We Loved FIRE
We absolutely loved lighting stuff on fire. Honestly, my friends and I regular reminisce to this day about the crazy things we used to light on fire. We’ve almost got in serious trouble many times for the stupid stuff that we put a flame to. Often in groups of friends you have the person that’ll do anything, the watcher and the organizer. I was normally the person that’d be almost anything, my buddy Pete was the organizer, and Dave was the watcher. When it came down to fire, the roles changed… All of us wanted to light it!
Just a few fun things we did with fire while growing up:
- Almost caused our school to go up in flames
- Made home-made napalm
- Created home-made gun powder
- Siphoned the gas out of our stove in a balloon which exploded in the sky (learned that one on the anarchist cookbook!)
- Smoke bombs in our neighbor’s mailboxes
- 1/4 Sticks of dynamite miscellaneous activities
- Fire Crackers galore
- Bottle Rockets
I’m surprised we never got an arm or a leg blow off, killed, arrested or in serious trouble.
Best of the Best Fires
You heard that right – we made napalm. Napalm is actually quite easy to make, because all you need is gasoline and Styrofoam. You mix them together, and the gasoline slowly dissolves the Styrofoam creating a much thicker liquid. The liquid is just as flammable, but lasts a lot longer. It seems like it also burns hotter. We’d often go to the neighborhood country club to use our concoction. We’d check the area to make sure there was no one around, and then sprint over to one of the holes. Quickly we’d pour the napalm into the hole, light it on fire and run to a safe location to watch it burn.
The next day the golf team would always have a serious problem on their hands. More often then not they’d have to replace the hole itself. They deserved it though – it was a WASP country club that didn’t allow Jews or Blacks. They got what they deserved.
I can remember those early days hanging out on my buddy’s trampoline like they were yesterday. It was middle school – the drama days. There was so much drama, uncertainty, and nervousness for everyone else in middle school. Maybe it was just me, but I felt like those high school days were a lot more difficult. I spent my days in 6th, 7th and 8th grade doing some really stupid shit. Admittedly, some really fun shit, but some really stupid shit.
The Trampoline was one of my favorites. As I hinted to in my about page; I got the name Bisti from my sister making fun of my Misty Flip. I was practicing my flips on my neighbors trampoline. My neighbor would always raise a fit whenever she found me on the trampoline. I lived in a upscale neighborhood, and a rich community. My next door neighbor didn’t really care if I got hurt or not, but she worried about my lawyer father suing her if I did. She would call my house everyday, and complain that she caught me playing on the trampoline again.
My mom was the coolest mom in the world. My mom would never say no to me, because she didn’t believe in it. She knew it wasn’t worth it to argue with me about going on the trampoline. So she didn’t – and the lady next door would call everyday. The next day I’d be on it. Heck I saw my first pussy on that trampoline when I invited my girlfriend over to play on my friend’s trampoline. Well it wasn’t exactly my friend’s trampoline, but it was close enough.
Days after school
Everyday after school my friend’s and I would have the same routine. We’d do one of four things.
- Pete’s house for the trampoline
- Mountain Biking around town
- Hack into people’s computers at home
- Light stuff on Fire
Pete’s house the place to be! We’d jump off his garage to land on the trampoline, and then do flips. I was never great at flips, but I had my high jump down. I could project myself in the air higher than anyone else. Nor Pete or Dave would be able to catch Bisti in an air born battle. I was also quite the wrestler, but I would always hurt somebody. One day we were wrestling after a long bike ride on the trampoline and I broke Dave’s leg. It was a total accident – I swear.
We joke around about how swollen Dave’s knee was after that day and the fact he roller-bladed home. Sure enough he was on crutches for the next three months. I don’t think Dave’s parents were a huge fan of me. Heck there was nobody’s parents in town that were a huge fan of me. We were a mess in middle school. Those were fun times. The Trampoline was just the tip of the iceberg.