The world is on fire, again. As I type this blog post, I’m separated from a murky, smoke-filled valley by some sticks, panes of glass and sheetrock. What a lousy way to celebrate the commencment of the 90th season of America’s favorite gladiator sport. (No, not Pyramid or Murder Ball. I’m talking about the NFL.)
Fire season is upon us. This is the time of the year when I’m most likely to languish in grim thoughts of Armageddon and cast my arms toward the fiery red ball in the sky while brimming with despair. So why should this year be any different?
Then I realized, fire itself gets to the heart of it.