Tag Archives: burned

Bunsen Burner

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Bunsen burner: (n) a small adjustable gas burner used in laboratories.

I certainly hope we’re not going to be evaluated, judged or memorialized on our hidden fears. They’re hidden, right? Just where they should be.

It happened to me this morning when I read the words “Bunsen burner.” I found myself suddenly terrified, with a little tingling in my bowels.

I did not realize I had this memory of a Bunsen burner which is–pardon the expression–seared into my consciousness.

I was a sophomore in high school and arrived late to chemistry class on a day when Bunsen burners were going to be used for some experiment. I think we were going to take a beaker of fluid and warm it under the Bunsen burner to see what happened to the consistency–yet the exact purpose is beyond my recollection.

But because I arrived late, I ended up with the Bunsen burner due for retirement. The teacher warned, “Be careful. That one’s a bit tricky.”

Since I had never used a Bunsen burner before, I didn’t know what would make one temperamental. So I got it all hooked up, released the nozzle or whatever you do to get it to light–and it didn’t. I turned it off and tried again. No luck.

I looked to my teacher for help, but he purposely averted his eyes as if he did not want to deal with this particular apparatus.

I was about to try a third time, reaching over, and suddenly the Bunsen burner decided to come alive.

I burned my hand.

I was pretty sure it was third degree, but was later told by my doctor that it was just a scorch. But it hurt like hell, though I’m not sure why hell would hurt–or maybe I am.

After all, it’s a place of fire.

Like a Bunsen burner.

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Boxer

Boxer: (n) a person who takes part in the sport of boxing

In 1976, I went out to see “Rocky” when it first came to the theaters.Dictionary B

I had never thought about boxing.

Matter of fact, I had a disdainful view of it, as some sort of practice by “ignorant folk from the poor side of town.”

But Rocky changed everything.

Watching two well-oiled men pummel each other made me wonder what it would be like to buy some boxing gloves and just goof around with them. So a friend and I picked some up at a local sporting goods store, (by the way, they were quite expensive) and cleared out an area of his garage to simulate a ring and decided to find out what it was like to “get punchy.”

We started slowly.

It went along pretty well. I punched him in the arm, he punched me back in the mid-section, and I was thinking, this is really no big deal.

All at once he took a swing at my face. His glove made contact right in the middle of my nose. I could have sworn that it was driven back into my brain, where it lodged and refused to return. It stung, it burned, I couldn’t open my eyes, and blood started pouring out.

My friend was horrified, apologizing in every manner he had learned during his very proper upbringing.

I finally got the bleeding stopped, but it was two days before I got rid of the headache.

I don’t know why people want to punch each other in the face.

But I will tell you that it is not pleasant–and is not recommended for anyone who might discover he’s a wimp.

 

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Ballpoint Pen

Ballpoint pen: (n) a pen with a tiny ball as its writing point.Dictionary B

In the pursuit of proving my maturity by adequately sprouting a jaded attitude, I must stop off and admit that many things in life get better.

Once we survive the tenuous nature of invention, the comical attempts at prototypes and the initial product being launched into a market, needing in no time to become “new and improved,” we still often end up with many things that thrust us forward to progress humanity.

This illustrious beginning is presented to you from my wacky consciousness to discuss the ballpoint pen.

I was around when this creature emerged from the deep lagoon of office supplies.

My first memory was the Bic.

It came in a package of 7 or 8.000 (I exaggerate). It was a thin, clear tube with a pen stuck inside, a black stopper on the bottom and a plastic cap on top.

These pens were notorious for writing for about 15 minutes and then either leaking at the tip or ceasing to perform the function, while simultaneously taunting you with visible ink which refused, for some reason or another, to come out–like a spoiled teenager stuck in a room.

One of my friends had the brilliant idea that these cheap pens could be brought back to life by placing the tip underneath a match, thus reopening the surface for use.

It actually worked. I should say–it worked if you were patient and didn’t overheat the pen.

Because I was not so patient, I began to have a bizarre collection of Bic pens around my house in various stages of 1st-. 2nd- and 3rd- degree burns. Some were even melted beyond recognition.

They were cheap enough that you could just go out and buy more–but for some reason I had this sinister desire to scorch them. My friend who made the original suggestion did very well at just barely touching the tip with the flame, to re-engage penning.efforts.

I always went too far.

So I can truthfully say that in my lifetime, ballpoint pens have improved–except for the fact that the last time I used one, it opened up and the ink leaked all over my hands and made me look like a criminal … who had just been fingerprinted.

 

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Aflame

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Aflame: (adv.) in flames; burning

I really don’t sit around and question if there was a Snow White and if she befriended seven short chaps with various personality quirks. I try to have enough sense to catch the essence of the story–the meaning of the tale–without having to verify the veracity of the characters involved.

I bring this up today because I was thinking of a story from the Good Book about a burning bush. According to the folk-lore, Moses saw one in the wilderness which also talked to him, relating the details of a mission and a great odyssey. I suppose if you are intent on proving that everything must have actually happened in order to acquire wisdom from it, you are probably so jaded that you mock this situation as completely implausible, and therefore worthless.

But since I tend to believe that the stories told in the Good Book were related to give us a quick snapshot of the heart and mind of God, I am able to read them without cynically rejecting them, because I deem some factoid to be ridiculous.

What strikes me about this story of the burning bush is that when God decides to speak to one of His children, He feels no compulsion to kill even a random bush to achieve His conversation. For that’s what it says: the bush was on fire but was not consumed.

I like that.

After all, in our day and age, it seems that people are unable to achieve the sensation of being “aflame with desire” without burning out.

Can we not agree that passion is passion–whether it’s emotional passion creating empathy, spiritual passion that generates compassion, mental passion, which pursues knowledge, or physical passion, which activates a lust for romance?

In all of these cases, if we learn from the story of Moses and the burning bush, we must realize that our Creator never intended us to burn out just because we’re aflame.

What I have become in the nature of things, through the pursuit of happiness and in the acquisition of multiplying my talents, is a crock pot instead of a barbecue pit.

In all areas of my life, I burn. I’m aflame. Whether I’m going to the grocery store or writing this essay to you, there is a heat and a passion that is involved and at work. But it’s a slow cooker.

  • I never take myself too seriously.
  • I never purge my soul with incrimination.
  • And I refuse to chase dreams without possessing good cheer.

I want to be a bush that burns without being consumed. I want to be aflame–to give off light and share my warmth without threatening others with fiery consequences.

There is much to learn from stories, whether they be from the Good Book, Mother Goose or Stephen King. And here’s my thought:  if we want to understand the heart of God, we will learn how to play with fire … without getting burned.