I picked up a duty shift at the firehouse on Saturday. Papa Smurf, the Rat and I spent 16 hours protecting the citizens of Hometown. It was a weekend, so something was bound to happen.
We did the daily checks on the rig. We did the weekly checks and the monthly checks. We opened the bay doors to let the fresh air in and let the citizens know we were on duty. We cleaned. We checked the other rigs. We mounted some new equipment. We reorganized.
It was a weekend, so something was bound to happen.
We went out for lunch. We ordered hot food, took it back to quarters, and ate it in a leisurely fashion. We unzipped our boots.
It was a weekend, so something was bound to happen.
We set up a home theater system using a laptop, the training room projector, and Netflix. We watched a couple episodes of Rescue Me. We started the Emergency Management generators to exercise them. We fueled and started every portable saw in the building.
It was a weekend, so something was bound to happen.
We took the engine out for fuel. We couldn’t get Ladder 49 or Backdraft on Netflix, so we spent almost three hours ridiculing Towering Inferno. While watching Steve McQueen crawling around in the ventilation ducts, we had a good laugh over the image of him running into Bruce Willis. Then we watched Die Hard.
It was a weekend, so something was bound to happen. (Please?)
We watched an old training video. Then we watched a Holmatro sales video from 1982 and a CPR video from 1987 just for laughs.
And finally with 20 minutes left in the shift, the tones dropped. We got out late. Such is life in public safety.
Notes from Mosquito Hill 