Saturday I almost died I think, and I am suspicious that my cousin, who I was helping, had a plot in mind to finish me off and make it look like nothing more than a “green” accident. Years ago – as a younger man – I made a living climbing up steep hillsides and cutting brush while fighting forest fires, and I emphasize this key point – this was as a younger man. I carried heavy hose packs, dragged hose, and shouldered backpumps all while climbing long, rocky, steep hills in smoke and 100+ degree temperature. Saturday, I climbed up this steep little hill, in 60 degree weather, in the shade of the trees, and dragged brush down to a burn pile for about 3-4 hours, although I’ll take the fifth on actual duration – the spots before my eyes made it tough to watch the clock. And after my years of sitting behind a desk doing what I am currently doing, writing, my old cardio system wondered just what in the hell I was putting it through. The payoff though made it all worthwhile in the end because my cousin who owns the hillside he was trying to kill me on, cooked up a meal of filet mignon, crab legs, and a variety of other artery clogging and sumptuous food that I am quite positive could finish clogging arteries that – if my gasping and clutching at trees on the hillside was any indication – were almost closed off anyway. I am now convinced that he will wait no longer than two weeks for the saturated fat of the meal to glue itself to my arteries and then I’ll be invited back to help clear more of the hillside when I will go down for the count and lay like a carp on a hot sidewalk sucking at the resisting, earthy air of that slope.