The phrase goes something like "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and sometimes you feel like a nut, and sometimes you don't, but only if that woman's screw is lose to the point that she's a few cards short of a dozen."
This accurately sums up the sentiment felt by many folks after hearing that a U.S. Forest Service forest technician was arrested Sunday night for accidentally starting that 100,000-acre-plus blaze in Colorado. The cause of the blaze: She set a letter from her estranged husband on fire while she was in the bone-dry forest. Really. The flames spread beyond the letter and boom, 25 homes were toast, she's looking at two decades in the pokey and her husband is probably grateful that he didn't become the next John Wayne Bobbitt.
This has to be one of the top all-time moron cretin ignoramus moves that anybody has ever made in the name of what I will call love psychosis. The definition of love psychosis: Wacko stuff done by a person who feels wronged by a romantic interest.
Now, we can all look at this forest service technician and say what a bonerhead she is, accidentally starting a fire and creating all sorts of destruction because she got a letter she didn't care much for. But in the spirit of fairness -- and this is extremely scary -- many of us must admit that we have done similarly dumb things as a result of love psychosis. And the only difference between us and this woman is luck and location.
Even if we haven't been personally involved, we all at least know people who have punched a wall or driven recklessly or ran off and joined a cult or became a Republican or something equally heinous as a result of spurned love.
Outside of a few angry phone calls and a manic letter or two, I have been relationship psychosis-free in my life. (Editor's Note: We think this is because Jimmy never dates and, by all indications, has no life.) However, some of my friends and family members can't say the same thing.
My parents like telling a story about when, some 40 years ago -- before they got married and middle-aged and stuff -- my then-teenage parents got into an argument at a dance in Gardnerville. My father apparently took off in a huff and drove off, going all the way to Reno and then all the way back at a pace well into three mph digits. Thankfully, only a few cows and a tractor were located between Gardnerville and Reno back then (that was Carson City; there would have been more cows present except that the Legislature was not in session). Whatever the fight was about, my parents got over it, and much to the dismay of my editors, they had me.
Now, let's step back for a second: What my father did was far more reckless, at least at first glance, than what this forest technician did. It's all about time and location. My dad chose early 1960s Nevada for his attempt to break the land-speed record; had he done this in, say, the Las Vegas of 2002, it would have been much more dangerous (although fairly typical for Las Vegas drivers). And had this forest technician burned her letter in, say, Las Vegas instead of a tinder box of a forest, nobody would have noticed, because it's 106 degrees in Las Vegas and it feels like everything's on fire in the first place.
And what the heck is a forest technician, anyway? Doesn't a technician, by definition, deal with technology? What the heck is technological in a damn forest? Has Bill Gates introduced Windows for pine cones or something stupid like that?
Anyway, my point: Yes, this forest technician is a chowder head, and seeing as her actions caused such calamity, she should be responsible for them. But before we get all high and mighty in our judgments, we should step back and remember that many of us have had our loopy moments of love psychosis. And we should remember what that great cartoon spokescreature Smokey Bear said: "Only you can prevent forest fires caused by a scorned woman with a screw loose or who's a few cards short of a dozen, whatever the case may be."
Jimmy Boegle is a fifth-generation Nevadan who feels like a nut all of the time. His column appears here Tuesdays, and he can be reached via e-mail at jiboegle@stanfordalumni.org.