| The Last Great Male Bonding Ritual written by Lane Hudson |
| One of the great male bonding activities, cooking over a grill, is starting again. A cookout is one event where it is still acceptable for women to stay inside and men to gather outside. Maybe it’s the blowing smoke. Maybe it’s the lingering charcoal smell in your clothes. Maybe it’s the lame male jokes. How do I know it is a guy thing? When friends come over for a cookout, it’s the women who ask “What time is dinner?” The men, on the other hand, always ask, “What time is Lane going to light the fire?” When I grill, my neighbors drag out their hoses and soak their roofs and bushes with water. (They complain that their insurance premiums have gone up since I moved into the subdivision.) Even the fire department has asked that I call them before lighting my grill so they can anticipate false alarm calls from people across town who see my billowing smoke and flame. Now, I’m not talking about cooking on a sissy gas grill with little knobs to control the flames. I’m talking about a recreation of the universe in my own backyard, a reenactment of “The Big Bang Theory.” The creation begins with carefully stacking 15 pounds of charcoal into a funeral pyre. Then, after discarding the squirt cap and directly pouring so much lighter fluid onto the charcoal that it drips through the bottom vents of the grill onto the ground, I am ready. (A grass fire can add that extra excitement to a party to make it memorable.) Lighting the fire is a four-step ritual. First, to steady pre-fire jitters, the men get a second, or third, cold drink from the cooler. Second, they form a circle approximately 20 feet across, with the grill in the middle. (Based on previous accidents, and melted lawn furniture, 20 feet is safe.) Third, with their raised hands, the men begin a countdown: 5-4-3-2-1. Then, amid cheers, I toss a lighted match like an Olympic torch from outside the circle. Perfect aim is not required, because there is so much gaseous byproduct from the half gallon of lighter fluid, any spark within five feet creates a swooshing sound as a flame erupts skyward, singeing all tree limbs lower than 25 feet. Yes, it is a magnificent fire. We stand in awe. Once again, we have an earthly recreation of the beginning of the universe, of “The Big Bang Theory.” Then as the flame dies down, we watch mesmerized by the slow smooth burning of the funeral pyre that crumbles and gives life to tiny suns and stars in the gray dust pit of the grill. We are godlike in our creation of fire. In our silence, we know how early cave man felt, and we men have bonded once again. After counting those still standing, we say “Amen” in unison, thankful again no one is going to the emergency room. I think building a good fire is like being in love. What starts with a great quick flame, has to die so that the real creation can begin. True love is not in the flash of first heat, but waiting in the slow, smoldering embers that remain; coming to life and providing heat when life’s rough winds blow. Who knows, maybe I’ll invent a lighter fluid scented perfume. In the meantime, it is getting late and its time to burn some meat. Where is the number for the fire department? |
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