"Maybe I should have gotten a better angle on 'Mokey's' hat!" I thought I would cut short any of Myx's insults about my photo by stating the obvious.
"Smokey the Bear, Smokey the Bear!" Myx sang.
"Myx, how would you know that song?"
"Prowlin' and a-growlin' and a-sniffin' the air--"
"You're not going to make any cracks about being afraid of a bear hug?"
"He can find a fire before it starts to flame--"
"Or that he's got a bit of a paunch?"
"That's why they call him Smokey,"
"Or that he--"
"Dave, together on 3: one, two, three--"
So, in a nearly-deserted museum in Phoenix, Arizona, Myx and I belted out the last line to a song I had heard so many times in my childhood:
"That was how he got his name!"
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