“Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be pyros.”

Written by Bakersfield Magazine

I was around six or seven when I encountered my first flame.

I’d been eying her for days and, man, was she neat. I’d been cooped up for weeks in the apartment we lived in, and after hours of begging, Mom finally gave in and agreed to let me go outside to play—on one condition (“Stay away from the fire!”). A construction crew had started a barrel fire and was burning old scraps over the course of the week to keep warm while they did various construction-type stuff.

“I promise, Mommy.” And the rest, as they say, is history.

I ran outside and made my way to the burning goddess, inching my way closer and closer to my new-found “love.” I circled the barrel, hypnotized by her graceful curves, comforted by her warmth, mesmerized by her ever-changing colors and there, in the center, I spotted an odd-looking piece of wood. I looked around to make sure “the coast was clear,” and grabbed said wood with both hands. Wrong!

Had I not been so blinded by young lust, I probably would have seen the red embers underneath the white ash that made up the majority of my new and, sadly, short-lived “romance.” I’d been burned, yes, but I was hooked.

In another dalliance, a tick had burrowed itself into my leg while I was playing out in a field. Upon arriving home, doing what all good moms do in these situations, she freaked! At the neighbor’s advice (thanks Big Ed), she doused my leg with rubbing alcohol—no luck. The second thing all good moms do in these situations, is take a hot match and touch the head of it to the tick in hopes that it will back itself out. Of course, all good moms are suppose to make sure the match is completely out before applying it to any part of the body that is soaked in rubbing alcohol. Needless to say, from that day forward, Dad was in charge of getting rid of any unwanted critters (can you say flambé?).

These were only a few of the many liaisons I would have with the dancing devil; setting a couch a-blaze and jumping bicycles over it like some kind of crazed Evel Knievel; strategically placing crumbs to entice ants out of their homes and lighting them up a la Apocalypse Now; and, of course, fireworks! But I won’t go into details here...to protect the innocent and stuff.

What is it about fire and flames that attracts us? (“Us” being man, and by “man” I mean men, and by “men” I mean M-E-N!)

In case you hadn’t noticed, this is our Annual Man Issue and in honor of the species (and playing with fire), we have a fantastic story on men and their grills—a love story, so to speak. Turn to page 43 for all the burning details. We also have a great story on the local motorcycle squad of the California Highway Patrol on page 39. We were fortunate enough to get Gordon Lull to write a story on big game hunting and the local chapter of SCI (page 35) which, much to our surprise, includes many women among its members (because the world doesn’t just revolve around us men, right?). This is also our Medical Specialties Issue (starting on page 51) and we have several interesting and informative stories pertaining to your health.

And, as usual, we have all of our great regular features. It’s another outstanding issue of your magazine. Enjoy! And then go out and burn something...carefully.

Article appeared in our 27-2 Issue - June 2010