A long stretch there, so thanks for bearing with. I’m back on the usual routine now. I hope I didn’t lose too many of you.

I’ll catch you up slowly, but first something of priority.

I had a talk I was supposed to give at a big conference on Friday, 2/1/13. My talk was scheduled for 11:30a. While chatting with some attendees, at around 11:15a, I got a call from the NYFD.

“Mr. Duck?”

“Yes?”

“Hi Mistah Duck, this is Eddie Fredick over at New Yoak City Faiya Department. I’m calling’ because we had to enter ya apaatment trew da front doah because ya balcony was on faiya.”

“My balcony was on fire?”

“Yeah, da balcony was on faiya, can you tell me what it was you had out thea?”

“Sure, uh, plants, mostly dead, a couple chairs, a table thing…”

“Yeah so all that is gone, did you have anything combustible out theya, maybe some kerosene or something like that?”

“No…. wait, my balcony was on fire?”

“Yeah, ya balcony. Ya balcony was on faiya. Now what did you have out thea? It was no small faiya Mistah Duck, everything on that balcony is burned to a crisp. Also ya air conditiona had to be pulled out because it was on faiya too, so dat’s toast.”

“Wow. Are the other units OK? Any damage to the inside?”

“I think you bettah get down hea and we can talk about the rest of all that. Because we had to smash ya doah down, you might wanna get someone hea to protect the place until you can replace it.”

“OK.”

So then it was 11:18a. My phone rings again. It’s my neighbor calling to tell me my place was on fire and that she’s headed over there now. I asked her if she could hang out there until I could get home so no one goes into my place and she said she would.

11:25a. Should I race home or go on with my talk?

11:28a. How bad would it be to skip my talk?

11:29a. I wonder if the Xiphos, my beloved first metal guitar, is OK.

11:30a. “Good morning everyone, thanks for coming to my session. Today I’m going to tell you about…”

And that was that. Somehow I was able to push away the fact that my place was on fire and deliver an hour-long talk about assumptions in education. In hindsight, I am unsure if that was the right decision, but it sure made for an exciting talk.

As soon as it was over I tore for home to check out what had happened.

And sure enough.

My balcony was a crispy, putrid, charred, gunky, nasty mess. My place smelled like a tire factory and my furniture was all pulled away from the wall facing the balcony. The balcony itself was littered with burned and melted chairs, a burned up table, a pile of melted plant pots and the remains of 4-5 tall plants and inches of soot.

While coming to terms with what had happened and trying to guess at all the possible causes, I called a locksmith to come and replace the one the fire department smashed apart.  I was told not to go out to the balcony until after the fire marshal came to investigate, under penalty of law. So while I waited for the locksmith I stood in the doorway of the balcony and took in all the damage.

To be continued…