Ah, how I missed you, oppressive, swarming, relentless Florida heat. It seems you were on vacation this year. Took some time off. Came back late. But I realized last weekend you’re finally home. You’ve unpacked and you’re ready to torch. I was outside cutting down tree branches. It was Sunday morning. Father’s Day. There are few better ways to celebrate being a father than firing up a chain saw, gnawing through some wood and praying that the teetering branch the length of Texas doesn’t come down on you like a cartoon fly swatter. Why is it we think the laws of gravity don’t apply to giant tree branches? We’re standing below them. Where do we think they’ll go? “I don’t know, Doc. I just thought it would fall up … not on my head.” Anyhoo, I was out dodging the arboreal assault. I ran inside to proclaim that I was alive (save for the giant branch sticking out of my shoulder blade) and hug my daughter. She stopped me with a finger. “Um, no,” she said. “But I’m alive, sweet pea, and it’s Father’s Day!” “That’s great,” she replied. “But you look like you drowned.” I peered down at myself. The 60 percent of my body made up of water had leached onto my shirt. I could feel dehydrated blood cells coursing through my veins like sand. This explained the strange hallucinations. Darth Vader had been using his light saber to help cut up branches. “Oh, yeah,” I thought to … Continue reading Welcome back, dreaded Florida heat