Published: September 10, 2008 03:24 pm            

VALLEY: The fireside chat

There’s something special about a bonfire. I’m not talking about a raging inferno that accompanies a pep-rally or a keg party; I’m referring to the intimate blaze that acts as a genteel host to those who respect its powerful ambiance and ability to bestow a sense of camaraderie to all in its presence.

When we’re on the river, it’s an obligatory ritual of camp life to gather tree limbs, left homeless by winter’s wrath, and available driftwood to serve as a combustible centerpiece on our property’s shoreline. Family, friends and neighbors gather to pay homage to the day’s end with an informal ceremony — the bonfire.

All participants succumb to the reverence and honor that one should afford to such a powerful force. Negativity is totally unaccepted in any shape or form. Everyone is there as one; everyone is in the same boat — so to speak — and everyone gets to drive that boat. Conversation is the boat to which I refer. You can follow up on what the previous speaker was talking about or you can abruptly change course — no one cares!

No one cares because the verbal discourse is a relatively low priority compared to the fundamental tenet of a bonfire: relaxation. The most inane chatter has no effect on the therapeutic power offered by nature’s force. And, if I may, I submit to you an actual transcribed account of a recent gathering as an example of the lack of verbal depth required for such an occasion.

Neighbor Chuck: Can I get anyone else a beer?

Wife Kathie: Look at all the stars! I heard that you can actually buy a star or have one named for you or something like that ...

Sister-in-law Diane: How can someone sell a star? Nobody owns them to begin with.

Brother Tim: Good point, Diane. I think I’ll call that outfit and tell them that I own half the universe but we can settle out of court if they send me $20. I’ll agree to forfeit all rights to them.

Chuck: Anybody else want another beer?

Brother Mike: I bought an American flag yesterday.

Sister-in-law Deb: Isn’t my husband the patriotic one?

Mike: The damn thing was made in China and the manual was in Spanish!

Friend Bob: That’s why they call them “manuals” — most of them are in Spanish.

Bob’s wife Sandy: Bob, that “manual” joke wasn’t funny. And, it wasn’t funny when Tom used it in his column six months ago.

Yours truly: Thanks, Sandy. That really cheers me up.

Chuck: While you’re up, can ya get me another beer?

Diane: That grilled chicken was delicious.

Deb: It sure was. I like anything grilled like that.

Chuck: Beer?

Deb: I never tried grilled beer, Chuck.

Chuck: No! Will you get me one?

YT: Aren’t you close to your limit, Chuck?

Chuck: Hell, no! I want to hear more about the China that Mike bought in America. And, Mike, you said it came with Spanish food?

Tim: Chuck, are you interested in buying a star?

Chuck: Isn’t there a red star on a Heineken label?

As the night came to conclusion, the bonfire had worked its magic. Chuck secured another six-pack of stars and all participants had attained a nirvana-like sense of fulfillment. Arriving as individuals and leaving as kindred spirits, the meditative result was the direct product of the bonfire.

In Chuck’s case it was a medicated result.

And, for now, that’s the way it looks from the Valley.

Tom Valley is a Medina resident. His column runs every Thursday. Write to Tvalley@rochester.rr.com.

        

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