Great Balls of Fire

There's a little Mexican joint I go to in Evanston whenever I need a quick fix. A taste of freshly made guacamole is all it takes, usually, to feed my fantasies, to take me back to a place where, every evening, the sun turns into a great fire ball as it gets swallowed up by the sea and you just know it's going somewhere a bit more exciting than Iowa. Not that there's anything wrong with Iowa.

One night in Mexico last month, long after the fire show that is a Pacific sunset ended, I ventured down to the beach to watch a different kind of fire show.  Acrobats and dancers and flat out contortionists in various forms of what I assume was some sort of native dress -- although I could swear I saw Chief Wild Eagle from F Troop -- took their turns on the makeshift stage, each one juggling some sort of fiery prop. Torches, giant rings, long rods -- all set ablaze, the more combustible heads the better.

Speaking of heat, I sat with the adorable Javier (he had to settle for me since my daughter decided to skip the festivities) as I watched the performers dance with fire. My fists clenched as the flames seemed to flicker against their skin, as they seemed to become engulfed in a fire burning out of control. "She always drops it here," Javier commented as one of the young women manipulated a huge circle of flame as if it were a hula hoop. I couldn't respond. I was too busy having a hot flash, and I don't think it had anything to do with either the performance or menopause. Ooh, Javier. El fuego.

Where was I? Ah, yes, the girl with the smoldering hula hoop. Not only didn't she drop it, but she seemed completely unscathed as she pranced off to the side of the stage to extinguish the flames. The guy who went on after her to juggle a few too many blazing torches lost a couple along the way, but he persevered. Like any juggler, I suppose he was accustomed to not always being able to keep all the balls in the air. And, I assume, he'll keep trying, at least until he -- or somebody nearby -- gets burned.

Maybe I will visit my little Mexican cafe this weekend. To rekindle some of the lost flames, to lose myself in some spicy guacamole and daydream about great balls of fire being swallowed up by the sea or tossed carelessly around as if they were a child's toys. Goodness gracious!