Watching The Fire During Hippie Thanksgiving

My sister hosted Hippie Thanksgiving this year, Saturday. There, we had turkey, green bean casserole, a cheesy potato dish, a variety of pies, deer meat, a big bonfire after the meal and I don't know what else. I was a little drunk later that night. Details are fuzzy.

Most everybody contributed something to the festivities. Could have been food. Could have been an alcoholic concoction. Could have been a funny joke or story. Could have been a jab to the kidneys. Who knows?

It was a great time. Got to talk to friends I hadn't seen for half a year to a year. We talked about politics, idiotic thieves, throwing friends in the bonfire and -wait- Did I just say throwing friends in the bonfire? Well, we talked about it. There was a time when we would all get nice n' fucked up and actually tried sending a friend or two into the flames of hell. One of them, in particular, was Gerk. Throughout the years, he's been singed by the fire a good number of times during our parties. Either his feet or his crotch have tasted the heat of the fire every now and then. Oh, how he'd scream. Heh heh. Yes, good times.

Sometimes, we would set unopened cans of baked beans or whatever we could find upon the hot coals in the pit. Sure enough, they would explode, sending shrapnel and showers of bubbling hot bean particles upon our drunken asses. Before the impending explosions, a few of us would run behind trees. Others would flee behind the huge propane tank that sits only twenty feet away from the fire pit. Some of waited patiently for the blast to hit us in the face. The anticipation was as thick as crusty pudding.

Pass the whisky and moonshine please. Don't want ta be feelin' it. Ka-Pow!

What fun!

But we're all old now. Our tribe of friends are in their late thirties to mid 40's. We've outgrown those stunts, for the most part. Kind of sad. Kind of expected. Now we only make threats of roasting Gerk in the fire. He laughs nowadays, knowing he is safe from that scenario. That, too, is sad. I miss all of us chasing him down, viciously grabbing hold of every wriggling limb and carrying him to the pit.

Aside from all that, it was a relaxing evening this past Saturday. My friends and I sat close to the fire, watching it, mesmerised by the flames. It was cold. Around 20 something degrees. But that didn't matter. All that matters is telling old stories, sharing laughs with friends and watching the fire.