The Story of the Short Lived Volcano

Months ago plans were laid for what has now become the annual neighborhood “Liberty Luau,”  when some of our closest friends get together, dig a pit in one backyard and host a party at the top of the hill in another neighbor’s yard on the Fourth of July.  Lawns were mowed and groomed.  A pit was dug. Banana leaves were ordered.   Rocks and firewood were hauled.  The pig was picked up from the butcher.  Sticky rice, poi, and Hawaiian macaroni salad  were cooked.  Kids activities were planned.

The evening before the festivities began, the dads began constructing a volcano for the middle of the yard.  They planned.  They sawed styrofoam braces (the styrofoam was leftover from street barricades Dr. Peds had constructed for the kid parade).  They stapled long rolls of paper, brown tarp, and scores of sliced brown paper bags together, and then spray painted everything to look like rock and lava.

They hooked up a fog machine inside the caldera to spurt fog at momentary intervals.  The finishing touches on the volcano were just being put into place as the first few guests arrived at the party.

Earlier in the afternoon on the day of the party, I began constructing “water blobs.”  Using plastic sheeting and duct tape, along with some helping hands, I basically made two giant waterbeds for kids to roll around on, stomp on, step on, slide on, and do all the things kids have ever wanted to do on a waterbed.  I thought it was kind of clever, like the ocean in a bag.

At first the water blobs seemed fragile and leaky, even though when I had researched them the articles on the internet mentioned that they lasted all day.  The blogs seemed so predestined for leaking that we actually didn’t let any of our own kids on them to play until the first guests arrived.  I need not have worried though, it turns out.

The first guests were arriving just as the volcano construction was finishing up.  The kids started tearing into the water blobs, which we had carefully placed on the flattest part of the yard, the top of the yard, because while filling them with water, we realized that the water put a lot of stress on the duct tape seams, so the best chance of success was the location with the flattest ground.  In fact, one blob we had actually drug from the bottom of the hill to the top at one point, before it got very full, because we realized that the initial spot was not very level.

The kids flitted from one blob to the next, to the swings, and back to the blobs.  They were having a great time.  One blob in particular started to shape shift a little bit, which I thought was interesting, especially since the stress of the water didn’t seem to be on the seam as much.  At one point, there was just one medium small kid on the blob, and it started to roll toward him just a bit.  He hopped off.  Suddenly the blob really started to roll, and there was nothing to stop it.  It oozed over a little mound of grass and was off, down the hill!  We all watched at the top of the hill, mesmerized.  It was like a giant blob of blue slime, rolling, rolling . . . rolling.  Faster and faster.  At first i thought it would stop.  We all did.

There was no stopping.

It gained speed as it headed down the hill, straight for the volcano.

We were transfixed.  It was about to crash into the volcano.  Someone leapt out of their chair, but too late!  Contact was made, and that beautiful volcano in all it’s glory came crashing down!  Still the blob kept rolling!  There was nothing stopping it!

Eventually we caught up to it and rolled it off, over to the side.  (Later it rolled farther down the hill onto a little path through the woods . . . I’m telling you, that thing had a mind of its own).  A shorter, less artistic and probably more realistic volcano was salvaged from the ruins.

It was a seismic event. Water versus fire.  With gravity, water wins.

We all wish someone had the foresight to make a video of the catastrophe.  We are sure we could have won some sort of prize.