Twenty years ago, I started a kitchen fire while frying some pork chops. Flames shot up from the skillet into the oven vent. Smoke started rolling through the house. Smoke alarms were blaring. The dog was going nuts. Now I know you are supposed to remain calm in such a situation, but I can honestly say there was not a calm bone in my body. Fortunately I was able to extinguish the flames. I opened up all the entrances to the house and called 911. Now remember this was long before caller ID. A nice lady answered the phone and I yelled out that my kitchen was on fire. She asked, “Where are you sir?” I responded,” I’m in the kitchen.” She once again asked, “Where are you?” I responded louder and more emphatically, “I’m in the GD kitchen.” She then asked for my address. I felt about 2 inches tall. On occasion the entire family has a good laugh about this. Needless to say, I am not allowed to fry pork chops ever again.