Fire and water

The father of one of my friends put on his own fireworks show the other day -- word is that he used up about 2200 dollars' worth of fireworks, although he didn't pay that much, because he got a "Dude! You sure bought a lot of fireworks!" discount. It was certainly an impressive display, and word of mouth from his 2006 show had drawn a crowd of what appeared to be at least a couple of hundred people.

Okay, we're on the way to the human-powered vehicle race, in early April of 2001. We're riding in Mac's RV: me, Mac, Third of Three, Mohinder, and Shanti (no, I'm not going to explain the names -- if you can follow the plot of "Lost", you can follow this!) First and Second of Three, along with their nameless friend, are following in a car.

We've stopped to fuel up the RV. Mac went into the store to pay and use the bathroom, and before going in, he had commented that somebody needed to clean the road dust and bugs off the windshield. Surprisingly, the Malaysians proceeded to take on this task without any further prompting -- they must have been really bored. I'm working the cramps out of my legs with a little walking around.

Hearing some chatter from the front of the RV, I walk up there and find the Malaysians attempting to rinse the soap off the very high windshield -- none of them are particularly tall, and while the scrubber had a long handle, the water hose does not. Third is holding the hose end as high as he can, but the water only has enough pressure to rise about six inches beyond the end of the hose itself.

I see Second take the hose and begin trying to "flick" the water higher up by making a sort of tossing motion -- imagine the way you'd toss a drink in your date's face. This works about as well as you might expect. By this point, I'm no longer surprised by any lack in their knowledge of what I consider even the most rudimentary aspects of life in a technological civilization -- I know they have cities and cars, but maybe they don't wash them?

Anyway, I walk over, unceremoniously take the hose from Second, and place my thumb over the end, in the fashion that all of us who have ever sprayed anything with a hose do without really thinking about it. The water shoots up and over the top of the RV, even though I'm holding the hose down at waist level like an Old West gunslinger, and I begin rinsing the windshield with it. Behind me, I hear the Malaysians chattering excitedly in their native language, and finally Second steps up and says "How did you figure out how to do that?", as if he expects my answer to contain intricate formulae from fluid dynamics.

I don't even bother to answer.