That image over there
Taken by a 2 1/2 year old who is fascinated with cameras.
But. This blog is not about 2 year olds with a penchant for photography.
It's about local rules and customs. Things that aren't written down anywhere, yet everyone know them just the same.
In this case?
You gotta have a body on the pit to save it.
What does that mean?
That we all want a fire pit on Saturday night. We would all LOVE to dump a burned (yes, burned chair) and 3 pieces of firewood at 8 AM and have our pit be there when we show up at 6 PM.
That's not how it works my peeps.
This is how is works:
"Dudes! Let's have beach bonfire!"
"Cool Man, who's gonna go get the pit?"
"I will man. I'll hang out. Can someone else come at noon so I can pee?"
"I'll see if Charlie can"
"Does anybody have any pallets"
"Dude I think Sean does"
"Call him willya?"
And so it goes. With community effort a bonfire is planned.
The next morning, the first guy goes out early and stakes claim on a pit. Charlie shows up at 1 (really he's not showing at noon. we all know that) First Guy pees and starts calling everybody telling them that
"We're near lifeguard tower 6" (he neglects to say which of the 3 Huntington Beach Beaches he is at so everybody gets stuck guessing and paying more for parking than necessary BTW)
They have maintained a body on the pit for the entire day. Indeed..it is their pit until they fully vacate.
Enter those of us that do last minute shit.
Looking for a pit.
We spy an open pit with aforementioned burned out chair, and 3 pieces of wood.
We ask around to the residents of the adjoining pits to see if anybody had seen someone at that pit at all.
A resounding NO.
I think well, it's not uncommon to forget chairs, and generally if you have wood left? you don't haul it home. You leave it. At the pit. It's just y'know...one of those local customs.
There hasn't been a body on this pit for hours.
The pit is fair game.
We get our stuff, set up, clean the pit of various and sundry pieces of broken glass ruining a plastic shovel and brand new bucket in the process.
I'm pretty sure only dogs could hear the first few syllables it was so high pitched.
"That's our fucking ring.you can't do that you can't take other peoples rings"
As I'm trying to recover my hearing, I try to nicely, politely explain "Local Rules". You gotta have a body on the pit. EVERYBODY knows this. I never got to the we would be happy to share part...
(I would also like to note that we are ALREADY moving our things)
More shrieking. We left our wood this morning! We cleaned the glass. (Um. No. Would you like to see the melted shovel and the glass? I'm pretty sure *I* just removed the glass)
And then the shrieks turn to cursing around our 2 year old AND her 10 year old.
I ask her not to use that language in front of the young ones.
(Yes, I am a potty mouth. But not around 2 year olds that are repeating EVERYTHING. I had kids, I know better.)
Shrieking to the effect she'll talk any way she wants.
And now her husband gets involved.
Deep Voice..."Whoa, that's right Bitch Whoa...you can't do that"
Meanwhile, we're still moving our stuff, while I'm trying to calm them.
There was some shrieking about cooking and fires and what have you...It was so loud and high pitched(And really, someone louder than me? It's been said that would NEVER happen), with intermingling Low "Whoa's" I didnt' get all the words
(My brain? Fried because it can't follow all the octaves flying all over the place)
They did try to make a fire, but it was more just smoke and embers.
Illicit alcohol that dad kept going and getting out of the car, and cheetos.
Whether your in Sunny SoCal or South Africa.
You gotta respect the local customs.