Where There's Smoke, There's Fire

“At the age of six I wanted to be a cook. At seven I wanted to be Napoleon. And my ambition has been growing steadily ever since.”

- Salvador Dali

Unlike Dali, the Random Roadtrippers never wanted to be cooks or Napoleon. Nor did we ever aspire to have crazy date-wax mustaches or consider paradise “lying naked in the sun covered with flies like a piece of carrion.

We did, however, all once aspire to becoming firemen. And what boy doesn’t? Firemen are big, brave, brawny, and drive awesome red trucks.

However, women take note. For most boys, the dream doesn’t die when we reach maturity. For we 20 and 30somethings, the lionization of firefighters post-9/11 is a recent and deep-set memory. And every time our girlfriends giggle about “walking past the fire station,” we cringe a little because we could all have been just as awesome if we’d just chased the dream.

That perhaps explains why – in the city of Elvis and Civil Rights – Ben chose the Fire Museum of Memphis as Day 5’s first stop. Located in downtown Memphis, the museum occupies two buildings of an old fire station. It is, also, as we soon discovered, exceedingly popular with school groups. Want to imagine the scene for yourself. Take 50 seven-year-olds, 200 pixie sticks, Barney the Dinosaur, combine and stir. The kids were so out of control that a kindly fireman suggested that perhaps we might enjoy the exhibits on the next floor until the group cleared out. Though, in fairness, Ben did a little shrieking of his own when we found Ol’ Billy, the life-size animatronic talking fire safety horse.

When in Memphis, go to the Fire Museum. They have fire trucks. They have toy fire trucks. They have a fireman’s pole that you can slide down. All nourishment for the inner boy. And after a thoroughly grown up evening the night before, eating racks of dry rubbed ribs and taking in a Beale Street blues act fresh off an appearance on the Voice, it was just the five-alarm call to our soul that we needed.