Seriously though, why are so many options we have in life a choice between bad and worse? Take the above statement. I feel sorry for any guy that gets asked this question by his wife and/or girlfriend. A yes answer is telling her you think she looks fat but if it is a really bad wardrobe choice then what do you do?
It's kind of like asking someone if they would rather jump into a pool of snot or a pool of cow manure if someone put a gun to their head. Well obviously either is better than a bullet in the brain but is one option really any better than the other?
I was reminded of this the other day when someone mentioned the dog breed known as the Chow. I was immediately taken back to my days as a 15 or 16 year old scout and a money making project we did. Our scoutmaster knew a guy that had a ton of weeds around his house, barn and orchard that he wanted to get knocked down. We went to work with hoes and rakes and soon had several large piles of dried up weeds and grass. The scoutmaster also brought his tractor and disk to work some of the weedy ground. Well things now looked pretty good except for the large piles of dead plant material everywhere. So what were we to do?
The scoutmaster got the idea that we could burn the weeds. This was back in the day when no one complained about air quality or permits for burning anything. So he proceeded to light a pile. That seemed to be working pretty good so he decided to light all the piles scattered around the place. Well with a small breeze those piles were burning pretty good rather quickly and the matter of the fire spreading to some remaining areas of dry grass soon became a problem. The scouts worked like mad men with hoes and shovels but it soon became apparent that we were getting beat by the fire. What we needed was water and we needed it badly.
The problem was that the hose was inside the fenced yard which had a large Chow patroling it. So the question became which would we rather do, burn up a few acres of property and possibly a building or two or brave the blood thirsty Chow. Finally we convinced one scout to make the trip into the Chow's lair.
We tried to help. We distracted the Chow as our buddy sneaked in. He got to the hose and was able to turn it on before the large as a bear Chow saw him. The Chow began running and barking at our fellow scout. The barking sounded more like a blood thirsty snarl and the scout began running for the gate with the hose in hand screaming in fear. He made it just in time and we continued fighting the fire eventually getting it out.
The owner of the property was very happy even though our fire sprang back up after we left and burned up his pool pipes. He turned that into insurance and told us that the pipes were really old and needed to be replaced anyway. He paid us well and we were able to go to scout camp with the money we had earned.
I did earn a healthy respect for both fire and Chows that day and wondered if I had to make that choice would I choose to get chased by a Chow or risk burning a few acres. I still can't answer that question. Sometimes the choices we have are bad no matter which one we choose.
