I can’t think of any clinical tools in hospitals today made out of wood nor expect any in the future. Don’t worry, you’ll never get a wooden hip implant unless your orthopedic surgeon is Dr. Geppetto. Maybe during the Wild West surgeons operated on wooden kitchen tables, but other than mahogany office furniture everything today is plastic or stainless steel. Yes, there are lots of paper products still, but even the patient gowns feel like you’re wearing a giant Bounce dryer sheet. Although we’re surrounded by wood everywhere else, petroleum based supplies are here to stay in healthcare no matter how much effort is made to reduce our carbon footprint. Disruptive change is essential to innovation, but sometimes the resistance runs deeper than water.
My Grandfather Jay Lawson was in the paper business running mills in Wisconsin, Pennsylvania, and finally in Ticonderoga. On the other side of the house my Grandfather McMahon developed refineries for American Oil in the US and overseas. He later built his own home heating oil distribution company in Chatham, New Jersey. Oil was a big deal in our house. Like everyone else, our house in the Adirondacks was heated by good old heating oil right up until the Arab Oil Embargo in the early ’70’s. When the price of heating oil shot through the roof my Dad took it upon himself to replace the oil burner with a wood boiler to heat the house. That’s when hell on earth fired up right out of the cellar. My mother was livid that he abandoned sacred oil for wood so she’d let loose a daily barrage of never ending protests – the water was too hot, the smoke dirtied the drapes, the dry heat wrecked her sinuses, etc. Her biggest eye poke was my brothers and I had been forced into prison labor hauling, splitting, and stacking firewood like peasants in a Soviet gulag. The outrage eventually subsided when gas prices normalized and the peasants escaped the Gulag for college. My mom did have the final dig against wood burning – she christened our Samoyed dogs with Russian names, Cebaka and Mischa. Nyet.
In spite of these awful memories, I still enjoy the warmth and radiance of a campfire; for me it brings quiet reflection on what I’ve seen and new hope for what I haven’t. What I didn’t know all these years was campfire smoke makes your hair smell. How would I know? My hair has never been long enough to sniff, especially after being wiped out by chemotherapy. Diane, always a champ, likes campfires, but hates re-shampooing her hair the next day along with changing burnt oak infused bed sheets. When we built our house in Naples a few years ago, I suggested a wood burning fireplace for the living room, but the CEO nixed it with a fancy electric halogen flamed fireplace complete with bluetooth controls. Channeling my mother, I wheezed and whined about the modern fireplace and declared it would never be used under my watch..
Last week I was in New York at the house with friends and family enjoying the Autumn weather complete with campfires outside and fireplaces inside. Several times during the week I walked past the silent wood boiler with an armload of firewood which rekindled fond memories of The Gulag period. Returning this week to Florida I re-started my early morning routine – poured the coffee, fed the cats, grabbed the remote by the TV, and fired up the halogen fireplace flames like I do every morning. Am I no longer true to my word or worse yet am I a Benedict Arnold turncoat to campfires? No, I just don’t want the drapes getting dirty, my sinuses drying up nor God forbid, smokey smelling hair. Slainte!
Cindy as well, hates the smelly clothes and hair. I discreetly installed a fake fireplace last year into the old woodburner. After surprising the fam with the new ambiance during the holidays, everyone poopooed my new wares. Cindy bought firewood scented candles! WTF! Hope you’re doing well Pete. All the best to you my friend! Dean Koliboski
Dean, it’s better to burn real wood and let everyone complain. Pete
Hey Pete: Enjoyed reading that last post on campfires. We’re at our TN house until Jan and just cut about a cord of firewood from dead/downed trees on our property (actually they were downed trees from our neighbors lots that fell onto our lot…sorry it’s my wood now) for some great campfires in the next couple of months. We’ll definitely be thinking of you and your post as we tryout out new fire pit.
Mark, great to talk with you the other day. I’m glad you’re keeping the home fires burning. Pete
Pete, As a kid, we were told that wood would warm you many times (cutting it up, splitting it, stacking it, carrying it inside to the woodstove and finally burning it.
Another great anecdote! Was great to run into you and Diane at the airport. Continued best wishes to you both!!
Building a campfire is a lost art, so teach your grandkids all about it
Great story that’s so relatable! 18 Full cords per year. Cut and hauled from Crown Point and then bucked and split (by hand) in Lake Placid. Fond memories of time with my Dad. Funny how Pop got a wood splitter when I went off to College in 79!
Rick, so you too worked in the Gulag. Pete
Mr. Pete…you can’t possibly know if your hair is long enough to sniff…your nose can’t reach to the top of your head. That’s not a thing. Most likely it has that element of smoke in it…and I’m guessing if you asked Diane she would declare it as a smokey smell. But…it’s ok…hopefully you wash it out accordingly.
I also love campfires….and I think that’s Cash’s favorite part of going to the U.P. In Brimley. He gathers the wood and tends the fire. There is something magical about peacefully staring at the flames…and pondering life. Except when the smoke comes in my direction. But… my sister said that if I said “White rabbit” three times in a row…the smoke will shift. FYI ~ it never does. But I still try it to this day…and it makes me laugh at myself.
In case you are wondering…I really want a fire table for my lanai. But…even though I’m 46… my parents told me I’m not allowed to have one…because Cash might set the house on fire. These are the same people who put him in charge of the campfires in MI. So…I hate to say it…but they actually think that I am the one who would set the house on fire.
Whatever. 🔥
P.S. ~ It looks like you had a great time with everyone. 😊
☘️🪳❤️
Elisa, the solution would be to get Cash the fireplace table for Christmas; you’re parents can’t argue about that. Pete
Love outdoor fires, but agree with hair and clothes. And remember smokers in bars! No different and yes I was one of them! But Chatham NJ; we need to talk😎
Grace, Chatham is a rough neighborhood, so I’m sure you have stories. Pete
OK, eliminate one- sorry
I look forward to your blog each Wednesday–insightful, interesting, and amusing. Thanks! Have you ever listened to Bishop Robert Barron- Word On Fire. I think you’ll click! You Tube…)
I’m glad your a reader; I’ll definitely give Bishop Robert Barron a view. Best, Pete
I l
Love your writing- insightful, inspiring, amusing. Try listening to Bishop Robert Barron, Word on Fire. I think you’ll enjoy his talks. (you tube, etc)
Brings back memories of my grandfather’s house that was heated by coal. I couldn’t wait to see the coal delivery truck, really cool to see it running down the chute to the basement. Thanks for sparking a memory.
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a coal truck, but it had the same effect as burning wood. Thanks for reading and commenting. Pete
Fortunately, our friend Jameson is an enjoyable companion with any kind of fireplace. Now marshmallows … that may be another story!
Mike, I built a outdoor fireplace in OK and the first night we had marshmallows along with a ton of booze. By midnight a marshmallow fight broke out between the adults, all the children were in bed. The next morning I looked out the window with a cup of coffee in my hand and viewed the carnage in the lawn. The only thing I could say to myself was, “Jesus.” Pete
Great one Pete. I taught my sons how to light a “one match” fire. Looking forward to teaching my grandchildren.
Building a fire is an art and I’m glad you’re passing it down. Slainte.
We need a book! Enjoyed your fossil fuel story. In Naples we have a fire place that can be either. Wood burning will never come in our house …. It belongs outside with outside
Voices. Except the ones in my head.
Karen, never is a strong word. I’ll need to talk with Jim about getting some wood into the fireplace. I have a contact that will deliver and stack. Christmas present? Pete
Who doesn’t love a campfire 🔥!!! What a great story and so glad you enjoyed your time visiting Fall!!! Stay well!!!
Fran, I remember being at your old house and Chris making bonfires that could burn down most of Oviedo. Pete
Pete, nothing has changed, smaller house, still blowing shit up!!!🔥🔥
This was a fun one, Peter. Married to an Eagle Scout who loves an old fashion campfire, a bit of a pyromaniac if you ask me. I’m like Diane- having to rewash my hair is a pain! 🔥 v 🛀
Stacia, pyromania is one of the new Eagle Scout patches in 2023. Pete