We have some inside jokes here at East Jesus, just like any other office or club, that only make sense when you’re here. Most people wouldn’t respond to the phrase “Fuck your face” with a bear hug. Most people wouldn’t have a clue when you end a statement with the clarification “like the sea” or sigh loudly and proclaim how much you ‘like breathing’. When you say “wizard” those people who have been introduced know exactly who and what you are talking about, but how do you explain a person laughing about hitting their head on a low beam because a short guy framed the living room?

Then each group of weekend guests also carry home with them their own set of jokes; unicorn sounds, man on a buffalo, couchman, feral midgets, etc.

There are also a whole set of jokes passed down from the original jokester himself. When someone stomps off and declares that they will be “sleeping in the wash” you know that you have hurt their feelings and should apologize. When someone asks if you have “ever stuck your dick in a washing machine?” You can reply, “Try it! You might like it!” and consider that they are trying to tell you to think outside the box.

Another perfect example would be last week when the East Jesus Fire Department had their monthly exercise. You see here at E.J. the fire department actually starts fires as an art form. Where else can you create a living, breathing creature that consumes and changes elements with such a colorful, chromatic display of power. From it’s simple birth as it struggles to find fuel and air while stretching out its’ arms to the next level above, simultaneously sending little envoys downward for stability. Some material is instantly embraced by the flames while others are at first cautiously crept around before finally being engulfed and swallowed by the fire. At times the fire can be seen to breathe , flames leaping higher or bending outward. Pulling colder air in at ground level and creating little tornadoes inside the heart before expelling its’ gassy belch skyward. The beauty of watching sparks fly upward like lightning bugs before floating into the heavens to become stars. The excitement of avoiding flaming debris that have been fired at random times and trajectories. Even the next day when the smoking embers reveal all the fantastic shapes that metal and glass can assume with a little coaxing from heat.

But my pyromaniac side has distracted me from the telling of the tale. It is important to know that with so many Alpha personalities gathered under one roof it is inevitable that there comes a competitive spirit into the course of things. We try to outdo each other in size of the fire, height of the flames, complexity of colors and how long it takes the other fire dept. to respond.

We had gathered a good bit of dry brush from tree work around the area and another truck load of splintery lumber with way too many nails to bother trying to save. We piled this on an old car frame in the garden that had acquired a good amount of rust and just needed a little char to complete its’ transformation. Using the age old secret passed down from fathers to sons we applied our lighters to certain areas and stepped back to admire our efforts. As the dead wood sprang to life for one last time we stepped back even farther to bask in the glow of accomplishment. We had brought light to the darkness.

It was just after the fire reached its glory and began the first steps down to where it fades into an even glow of coals when we noticed the sweep of headlights turning onto our entrance road. Our eyes and bodies turned to watch the slow approach. Thinking that it was probably some official come to quench our fun we waited as the window rolled down.

“NICE FIRE!”, a man’s voiced yelled over to us.

“Thanks!”, yelled back our weasel y bastard.

Then, with no further ado, the car simply drove away, leaving us to gape and gawk at each other before breaking into gut busting laughter. The desert always leaves you with a new memory.