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Leveau
Here's to Shastakovich and
King Buzzo.…
7-19
- I hate summer
colds.
-
- Between the
sporadic tropical waves and oppressive heat that's been
floating through Florida for the past few months, it's
been hard to get a break. Even with the relaxed dress
code at my job, it's still tough not to wear something
that turns into a sweatbox when it's a zillion degrees
outside; and at the same time its hard not to wish that
you had more sleeves when the climate masters who live in
the shadowy underbelly of the building decide to crank
the air conditioning down to somewhere near fifty
degrees.
-
- I've explained
this before, but people in the South just have no concept
of how to cope with weather. The theory in this part of
the country has always been if it's cold you crank up the
heater, and if it gets balmy out you turn the AC down as
low as it can go and then hide yourself away in your own
private icebox until the temperature reaches an
acceptable level. No one here (myself included) seems to
understand the idea of layering clothing, or opening a
window to let a breeze come through.
-
- It reminds me of
that old Woody Allen joke where he says he was running a
hot bath in his bathroom and then turned the Air
Conditioner up in his living room to see what would
happen, and when he went into his kitchen -- it was
raining.
-
- Right now it feels
like that's what's happening inside my nose.
-
- Nothing really
ruins my sense of devotion towards the paperwork that I
have to complete more than continually feeling a complete
snotball floating somewhere behind my eyes.
-
- Coffee tastes like
Styrofoam, my hair feels like it's made of plastic, and
my voice sounds like Brenda Vaccaro's. I suppose that
this would be all right, except for the fact that it's
friggin July
outside…
-
- My body's running
a high temperature, which makes those 95-degree in the
shade Florida afternoons just that much more fun.
-
- And of course,
it's the perfect time for me to be sick, because I'm
currently trying to get myself back on an exercise kick.
I've been trying for a while to work a 5-6 mile walk into
my life three times a week, and just recently
I started to get the routine down. Now my head feels
like a giant cotton ball. What's worse, I'm a heavy
sweater. Sweating while you work out is one thing, but
sweating from a cold while you're sweating from a workout
is quite another. And forget trying to dry your face on a
sleeve or a towel... it's nothing but a
mucus
magnet.
-
- But the worst part
of having this summer cold is that the drugs you use to
try to dam up the river bursting forth from your schnoz
make it very difficult to trust your mind. In the last
couple of days I could swear I've seen some really
bizarre shit, but it's hard to be sure...
-
- For example, I was
driving home the other day, taking my usual route when I
came to a stoplight near Art Museum drive. There's this
little yellow house on the corner that doubles as an art
supply store.
-
- So I'm waiting for
the light to change and I look over at this yellow house,
and I swear
that I saw.... That is to say that I
think I
saw....
-
- OK -- There was a
giraffe
in the grass beside the yellow house.
-
- What's more, it
was laying on its side with it's legs sticking straight
out.
-
- It was like one of
those toy plastic giraffes that little kids play with,
but it was life-sized. Almost as if a giant child had
abandoned a plaything that they were tired of. Now keep
in mind that I was doped up on Tylenol Sinus at the time,
so there was a little whisper of doubt in my mind as to
whether or not I was actually seeing this or not…
-
- Then, as if the
fates decided that this strange scene needed some sort of
verification in reality, a guy on a riding mower appeared
from the back of the building and began to navigate the
mower around
the giraffe's body.
-
- The look on the
guys face was almost bored, like it was the most normal
thing in the world to drive a riding mower around the
petrified body of an animal whose normal habitat is
somewhere inside the African plain....
-
- The light changed
to green, but I didn't notice.
-
- Someone behind me
honked their horn, and I reflexively stepped on the
accelerator, but as I was pulling off into traffic I kept
looking back over my shoulder and saying to
myself,
-
- "Did I
really just see that?"
-
- It reminds me of
when we used to drive around Tallahassee on weekends and
see the "Super Jogger."
-
- Super Jogger was
this guy who used to run all over the city while wearing
various superhero costumes. He mostly wore Superman
tights, but over the years he expanded his getups to
include a Batman suit, a Viking ensemble, and an
M&M's costume.
-
- It was actually
quite common to be walking down the street with your
friends in Tallahassee and have someone say to you, "Hey,
step over to the side of the street and make some room,
here comes …Batman."
-
- I'll always
remember the first time I ever saw him. I was
driving my car up Tennessee Street and I remember
seeing what looked like a cape bouncing along the side of
the road. I was in a car full of friends, and we were
having a good time and laughing about everything and
nothing, and at first I really didn't think that anyone
else noticed what appeared to be the
man of steel
slowly shuffling his way towards
Bullwinkles...
-
- As we drove
closer, I remember how I kept saying to myself, "No
way… it's just ridiculous... Superman jogging down
Tennessee Street. My mind must be playing tricks on me. I
mean, come on... what the hell does Superman need to jog
for?"
-
- If bullets
bounce off of you then I'm assuming bon-bons couldn't
go straight to your hips either.
-
- The closer we got
to him on the street, the more I desperately wanted
someone else in the car to see him, just so I could
confirm that I was not insane. Luckily for me, Super
Jogger was a bit of a local cult hero, and once the other
people in the car with me saw him, they started rolling
down their windows and shouting to the guy.
-
- We drove off while
Superman waved.
-
- "Did
I really just see
that?"
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