Friday, August 11, 2006

Additional Proof of Controlled Demolition (Of a Sort)

UPDATE: Here is the twisted lump of molten metal removed from the stove yesterday after three hours' exposure to fire.


When I arose today at 1 PM, having gone to bed at 7 AM after putting together my radio show for today, I noticed a funny smell--a hot smell. It turns out that my wife Sue had left the burner going under the cast-iron flying pan for three hours after cooking her breakfast and leaving the house to set up her classroom.

If the Official Version is correct, why hadn't the pan and the stove turned to molten iron? The pan itself was undamaged, but it may need to be reseasoned. The stove, of course, was fine.

3 comments:

gnome said...

I've been listening to "I did not raise my son to be a soldier" ... I'm kind of the web-get-it-done-guy for pdx911truth.blogspot.com ... and I have a cassette tape somewhere of cuts from Rich Conaty's THE BIG BROADCAST off the air from when I lived in NYC in the mid 1970s ... and in these weeks and, maybe months, preceding world War 3 ... well, what can we hope for the future of nostalgia, and its music ...

phone 503 287 3473

gnome said...

I've been listening to "I did not raise my son to be a soldier" ... I'm kind of the web-get-it-done-guy for pdx911truth.blogspot.com ... and I have a cassette tape somewhere of cuts from Rich Conaty's THE BIG BROADCAST off the air from when I lived in NYC in the mid 1970s ... and in these weeks and, maybe months, preceding world War 3 ... well, what can we hope for the future of nostalgia, and its music ...

phone 503 287 3473

Andy said...

Thanks for listening to Radiola! (I'm assuming you're listening to the "Cheneypalooza" episode.) Rich Conaty is still going strong on WFUV--he's on Sunday night at 8 PM ET, if you want to catch his show. I never miss it.

I love this old music, and the thought that all this beauty and joy could be wiped out by a handful of megalomaniacs trying to jump-start the apocalypse is shattering to me. With the stress of living directly under the point of the Sword of Damocles, the old tunes provide a brief respite, and a sense of what humans can be capable of when they're not trying to blow each other to smithereens.

You gotta savor those occasional particles of joy. "There may be trouble ahead. . .Let's face the music and dance."