My stepdad always says that when you have a barbecue, "first you have a cooking fire and then you have a looking fire." When he has finished cooking the meat, he always builds the fire back up. I'm sure it's not very green, but I love a fire. During my student days, I was never happier than we had a beach bonfire and a few guitars. The presence or absence of alcohol was a complete non-issue for me.
Today, after my husband had barbecued our meat, our sons burnt the remnants of a wooden shoe rack that our dog nommed yesterday.
My elder son (face blurred) has inherited my fascination with flames and didn't move from that spot until the flames had died down