Welcome to my world, a world of middle-age and postmenopausal bliss.  Now I know why they call old-age (that's the way I feel sometimes) the Golden Years; it's because when you hit menopause the hot flashes get so bad that you feel like a fire has been lit under you--you emit golden rays as well as a few sparks. 

These hot flashes get so hot that sometimes I think I'm gonna spontaneously human combust.  One minute I'm just sitting at my computer, pecking away, and then all of a sudden I feel the heat rising so rapidly that I think my pot is getting ready to boil over.  Actually, it does boil over; the sweat just pours off of me in torrents.  These hot flashes can very quickly turn into a sticky situation, one that mere Arid Extra Dry won't fix.  I've been taking a lot of baths lately--Mr. Clean would be proud. 

The other day shortly after feeling I was on the verge of spontaneously human combusting, I decided to surf the Internet and see what it had to say about Spontaneous Human Combustion.  I found out that Spontaneous Human Combustion is when "human beings suddenly burst into flames for no discernible reason."  On further research I discovered that in 80% of cases the victims are females.  Aha!  This just confirmed my suspicion that Spontaneous Human Combustion is, in the majority of cases, caused by menopause. 

The article I read proposed some theories stating that Spontaneous Human Combustion was somehow related to alcohol consumption and body fat.  Well yes, I guess I have to admit the female torso, on the whole, has more body fat than the average male's.  And somehow I got the impression that all these women victims were a bunch of closet alcoholics, since it always happened while the victims were at home alone.  These theories of body fat and alcohol make perfect sense to me, since they are both highly flammable.  However, the great mystery in the whole debate is the source of combustion.  What touches off these fires of human flesh? 

Well, I can sum this up in two little words:  Hot flashes.  Apparently these overweight closet alcoholics were in the throes of menopause.  I can see it now:  Little Susie Homemaker curled up in her comfy recliner nursing her third Tequilla Sunrise and simultaneously stuffing herself with Twinkies, Ho-Ho's and all other sorts of despicable artery-clogging, filthy, fattening foods.  And then what happens? 
It hits--the hot flash from Hell.  Poof.  All that's left of Little Susie is a pile of charred bones and ashes.  She probably didn't know what hit her.  She didn't live to see the next sunrise OR sunset, for that matter. 

What about the other 20% of victims who are male?  I've got that figured out too:  Male menopause.  The source of combustion for these men is when they get too hot under the collar.  Poof.  They're goners too.  It's a cheap way to get cremated. 

I don't think I have anything to worry about.  I gave up alcohol a few months ago.  Just to be safe, I'd better lay off the cooking sherry too. 

I'm sure there's good things about menopause; right now I can't think of anything since my pot is rapidly beginning to feel like it is going to boil over at any second now.  Help me please somebody please turn on the air conditioner.  I have a feeling that this winter the cold climate is going to come in real handy.  I won't have to stick my head in the freezer--I'll just go outside to cool off.  This winter my poor husband is going to die of frostbite inside his very own house.  Oh well, I guess it's better to die that way than to die of a heart attack when he opens the natural gas bill.  I heard gas prices are going way up this winter. 

This is just a small part of my world of middle-age and postmenopausal bliss.  Did you know that "Susan Sparks" is a complete sentence?  And, where there's Sparks, there's fire! 

Susan is now writing poetry at a furious pace.  Her poetry can be read at www.AuthorsDen.com.  She can be reached at Ssparkfire@wmconnect.com Telephone:  (217)234-7541