Ah, Labor Day! That annual holiday celebrating the hard work of so many men and women. And to honor them, we get to sit on our duffs and do absolutely nothing. Like me. Three straight days with nothing planned, prescribed or penciled-in, aside from sitting down with a good book in a comfortable chair and a beer the temperature of an arctic ice flow. Almost too cold … until I remember I live in Florida, and there is no such thing as “too cold!”
So, I just plop down, flip open my page and … huh. That’s interesting. There. See it? Hanging from the ceiling fan. Swinging from some translucent rope. Like Tarzan on a vine. Is that a … SPIDER!!!
Oh, well, I’ll just have to take care of that. I can’t sit here and read a book knowing that’s right there above me. I might try to concentrate. To tune it out. To say things like, “Cold beer makes problems go away.” But I know arachnid Tarzan would still be up there, watching me. Knowing that my ambivalence is a sign of my weakness. And that he can just invite all of his friends over to laugh at me and mock me and build webs that spell, “You look ridiculous in your little L.L. Bean slippers, silly human with only two arms.”