Two things.
1.
One of the 101 classes I teach is comprised solely of Commerce students. We discussed an Ambrose Bierce story today. I took this opportunity to bring in
The Devil's Dictionary and gave a handout with some choice excerpts, among which I highlighted the entry for "commerce":
COMMERCE, n. A kind of transaction in which A plunders from B the
goods of C, and for compensation B picks the pocket of D of money
belonging to E.
Some of my students are sociopaths. I have no doubt these students will find the most success upon graduation.
2.
I really wanted some popcorn at home tonight. I plugged in the top-loading electric popcorn machine and filled it generously with kernels. I then headed out onto my deck into the night (great winter stars) and down the steps to the laundry room located in the basement of my building. Upon re-entry into my apartment, I was met with a lot of black smoke and a foul odor.
My popcorn machine had become a flaming molten gimp. The great soup pot I'd naturally placed to catch my popcorn was black as a cauldron, full of rank fire. Flames moved across the bubbling laminate counter and, worse, licked up my cupboard reaching for the ceiling. My kitchen was on fire.
At this, I reacted with four simultaneous thoughts, each holding equal importance in my mind:
Is that slender little fire extinguisher attached to the wall in this apartment or the last one I lived in?, Water!, The bloody smoke detector is going to go off!, Man, I really wanted some popcorn!
In the end, the second thought in the above list proved most helpful. But my apartment reeks. I have three fans going in the direction of a door to the frigid outside. My cat is leaping around from thing to thing like a flying squirrel. And my once sun-yellow cupboard looks like a miner's lung.