It Burns So Good

When I was a kid (maybe 7-8 years old) I was fascinated by the stove.

I lived in Mountain View in a little house on Thompson Ave (532 Thompson Avenue to be exact) with rose bushes in the front.

There was a time when I blew up a firecracker in my hand in the small empty lot by my house, because I was curious as to how it felt.

Of course, there was the time my friend Alex Brown came to my house at like 5:30 am and barked like a dog as the signal for me to sneak out so we could see if the bug we buried the day before had made its way out of the dirt and grass pile.

Which brings us to the stove and the scar.

Every day, my mom cooked on that little stove. It was so interesting to see the burners get red hot, and then return to black. Frankly, it was much more interesting than the food that was being prepared on top of the burners.

(There are two things I have requested that my mom never does for me: cook and buy me clothes. Seriously. Just bad.)

Back to the stove. It was spring/summer and I was playing soccer. I was in my third or fourth year of playing, and I think at the time I was either a defender or a goalie, I dont really remember. It had to be defender, because I think that was the year I was pretty highly ranked in our area. I loved playing soccer (still do), and there was nothing I would do to jeopardize playing, but the pull of the stove was just too strong.

Here was what I wanted to know: If I turned the burner to red hot and then waited for it to go completely black, was it still hot?

Simple enough.

After soccer one day, before my mom got home from work (I think), I went into the kitchen, turned the burner on red hot, waited a second, and then turned it off.

I waited and waited until it was completely black. Completely black.

And I put my hand, fingers spread out, on top of the burner. For like five seconds.

When I pulled my hand away, I had this really interesting red circles that matched the burner etched into my skin. It didnt hurt. I didnt cry.

I went to the sink and poured cold water on top of my hand and wrist. Slowly, blisters began to form, and I realized that the burners stay hot even after they are turned off.

It sucked for awhile playing soccer, at least until most of the blisters went down. The mark on my wrist never left, and I am glad it didnt.

Why?

I find wonder in the world. I want to understand everything. I want to know how it feeeeeeeels. I want the experience. If I could, I would kill myself a million different ways, just to know what the experience is like.

Pretty sure, thats why I love startups. Working at a startup is like putting my hand on that stove everyday. Most days, I get a little burned. Occasionally, something scars and sticks with me.

But everyone once in awhile, I touch the burner, and my hand comes back unscathed.

Today was one of those days.

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