Sometimes it pays to heed e-mail

Modern technology has allowed wonderful things, like using the Internet to quickly look up the lyrics for "September" by Earth Wind & Fire and settle an argument over whether they're singing "on and on" or "party on."

(Ends up they're singing a nonsensical "bah de ya." Who knew?)

But technology has allowed for evil things, too, like chain e-mail. It's a sickness that infects otherwise intelligent people, causing them to believe that Bill Gates will give them $20 just for forwarding an e-mail to their entire address book. Other e-mails claim that a neat picture will pop up on the computer screen after they irritate all their friends by forwarding some piece of tripe. I always reply to the sender, "So ... did you get your neat picture? What was it?"

They don't answer me.

So after six years of Internet access and hundreds of such e-mails, you can understand why I'd ignore the one about gel candles, forwarded to me and about 300 other of the sender's closest friends.

Basically, these are candles fueled by translucent gel instead of opaque wax. Producers embed little trinkets in the gel candles, and those seem to glow as the candle burns.

An e-mail I received years ago warned of dire consequences of burning gel candles -- it said one lit a woman's wall on fire and just spattered and made the problem worse when she tried to throw water on it.

I hit delete without giving it a second thought ... until a couple of weeks ago.

Feeling particularly festive, I decided to light a homemade gel candle given to me in 2001. Like a typical female, I hadn't lit it before because it was too pretty to burn, the way some jewelry is too expensive to wear and some china too fancy to use.

The candle wasn't unattended. It was actually 6 feet away from where I was sitting at the kitchen table attending to business. But for some reason, I didn't look up until the room was thick with smoke.

The entire top of the candle was in flames, not just the wick. Trying to remain calm but actually flipping out, I grabbed a glass of water and threw it on the fire. Just like the e-mail said, the gel spattered.

Then, harkening back to Mrs. Messmer's seventh-grade home economics lesson on grease fires, I threw flour on the whole mess.

That worked.

In the end, I was shaken and had to clean up a lot of flour and air out the apartment, but that was nothing compared to what could have happened. The Other Half changed the batteries in the downstairs smoke alarm, bought a fire extinguisher and gave me a greeting card with the handwritten message: "You lit a fire in me the first time I saw you."

The truth is, candles -- gel, wax and whatever other kinds there may be -- have become a big part of decor now. They're colorful, they smell great and they create ambiance. But any time there's an open flame in our homes, there's a potential for danger that shouldn't be ignored.

E-mail this to everyone in your address book. You will get a corresponding number of wishes -- or at least a peeved reply from one of your friends.

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Just had to share this "you know you're from Southeast Missouri if" item.

A local restaurant actually put the true pronunciations of its wine selection on helpful, laminated cards placed on each table.

On one side was chardonnay (or "SHAR-dohn-nay") and on the other was merlot (or "mer-LOW").

It makes one wonder how many phonetic pronunciations the serving staff heard before the owners took this measure.

Heidi Hall is managing editor of the Southeast Missourian.