Two weeks ago I snapped the above picture when I ran into a heavy solar flare near Hollywood, Florida. Yesterday I was traveling the same route on my bike and was pleasantly surprised to see what the highway sign above actually said. Scroll down to "Photo of the Day" and see for yourself.
But anyway, little to note locally. And what little I do note locally is really pretty lame. No Rott or pit bull attacks, no geezer gas pedal "confusion," no sand sex beach perverts to fall back on. And so, today I am left to "my own devices," as they say; which today means no devices, as I say. With me, it's all mental really; let's call it writers' block, or maybe bloggers' fog.
With temps in the late 80s and early 90s people here have been hitting our beaches with a vengeance. Other than Canadians sizzing themselves bright red like boiled . . . like boiled . . . like boiled something-or-rather (there's that fog I mentioned), nothing bad has happened to anyone, as far as I know. Not so across the state. According to my inside sources, there have already been four shark attacks over on the Atlantic side of Florida but none that I am aware of here on the . . . here on the . . . here on the better side of the state. One mother over there had to actually pull her child from the shark's mouth. Also, ferocious rip tides apparently dragged off a teenager yesterday.
With temps in the late 80s and early 90s people here have been hitting our beaches with a vengeance. Other than Canadians sizzing themselves bright red like boiled . . . like boiled . . . like boiled something-or-rather (there's that fog I mentioned), nothing bad has happened to anyone, as far as I know. Not so across the state. According to my inside sources, there have already been four shark attacks over on the Atlantic side of Florida but none that I am aware of here on the . . . here on the . . . here on the better side of the state. One mother over there had to actually pull her child from the shark's mouth. Also, ferocious rip tides apparently dragged off a teenager yesterday.
Those who can't cool off at the beach get into tiffs in their hot, miserable huts. A young local went after his step-dad with a screwdriver the other day because the nagging oldster was on his case about installing a garbage disposal wrongly . . . or was it an air conditioner?
Also, motorcyclists seem to be catching more hell than normal. On any given street or highway here, every other vehicle is a VERY LOUD motorcycle it seems, driven by some beer-bellied, bandanna-wearing gray beard. So, 'tis expected that they will come in for their fair share of fatal mishaps, I suppose. Although I have no trouble spotting two-wheelers on the roads, those with 20/80 vision apparently do, hence the great number of accidents involving putt-putts.
Over at Port Charlotte, some geezer was sitting quietly on his Harley at a light the other night when a car driven by a blitzed pro baseball player crashed into the old dude and rolled right over his head. This proved pretty much a case where a helmet was probably a life-saver (a little granddaughter had begged years back that the old coot begin wearing one). The drunken ball player made a break for it but was soon caught in left field trying to steal home. Now, not only is his blooming baseball career in utter lock-down, but his saloon and party time is too. His bond is a million bucks.
Also, motorcyclists seem to be catching more hell than normal. On any given street or highway here, every other vehicle is a VERY LOUD motorcycle it seems, driven by some beer-bellied, bandanna-wearing gray beard. So, 'tis expected that they will come in for their fair share of fatal mishaps, I suppose. Although I have no trouble spotting two-wheelers on the roads, those with 20/80 vision apparently do, hence the great number of accidents involving putt-putts.
Over at Port Charlotte, some geezer was sitting quietly on his Harley at a light the other night when a car driven by a blitzed pro baseball player crashed into the old dude and rolled right over his head. This proved pretty much a case where a helmet was probably a life-saver (a little granddaughter had begged years back that the old coot begin wearing one). The drunken ball player made a break for it but was soon caught in left field trying to steal home. Now, not only is his blooming baseball career in utter lock-down, but his saloon and party time is too. His bond is a million bucks.
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Photo of the Day
