Other Things Worthy of Your Time
Campfire Thoughts
1/12/03
I've never been one to believe in the Evolution of Man. I find it depressing for anyone that perhaps the most intelligent race in the universe came from a pack of apes that rolled a stone and somehow created fire. But how fire does still have so much meaning in our far from apelike -- at least sometimes -- society.
I went camping recently, out by a lake (or a reservoir—to further support the success story of man) and enjoyed it. It was just me and the boys and though we could have turned it into a drunken, homosexual bash, no women, thankfully, means no party.
The day before we prepared: gathered a carload of wood, which is still lasting as I speak. We went into the bustling city (and for once it really was bustling, there was a fair this week) and got some more essentials: bug spray, baseball cards, and a DVD. Although the pack of cards was utter shit and we've yet to watch the DVD, the bug spray has been quite the lifesaver.
After a few more stops home we picked up sleeping gear—no tents, we were getting the full rugged experience, besides the fact it's been hotter than hell. We also picked up some food and some sticks to put the food on. The area around the lake is a prairie wasteland.
Getting there, we swam in the lake, hiked a couple miles (much uphill so we'll say a hundred) and finally broke out the wood for the fire.
It was a curious thing: an older friend of mine (older friend - makes him sound like a middle aged perverted man that likes to tag along. He's 18, for the record, and damn proud of himself for it if you ask anyone) tried to stack up the wood and start the fire, but I seemed almost threatened by it and so with excuses like harsh wind and other fire hazard bullshit, I put it off for an hour, when I could be around to have part in the miracle working.
We were talking about Castaway -- on the lake, in nature, naturally we would -- the film with Tom Hanks and the volleyball. Although I supported my favorite line as "I know you. I know you." as he recreated his only companion in the volleyball, Wilson, the line "I, have created fire!" (--or something like that—as I said, it wasn't my nominee anyway) came up.
Maybe that was man's greatest gift, the ability to say, "I, have created fire!” because with it becomes the ability to survive, and that is a fair candidate in its own.
The ability to create fire also comes with a feeling of strength and leadership, in a primal man, rolling stone sort of way. My older friend had stacked the wood, and in delaying him, I had added the kindling, to feel the part of the job. He, being the oldest, and having the largest need to be leader, tended the fire, but I, ultimately, was the one to light and create fire. This had a strange meaning as the fact tending the fire felt important, for my companion, supported it.
As far as I know, besides the family dog, no other species on the planet has learned to make and use fire such as we. The fact that we are the keepers of the flame gives our race a place at the top. I just had a ten-minute stare down by a small calf that would jump every time I moved my body whatsoever. There was a developed fear of who would someday kill and enjoy a burger off this animal, using fire.
The fire is going out and everyone is ready to go. I'll cover the fire and feel the same feeling after not only creating fire but controlling it, and putting it out. We'll travel in our molded metal and seats, pushed by fire, and moving on top of our four, rolling stones.
NOTES
I wrote this in a notebook smaller than my hand at about 6 o'clock in the morning in the middle of the prairie. It wasn't very good.