I am officially an old man. Or the day the blog was derailed by me investigating neighborhooid drama

One of the few occasions in which I actually miss being a newspaper man is when there is something going on that I want to know about and information hasn't hit the Internet yet. Like right now there is a helicopter circling over my apartment, it has been for about 15 minutes, and I can hear the occasional siren in the distance. I keep going out on my porch, but I can't see any smoke and I can't hear a whole lot of commotion. Now, If I were still at the paper I would have a police scanner at my disposal and would probably have a good idea of what was happening. Then I would hop in my car and chase the chopper until I got to the scene. At the very least I could call the police and say 'I am a reporter with so and so, I am just looking for some information on what is going on..." Then the person on the other end would tell me that there is no information at this time and they cannot comment to the press and someone would send a press release in a few hours or so at which point I would slam down the phone and mutter something along the lines of "God I hate this fucking job" and go get some breakfast.

As I write this a second helicopter joined and the noise is quite loud. They are directly above my apartment. I am now afraid that a fugitive is hiding in my garage. I need to investigate further.

Of course, as I just walked to the back of my apartment to see if there is indeed a fugitive taking refuge in my back yard, I looked out my bedroom window and realized something is on fire less than two blocks away. Like, really on fire. We're talking Back Draft on fire. Black smoke, flames, drama. Good job assuming the incident could only be taking place in front of your apartment, Dan. Idiot.  Soooo.... I'll be right back. You don't need to be a newspaper reporter to drive around the block and see what is on fire. Even if it is only 9 degrees out...

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Ok, I'm back. And because this is not a live blog you have no idea how long I have been gone. But it has been close to an hour! An hour standing outside in 9 degree temperatures watching someone else's house literally burn to the ground. It was exciting! There were bystanders! And slutty news reporters freezing to death and getting wet with residual fire hose spray! There were confused old people trying to drive through police barriers! I even saw a few of my old newspaper coworkers making upwards of $32k a year to stand there with me. It was all very nostalgic and I now sit on my warm couch smelling like a mid-July bacon cook off and charcoal pig roast and I am suddenly hungry for grilled meat and longing for the 4th of July when my wife will no longer be pregnant and we can drink beer with our friends and it won't be 9 fucking degrees out anymore. If anything, I stood near the burning house so long because it was about 3-4 degrees warmer there.

Seriously, though, it does suck for the people who live in that house. Although, a quick check of some online property value numbers (reporter instinct) has the home listed as being worth between $360-$400K, so I am sure they have some pretty solid insurance. That's about all the sympathy I can muster up for anything these days.

Here is a dramatic cell phone photo.

Also, I can't remember if I have ever mentioned my neighbor, Bobby, who is a town firefighter. Bobby is the one who grilled me on my background the first day I moved in, got my name and place of employment and then immediately forgot who I was, introducing himself to me again about 6-months later. He is the guy who I am convinced is completely losing his faculties, mainly because I frequently see him raking and then hosing off the street in front of his house. Anyway, Bobby has been out of commission recently due to an accident he suffered on the job, and he has been awfully dramatic about it, too. He walks around with a cane now and sparks up conversation with everyone who strolls by his house. C'mon, Bobby.

Here is a photo of Bobby sadly sitting in his truck watching the scene unfold at the fire. It almost felt like I was watching some divorced father with a restraining order watch his son play little league from behind the outfield fence. I bet he went home after this, cracked a beer and spent the day speaking coarsely to his family and watching game shows.

As I have been typing this I have begun to realize just how old of a man this makes me seem. I am kind of Bobby-like right now.  Av is in school until noon, so I had the morning to myself. Usually I spend this time laying in bed and reading articles on the Internet until I fall asleep. Also an old man thing to do. But not today. Today I had big plans. Right after I dropped Av off I went to the gym. It was 7 degrees at the time. Yup, I went to the gym and it was under 10 degrees out. I deserve double calorie points for that. I had an apple for breakfast. I NEVER eat breakfast. After the gym my plan was to come home and write a nice blog entry in which I probably would start talking about the holidays and then get derailed in to some sort of angry rant or dig deep in to the darkest area of my mind to share my self loathing and depression over being an ultimate failure in every aspect of life. But then that house burned down! So I wandered out like a 75 year old man who spends his days in a chair in front of his window watching life happen, in search of neighborhood gossip. I told the Channel 4 news guy which direction to point his satellite. I sent a text to my neighbor who lives on the other side of the neighborhood to inform him about the fire. I gave another news person directions to the nearest Dunkin Donuts. I shook my head and said things like "too bad" or "such a shame" to other old people standing on the sidewalk. I told them stories about fires I remembered seeing when I was working at the paper. I tried to see how close I could creep to the scene before someone told me to back up (the smoke got to me before the fire department needed to). I was just straight up being an old man.

Eventually I got too cold and came home, sat back down, had a cup of coffee to warm up and put on the Price is Right. So, there that is. I didn't even shower after the gym. Now I don't have time. Now I will enter my daughter's school, the same school that my wife works in, smelling like a combination of a locker room and a house fire. All for you! Congratulations, reader! See, productive mornings and house fires ward off self loathing. I am even considering someday returning to the journalism industry. It can be fun from time to time. You know, when you aren't getting paid $40 a story to cover whichever garbage your editor can't get to that week. Then again, houses don't burn down every day. I could stand to avoid wasting my time listening to city councilors pontificate away my Thursday nights for $420 a week again. Working with stupid, idealistic college journalism snobs and wearing Old Navy pleated khakis. Stupid... There I go with the rants. Why don't you do a word search and calm down, Grandpa.

Oh. And the holidays were nice. Av got all sorts of toys and things and basked in the joy of her final Christmas as an only child. Although, half of the crap we bought her will be re gifted to the boy when he is old enough to appreciate it. I mean., I am not buying every Thomas character twice. I'll just wrap it up again, right?

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