Let's face it - finding smoke in your abode ain't fun. Finding it in the home you've sunk 18+ months worth of work into makes it even suckier. Finding electrical fire smoke in something that you wired yourself will make you wanna puke. So there I was, scared to death that my home was in the process of going up in flames, just like those creepy cars I've seen burning on the side of the road. From what I've seen of those car fires in the past, once the fire starts, the firemen present have to just watch it burn as there's little they can do about it. Icky smells, burning metal "PING!!"ing and black, black smoke rising into the air. This is all I could think about.
I've been in Nashville for the last couple of weeks doing some work on my rental house. I've been up to my ass renovating the house's kitchen, rebuilding the staircase and generally fixing the wear and tear that 8+ years of renting does to a house. I spend most of my days inside the house while Marge bakes in the Tennessee heat all day in the driveway. About noon, I needed something from my toolbox inside Marge so I came out to get it, my mind focused on the tasks at hand inside the house. When I saw the smoke I pretty much freaked. Neither Homer nor Max were inside, thankfully.
I frantically ran around inside Marge, mentally reviewing all the electrical work I've done over the last many months - was it the inverter? The air conditioner? Some half-assed wiring job I did just to get the lights on one evening? There was no telling...
Long story short, it was my refrigerator. I installed it over a year ago and it's done yeoman's duty ever since, keeping my bachelor staples of beer, Dr. Pepper, pickle relish and chicken wings nice and chilly. Apparently there was a defect in a component that caused a wire to melt its plastic home. That HAS to be the cause - it couldn't be my shade-tree electrician skills :) Here's the charred remains:
Sure doesn't look scary now, does it? Regardless, my pickles, Dr. Pepper and chicken wings are now SOL as the-little-fridge-that-could-be-a-fire-hazard is now taking up residence OUTSIDE Marge. And for those of you out there wondering, neither Homer nor Max, who were in the backyard about 10 feet away, reacted at all. Worthless bastards. Thus, I won't be renaming either one of them "Hero" but I'm considering "Shithead".
