The horrible smell of a burning house is unique.
A campfire has a singular smell, a pleasant aroma of burning timber. But a house, it has wood and much more. You could say that the foul smell of memories makes it different, but I’m sure that most experts would cite the combustion of plastics, paint and rubber that makes a house fire smell so terribly disturbing.
When waking at 3:30am to that smell, it’s hard to ignore. Someone’s house is burning, but is it yours? I walk around my house looking out of windows and see nothing. There’s a glow in the sky, but it seems to be that perpetual orange that cities throw into the night.
Wrong, wrong and wrong.
I feel a bit derelict in duty, you might say. You know, especially since it was just a few blocks from my house. We at the Journal Star missed the entire thing, thanks to the lack of a uber-early morning shift. The first photog arrives at 7:30am, with the last leaving at 10pm. WEEK-TV has a 4am shift, fitting perfectly with this. Bah.
After nearly a month of being negligent with my Netflix subscription, I’m back! May was a difficult month, but I’m ready to start blowing through a queue full of great flicks. Suggestions?
And in case you never noticed, at the bottom of this page are quite a few links that change almost daily. These are the things I spent my time reading. And so should you.