Robert P. Herbst
12-08-2007, 08:01 PM
SMOKING
Written December 8, 2007 Fiction 1156 Words
Copyright © 2005 Robert P. Herbst. All rights reserved.
by
Robert P. Herbst
Today the thick pall of smoke still hangs over Mount Perry. The very same mountain we love so dearly prevents the smoke, from recent swamp fires, from being blown away. During dry seasons, swamp fires are an ever present danger to the residents of Mount Perry, Florida. After all, Mount Perry is surrounded by 15 miles of impenetrable, morose swamp on all sides.
During times of drought, the water covering years and years of accumulated vegetation recedes and exposes this material to the hot drying effect of the sun. There is not only the vegetation to concern us, but the years of accumulated waste material washed into the swamps during the wet times. There is a huge accumulation of motor oil alone, washed in from the five roads allowing access and egress to our beloved city.
Naturally, during these times of stress, our fearless elected leaders race to the protection of their bunkers so they can emerge unscathed after the disaster and begin governing again. Exactly who it is they intend to govern, if there really is a disaster, is a question we all ask ourselves.
In this case, our fearless elected leaders have emerged from their bunkers a bit too early, probably because they were running short of some of the luxuries they have become accustomed to. Now, here they come out of their bomb proof bunkers, paid for with our tax dollar, only to find the smoke still hangs like a dark cloud over our beloved mountain and town and the population still milling about in the choking smoke. I suppose the biggest shock was to find there were so many of us still alive.
In any event, they decided the smoke was the lesser of two evils, at least on the outside they were able to, once again, enjoy the luxuries we have paid so dearly for with our tax dollar. They returned to their plush offices and began passing meaningless laws, no one could possible enforce, to garner votes in the upcoming elections. After all they had to put on a show of assuring the people of our town they were doing something about the awful choking smoke from the burning swamps around us.
They poked finger holes in the air while denouncing smoke in public places and even outlawing smoke in the privacy of one’s home. They would protect us from this lingering menace no matter how much it cost us or hurt our rights to privacy. A bureau of smoke control was immediately formed, smoke control agents were appointed, at tax payers expense, and these agents were armed with sophisticated weapons to make sure they could enforce the new smoke control laws flooding the books.
Yet with all their good intentions, no one did a thing about actually putting out the smoldering inferno causing this pall of smoke in the first place. The fire department did not have vehicles which could navigate their way over the mud under the burning vegetation to get to the fire and extinguish the problem at the source.
The Mount Perry Air Force was powerless to help as the thick smoke prevented them from taking off with their water bombers to drop water on the fires. Estimates indicate, there is enough vegetation in the swamps, because of political mismanagement and conflicting laws, to keep our swamps burning for the next ten years. Controlled burning could have helped if implemented in the very beginning, but the beginning was set back by political corruption and bribery.
The dry burning vegetation acts like a wick drawing the accumulated oils out of the mud so they can smolder and compound the problem of the burning vegetation alone. There just seemed no answer to the problem until we could get one good heave drenching rain, yet here again, local laws prevented rain except between the hours of 2:00 AM and 4:00 AM. Our fearless elected leaders had made laws against the very thing we needed for our salvation.
So, on this day, as my little gang of experts gathered for their morning coffee in my shop, the topic on every tongue was, “What are we going to do about the swamp fires?” Naturally the first thought was of our fearless elected leaders and their recent reappearance.
One popular idea was to herd our fearless elected leaders back into their secure underground bunkers, dynamite the bunker, and use the depression as a new public swimming pool. After all, the money we’d save on graft, corruption and unnecessary taxation would pay for the construction of the pool with enough left over to live tax free for the next 100 years and build roads out over the swamps so the fire department could put out the fire.
On the other hand, the immediate problem was the thick choking smoke. I turned on a special filter to take the smoke out of the air in my shop and we all got down to a very serious discussion of what to do about this problem. No matter what we came up with, there was no acceptable answer except to grit our teeth and let the fire burn itself out.
For the next ten years we’d just have to put up with this problem unless it rained and rained hard. Yet there was one among us who remained silent with a look of complete puzzlement on his face. Yodar Hoopelhoffer, the Mount Perry town idiot, had yet to voice an opinion. His first thought, as always, was for the betterment of the quality of life in our town. He suggested:
“Why don’t we bottle this smoke and sell it to places where there are no swamps to burn? Why should we be the only ones in the United States to have all this smoke from these burning swamps? Wouldn’t it be educational to open a bottle of smoke in a classroom so all the children could experience the stench of a real swamp fire? Just think of the money we could make.”
This idea was short lived, but there was a heated discussion about how to deal with the smoke. In an effort to obtain current information about the fire, I turned on my TV and opened a News Channel. The first thing on the screen was a lengthy commercial about “No Smoking Patches”. Silence fell over the group as this idea sunk in. Our swamp covers an area of some fifteen miles from the base of our beloved Mount Perry.
Calculators and slide rulers came out around the table as one and all fell to the task of figuring out how many “No Smoking Patches” it would take to cover the burning swamp fire, after all they did guarantee it in writing, if smoking didn’t stop within thirty days or you’d get your money back.
Written December 8, 2007 Fiction 1156 Words
Copyright © 2005 Robert P. Herbst. All rights reserved.
by
Robert P. Herbst
Today the thick pall of smoke still hangs over Mount Perry. The very same mountain we love so dearly prevents the smoke, from recent swamp fires, from being blown away. During dry seasons, swamp fires are an ever present danger to the residents of Mount Perry, Florida. After all, Mount Perry is surrounded by 15 miles of impenetrable, morose swamp on all sides.
During times of drought, the water covering years and years of accumulated vegetation recedes and exposes this material to the hot drying effect of the sun. There is not only the vegetation to concern us, but the years of accumulated waste material washed into the swamps during the wet times. There is a huge accumulation of motor oil alone, washed in from the five roads allowing access and egress to our beloved city.
Naturally, during these times of stress, our fearless elected leaders race to the protection of their bunkers so they can emerge unscathed after the disaster and begin governing again. Exactly who it is they intend to govern, if there really is a disaster, is a question we all ask ourselves.
In this case, our fearless elected leaders have emerged from their bunkers a bit too early, probably because they were running short of some of the luxuries they have become accustomed to. Now, here they come out of their bomb proof bunkers, paid for with our tax dollar, only to find the smoke still hangs like a dark cloud over our beloved mountain and town and the population still milling about in the choking smoke. I suppose the biggest shock was to find there were so many of us still alive.
In any event, they decided the smoke was the lesser of two evils, at least on the outside they were able to, once again, enjoy the luxuries we have paid so dearly for with our tax dollar. They returned to their plush offices and began passing meaningless laws, no one could possible enforce, to garner votes in the upcoming elections. After all they had to put on a show of assuring the people of our town they were doing something about the awful choking smoke from the burning swamps around us.
They poked finger holes in the air while denouncing smoke in public places and even outlawing smoke in the privacy of one’s home. They would protect us from this lingering menace no matter how much it cost us or hurt our rights to privacy. A bureau of smoke control was immediately formed, smoke control agents were appointed, at tax payers expense, and these agents were armed with sophisticated weapons to make sure they could enforce the new smoke control laws flooding the books.
Yet with all their good intentions, no one did a thing about actually putting out the smoldering inferno causing this pall of smoke in the first place. The fire department did not have vehicles which could navigate their way over the mud under the burning vegetation to get to the fire and extinguish the problem at the source.
The Mount Perry Air Force was powerless to help as the thick smoke prevented them from taking off with their water bombers to drop water on the fires. Estimates indicate, there is enough vegetation in the swamps, because of political mismanagement and conflicting laws, to keep our swamps burning for the next ten years. Controlled burning could have helped if implemented in the very beginning, but the beginning was set back by political corruption and bribery.
The dry burning vegetation acts like a wick drawing the accumulated oils out of the mud so they can smolder and compound the problem of the burning vegetation alone. There just seemed no answer to the problem until we could get one good heave drenching rain, yet here again, local laws prevented rain except between the hours of 2:00 AM and 4:00 AM. Our fearless elected leaders had made laws against the very thing we needed for our salvation.
So, on this day, as my little gang of experts gathered for their morning coffee in my shop, the topic on every tongue was, “What are we going to do about the swamp fires?” Naturally the first thought was of our fearless elected leaders and their recent reappearance.
One popular idea was to herd our fearless elected leaders back into their secure underground bunkers, dynamite the bunker, and use the depression as a new public swimming pool. After all, the money we’d save on graft, corruption and unnecessary taxation would pay for the construction of the pool with enough left over to live tax free for the next 100 years and build roads out over the swamps so the fire department could put out the fire.
On the other hand, the immediate problem was the thick choking smoke. I turned on a special filter to take the smoke out of the air in my shop and we all got down to a very serious discussion of what to do about this problem. No matter what we came up with, there was no acceptable answer except to grit our teeth and let the fire burn itself out.
For the next ten years we’d just have to put up with this problem unless it rained and rained hard. Yet there was one among us who remained silent with a look of complete puzzlement on his face. Yodar Hoopelhoffer, the Mount Perry town idiot, had yet to voice an opinion. His first thought, as always, was for the betterment of the quality of life in our town. He suggested:
“Why don’t we bottle this smoke and sell it to places where there are no swamps to burn? Why should we be the only ones in the United States to have all this smoke from these burning swamps? Wouldn’t it be educational to open a bottle of smoke in a classroom so all the children could experience the stench of a real swamp fire? Just think of the money we could make.”
This idea was short lived, but there was a heated discussion about how to deal with the smoke. In an effort to obtain current information about the fire, I turned on my TV and opened a News Channel. The first thing on the screen was a lengthy commercial about “No Smoking Patches”. Silence fell over the group as this idea sunk in. Our swamp covers an area of some fifteen miles from the base of our beloved Mount Perry.
Calculators and slide rulers came out around the table as one and all fell to the task of figuring out how many “No Smoking Patches” it would take to cover the burning swamp fire, after all they did guarantee it in writing, if smoking didn’t stop within thirty days or you’d get your money back.