Just a quick reminder that this Saturday is our annual Chili Shootout at Aviators Stadium. Lots and lots of great chili (some of it really, really hot), beverages, music, and a Wiffle Ball tournament. Hopefully you can find time in your busy weekend to come on out for a great time.

I remember a number of years ago, wandering the Shootout with my daughter Molly, who happened to spot a booth that offered what they were calling The World's Hottest Salsa. She noted that I would have to fill out a release form to try it, in case my head were to explode. Don't want anyone getting sued, now do we?

"C'mon Dad," she teased, "You like hot food. You've gotta do this." As she looked up at me with her big blue eyes, I pretty much knew that I was screwed. I had to do it. I mean, who wants to let down their little girl?

If I'd known then what I know now, I would have gladly let her down. Seriously. I filled out the required release form, then got my spoon-sized sample.

"Go for it, Dad!" she said proudly. So, I went for it.

For the first few seconds, I actually thought I was equal to the task. However, that soon changed. Fire and pain exploded in my mouth and throat. I couldn't speak! I figured out soon enough that I couldn't speak because I couldn't breathe. I couldn't see, either, because my eyes were full of involuntary tears. My nose couldn't bring in air because every mucus membrane in my body experienced what could only be described as a dam-break. All in front of my daughter.

"Dad...are...are you okay?" she asked with growing concern (I guess people who are indeed okay don't look like I looked at that moment). I tried to nod my head and give her the fatherly "Everything's just fine!" face, but instead of that, I gave her the fatherly "Oh, my God! I think I'm gonna die!" face.

Once she realized that my chances for survival were fairly good, she began to laugh. She did her best to recreate my expressions, my unsteady gait, and the assortment of odd grunts and moans that apparently escaped my body.

Lesson learned. Life is full of release forms that one must decide whether or not to sign, but to this former palate adventurer, well, I get a lot more enjoyment watching this sort of thing happen to others.

Couple of cases in point:

 

 

And then, there's Gordon Ramsey (some language NSFW):

 

 

See you at the Chili Shoot Out.