Last night I slept in Transient Tent #3, near Four Corners at BAF. It's actually not as bad as it could be. Usually those places always smell like feet, but the tent is drafty enough and the ceiling is high enough (perhaps 20 feet at the peak) that we get good airflow.
Last night, while we all slept soundly, dreaming of a universal healthcare plan that wouldn't bring an end to human civilization, the smoke alarm starts blaring. Obviously there's no smoke or fire. Perhaps the carcinogens rampant in the swirling dust have set it off. Since it's on a tent ceiling support pole 12 feet in the air, no one can get to it to shut it off. The Soldier in the cot across from me takes one of the cross beams from his cot, stands on a chair, and proceeds to beat it to pieces. I must admit, that did solve the problem, at least on one level.
I told him to write himself up for an award, and forge my name.
30 August 2009
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