SUCKING FLAMES

During the summer between my third and fourth years of elementary school our family moved from American Falls, Idaho to Long Beach, California. Any fears I had of being lonely or sad were soon alleviated as I was welcomed into the neighborhood by the local boys. This, along with the acquisition of my first library card and entering into the wonderful world of biographies started a chain of marvelous summers which continued through my years in Long Beach. The demographics of my Monday through Saturday crowd changed rather dramatically. In American Falls there was no change of relationships for all seven days of the week. In Long Beach it was obvious that my Sunday buddies, who always seemed to be a plague upon those assigned to be our Sunday School teachers, were generally going to be different from the boys I would play with during the week. In Long Beach, on Sundays I was surrounded with common church boys, but during the rest of the week, except for a brief break for our weekday Primary gatherings, I was in a very ecumenical group. For the first time in my young life I was running with boys whose families either didn’t profess a religious preference or were Jewish, Presbyterian, Catholic and the new kid who was a Mormon. I suspect there were more persuasions represented, but a cloud sometimes obscures memory.

It seemed like most days we were up early, readied ourselves for the day, had a bowl of cereal, knocked out our chores and then we met and spent the day in an agenda-less pursuit of fun and excitement. There was ball playing on the vacant lot behind the drugstore at the top of the block. It was always a challenge to see if we could hit the ball off of the back wall of the store building. There was also a fig tree on the lot which we took advantage of between innings. We had little respect for boundaries or fences as our war games were filled with pursuits over fences, climbing up on garages and jumping off the roofs, running through back yards and setting up traps in everyone’s landscapes. They were wonderful days, filled with the feelings of freedom which come when one isn’t burdened with the worries of sustaining the necessities of life for oneself or others.

One day shortly after Easter Sunday we were feeling a little bored with the usual agenda-less activities and so we decided it would be fun to break in a toy corn cob pipe one of the buddies had received for in his Easter basket. Looking back it seems like a very unusual basket surprise. Anyway, it was unanimous that we needed to blacken the sparkling bowl. Since we didn’t have any tobacco to stuff into the pipe we decided that the green grass which was always placed in our Easter basket for filler would burn well in the pipe. This was before they started using that phony plastic stuff for the artificial grass and were using green paper which had been cut into thin strips and crumpled. We packed the artificial paper grass into the pipe and then by some perverted logic it was decided that the new Mormon boy should have the privilege of the first drag on the pipe. Flame was placed over the bowl of the pipe and I took a full deep drag and pulled the flames deep into my throat and down to where I was sure I had burned my lungs. The paper artificial grass rather than slowing the flame had actually enhanced its ferocity and I was sure I had rendered my lungs scarred for life.

Looking back I can now identify a lot of reasons why we were so mistaken in what we thought would be an activity which would add to the excitement and adventure of that particular agenda-less day. Stupidity would probably top the list. Lack of knowledge would make the list. Having a mentor on the art of smoking would have helped. Failure to future the consequences of our actions would be there of course. All in all the pain I am reminded of as I write these words makes me conclude that indeed it was just plain stupid.

As the years have passed and the buddy parade has marched through my life, I have come to realize that the one thing which is consistent in every decision I make is that there will be consequences which accompany decisions. There seem to be painful and pleasant, faulty and fruitful, blunders and building blocks, edges and edification consequences waiting on the other side of every decision. I will never be able change the reality of hovering consequences, but I do seem to have some control over what those consequences turn out to be. The future consequences seem to come about as result of the process I have used before the moment of decision making which ultimately determines the direction of my decision. Therefore, it seems logical that the more time and effort I put into the pre-decision process the better chance I have of avoiding negative consequences and increasing my chance of enjoying positive outcomes.

When I was working as an in-store merchandiser for a major flour/cake mix company I was taught that the more quickly I could get a store owner to make a decision the more likely I was to be able to fill his shelves with products which may or may not be all that marketable in his area. When given time to decide, most store owners were more apt to make decisions which would be to their advantage and not to the advantage of the major flour/cake mix company.

I hope I am learning, even if at times it seems haltingly, that there is a force in life, which is much like the major flour/cake mix companies of the world. This force would have me make quick, unmeasured, stupid decisions which will not result in long range positive consequences, but will probably fill some of my life’s moments with pain and sadness. I also believe there is a loving Heavenly Father who would have me slow down, measure at least twice and seek counsel from those who have walked this path previously; thereby increasing the probability of positive consequences filling my future days with joy and a feeling of progression.

I wish I could report that I have experienced only one flame sucking misguided adventure in my life, but such is not the case. I do find that on those occasions when I have taken time to diligently apply pre-decision contemplation, I have been saved from many lung scarring experiences in my life.