A barbecue is meat and flame. That's it. The act of gathering around an outdoor fire to share food and company has remained essentially unchanged since caveman times. And though modern barbecues rely on meat from shrink-wrapped Styrofoam trays rather than something we clubbed ourselves, there's still no denying a barbecue's "shades of roasted mastodon," according to cookbook author Irma Rombauer.

Back in those mastodon days, humanity discovered a simple truth: barbecues fix everything. Our ancestors were preoccupied with finding food and not being eaten by gigantic, toothy beasts. If said beasts were speared, then seared, over some smoky wood, both of life's basic problems were solved at once.

We can no longer devour all of our problems (jury summons can be re-sent even after being charred on a mesquite grill), but I have no doubt that "BBQs" can still help us overcome a number of Santa Clarita's modern challenges.

Passive-Aggressive Problem Solving
There are precisely two times when it's OK to talk to your neighbors. You may offer a moderately-sincere "looks great" after they hang their Christmas lights, and you may warn them if they've failed to notice the approach of a massive wildfire. Otherwise, any contact should be restricted to a wave or nod. If problems between you and your neighbor arise, the proper course of action is to stew about them and complain to your friends and family while never addressing the neighbor directly. It's only polite.

Sometimes, though, neighbor problems get out of hand. Imagine, for example, that they teach a "Nude Pilates for Seniors" class in their backyard. In this case, you call all the friends and family to whom you have been complaining about the neighbor and ask them to come over for a backyard BBQ. After a little drinking to increase the volume, the barbecue-goers are steered toward the offending property line and the conversation is steered toward condemning the offense (e.g., "Are those the awful Pilates people?"). If the neighbors are eavesdropping, which they are, you just might notice them taking steps to resolve the issue without ever having confronted them.

The Block Party BBQ
The City of Santa Clarita took a variation on this approach late in June. Officials decided that some residents weren't really taking care of their properties. Instead of writing a slew of repeat citations, they threw an "Extreme Neighborhood Makeover" party complete with, you guessed it, barbecue. Unlike most block parties, this one had City Preservation Officers around to give advice and direction to homeowners. It was all done in an effort to inform and inspire people to make their homes more beautiful, or at least less hideous. According to the press release, many homeowners just don't know it's illegal to do things like "paving the entire front yard with asphalt or concrete."

Someone at City Hall clearly has their act together. You'll only foster anger and resentment if you tell someone the rusted-out car on their front lawn is an eyesore and a violation of City ordinances. But tell them this while giving out grilled tri-tip and it's possible to both address the problem and maintain peace. Once again, barbecue proves indispensable.

Shades of Saber Tooth Tiger
Some of our animal neighbors haven't quite mastered the barbecue. They're the sort that come over uninvited and eat the meat before it has even been cooked - sometimes (ugh) while it's still barking. Recently, for example, a woman's dachshund was devoured by a coyote that leapt over her fence. Then, we watched with suspense as a black bear traipsed through northern SCV (only to be run over on Highway 14 a few days later). On June 23, a mountain lion showed up in Saugus after two were spotted in Newhall a month earlier. I think we're all used to coyotes by now, but lions and bears? That's one carnivore away from Dorothy shouting "Oh my!"

It's too bad that these big, wild animals insist on trying to survive in Southern California. Us Santa Claritans have paid dearly to have our particular patch of land bulldozed, graded, landscaped, and developed with a nice house. Apart from the contingent that actually likes trees and nature, wouldn't we heart SCV more if we knew nothing bigger than a squirrel roamed the hillsides? By now, I'm sure you're wondering how I'm going to tie this back into barbecues. My thesis still stands: I think a big, expansive grill and a nice spice rub could help us resolve our issues with the trespassing bears, cougars and coyotes. Just bring whichever one of those happens to be stalking around your yard and let the barbecue take care of it. I'll bring napkins.

This column is intended as satire and a (sometimes successful) attempt at humor. Suggestions, catty comments and veiled threats intended for the author can be e-mailed to iheartscv@insidescv.com.