Hyperbole Rules Or Why We Love 98 Rabid Clowns

Would You Rather Be Woken By Bullets Or Firecrackers?

Ask me and I’ll tell you how I woke up at 1:53 A.M. last night to what sounded like a cross between gunfire and fire crackers. Ask me and I’ll tell you how I was instantly alert and how I sat up in bed, closed my eyes and tried to figure out how far away the noise was and if it was really gunfire.

The sirens came seconds after the mysterious noise and I got up out of bed and went to the window. I stood to the side, opened the blinds ever so slightly and looked out to see what I could see.

No people. No lights. No noise from the street below.

Rubbed more sleep out of my eyes and went to check on the children, dog growling softly we walked down the hall and discovered all was fine on the far side of the house. Soft snoring intermixed with the sound of the rainymood app made it clear they hadn’t heard anything but that didn’t fix the adrenalin that was flowing through me.

I went downstairs to confirm that all was well, checked the doors and windows and made a pass through the garage–silence reigned.

Helicopters And Sirens

Walked back up the stairs and heard the sounds of a helicopter circling and more sirens so I pulled out my tablet, turned it on and checked the local news sites.

Figured that the news probably wouldn’t have anything so I looked for a police scanner app but I didn’t find anything that seemed to work as I wanted it to.

Ten minutes had passed since I had been woken by the gunfire or firecrackers. That noise was long gone but the sirens and helicopters me wonder if there was something going on that I needed to be aware of.

If it had only been me in the house I would have gone back to sleep but the kids presence always makes me double check things so I sat on the floor next to the window and peered out again into the darkness.

Slowly started to relax and wondered if I looked like Dirty Harry or John McClane and thought about how it would be better if those old bastards wondered if they looked like Jack Steiner and then laughed at the idea of three fictional characters wondering and or worrying about what the others might think about them.

I am not a cop. Can’t say that I have much in common with the Clint Eastwood character running through the streets of San Francisco or that I have been in anything resembling the Die Hard movies.

On the other hand while I might not have stopped terrorists from blowing up a building or airport I have engaged in some hand to hand combat. Haven’t chased rapists or robbers but I have punched a guy in the mouth and a few other places. Hell, punched a couple of guys.

But let’s be honest about it. Hand-to-hand combat makes it sound like these fights were to the death and they weren’t. They were the kind of school yard brawls that get you kicked out of school now but didn’t back in the day.

Dad’s Not A Tough Guy

One of the guys once described me as a tough guy to my son but I asked him to stop. I am not ashamed of having been in a fist fight(s) but I am not particularly proud of it either.

It is just crap that happened growing up. I had a much bigger mouth than my kids and sometimes it led me places best left unvisited.

But helicopters and sirens near my home get my attention because my job as a father isn’t limited to teaching my kids how to become productive and self reliant people. Body guard is at the top of the list too.

Once I confirmed all was well here at The Ponderosa  Without a real emergency there is no point losing sleep but since I was wide awake I grabbed my headphones and turned on some music.

I’m On Fire was the first song to come on. It felt appropriate.

Closed my eyes and thought about whether I should get back into bed and blog about it in the morning but instead I wandered back into bed and let my thoughts drift.

Wondered if morning would come and I would think about it all as something like Hyperbole Rules Or Why We Love 98 Rabid Clowns or if I would find out that something bad had happened really close to home.

• Saved: Children