Backyard BBQ Bonfire

BBQs & Bonfires :: The Afterparty

Friday, July 12, 2013 Kenny Muzzey

Personally, I feel like the best part of summer is that old snap, crackle, and pop. No, I am not referring to Rice Krispies, but rather the fizzling, crinkling, and twinkling of a bonfire. There is nothing better than sitting around a warm fire, roasting marshmallows, hot dogs, having a few ice cold drinks, and enjoying the company. I could not think of a better way to kick back and finish up that summer BBQ than with a relaxing fire.




For me fires used to be symbolic of the weekend, summer, a time to breathe easy, collect myself, and reflect upon the week. Often times I could not wait to get off work Friday evening, because I knew what I’d be doing. It never seemed to get old. The fire would get started around nine and it was almost as if the sweet smell of the smoke floating carelessly onto the moonlit horizon would cause the regular crowd to drift on over.




As the night grew darker, the stars brighter and the fire hotter, people would come and go and in the end, it was the same six people watching the smoke saunter away and the embers fade to black.

Sometimes the group would be smaller, no more than three or four people; other times, much larger, upwards of ten to twenty people. Good times were always to be had.  Oddly enough, no ghost stories were told here.  However, personal anecdotes, tales of travels, humorous happenings, and reminiscence of revelations were frequently topics of discussion. The fire was an open forum of ideas for whatever interested you.

That is not all there was to offer however. Sure, the company was always great, but every once in a while we were served something special.

On occasion, Cj, who more often than not, hosted the fires, would cook over the open flames. He would serve up chicken legs and wings that had been smothered in Louisiana Hot Sauce. Everyone sat in silence with their mouths watering as the chicken sizzled.  You could feel the bite of the hot sauce as you inhaled the delicious aroma, the speechlessness eventually being broken by someone impatiently asking “Are they done yet!?” Nothing complimented the heat of the fire, and bite of the hot sauce better than an ice cold beer. Cj would be kind enough to supply his guests food and beverage; the guests in return would also contribute a variety of food and drink themselves.




Following the feast, things always seemed to quiet down as people’s stomachs settled and some would be lulled to sleep by the distant sounds of coyotes howling, the brisk breeze rustling through the corn, and the snap, crackle, and pop of the fire. That was when it is time to head home, that was when it is time to call it a night.

Shout outs to the regulars, Cj, Kyle, Lizzie, Ryn, & Steph.

~Kenny Muzzey~

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