out of the fire it's going to EXPLODE. I get the rake and flick the can out of the fire. Now I should explain something about the gas can. It was an old can. And old cans were round. After I flick the can out of the fire, it started to roll around the front yard, fire licking out of the spout setting the lawn on fire as it went. The lawn started to look like the top of a Hostess cupcake. Interlocking circles of burnt lawn. It was gloriuos. I again yelled at the wife. This time yelling for the hose. Again, she yells back "NO, GET AWAY FROM THERE", this time she adds "YOU DON'T PUT WATER ON A GAS FIRE". Trying to be as calm as I could, I tried to explain, that I wasn't putting water on the gas, I was cooling off the gas can because if I didn't it was going to EXPLODE. Well, I get the hose, the can cools down, the brush pile again goes out and all the gasoline I had is now gone. I looked at my wife, she looked at me, our eyes locked in an embrace I'll not soon forget. That look said, "boy, you are dumber than dirt". She went in the house, and not a word was spoken. Two weeks later, she let me back in.

Lesson learned? I bet you'd like to think so.

I have a tractor. One day the tractor wouldn't start. After tinkering around for a little bit, I discover the gasoline is full of dirt. I siphon the gas out of the tank, clean up the carberator and fuel line then fill the tank fresh gas. Viola, the tractor starts and is running like a top. But now I'm left with 5 gallons of dirty, useless gasoline. How am I going to get rid of the dirty gas? (no skipping ahead now). I figure, I have a stone driveway. The last couple of times I've worked on the carberator, I've dumped the gas from bowl in the driveway and burnt it to get rid of it. Little blue flame, not much else. What the heck, might as well do the same for all this gas. I pour the dirty gas on the driveway. Not all in one spot mind you. I walk up and down the driveway to spread it out. I have about a 25 foot stripe of dirty gasoline now down the middle of the driveway. Then I drop a match on it. At first, all was going according to plan. A little blue flame. I think to myself, "not bad, not messy, not much fire. This is good". As I'm having this thought, the fire grows. Soon the fire is as tall as I am. Now I'm thinking, "uh oh, this isn't good". As I look at the fire I notice a billowing cloud of jet black smoke rising into the air. I think to myself, "someone's gonna see this" Soon the fire is easily 15 feet tall. And there is a slight breeze. So the fire is leaning slightly to the left, it's walking itself across the driveway and across the lawn. I break out into the "happy dance". I have a 25 foot wall of flame, 15 feet tall, billowing jet black smoke thousands of feet into the sky burning its way across the lawn. Quick like a bunny, I race to the house to get the hose. I go running back to the fire, hose in hand only to find out, the hose won't reach. I started misting the portion of the fire I can reach anyway. In a short while, the fire goes out. I'm left with a 25 foot section of the driveway scorched black and a huge arch of lawn, burnt right down to the dirt. And I think to myself, "I wonder if the wife will notice this"? I go in the house and wait. And she comes home. And she notices. And she asks, "What happened to the driveway and lawn?" I did my best to look surprised and answered, "What?" She says, "The driveway's all black and 1/2 the lawn is missing". I respond "REALLY???, I wonder what happened?" She asked me to go outside and look. My plan to deny everything and act like I didn't know what happened was working. Yesssss. I'm going to get away with it. The plan, it was flawless. Until she spotted the 5 empty milk jugs reaking of gasoline.

I couldn't even put gas in the car after that. Oh sure, eventually she started talking to me again. I'm not allowed around fire any more though; I can't even use the grill.