There are times in your life when you wish you were doing something else. Sitting for the SATs, sitting in a dentist’s examination chair, sitting for a lecture from your angry wife, and sitting in a busy airport with the other hurricane refugees, are all such times. Now, however, I’m sitting in the back of a small noisy jet, next to a small noisy child. The fact that this child is my own is little consolation. Fortunately, the Game Boy has had it’s hoped for effect – namely, it has reduced the overall noise level of the cramped cabin significantly.
Category: The Sunshine State
When boredom is a good thing
Hurricane/Tropical Storm Frances is still making its presence felt in Dunedin, Florida. Despite a whole heck of a lot of rain and some gusty wind, we’ve gotten off light. The electricity has been out at my in-law’s place. Power has been intermittent at my parent’s house. Yet, we’ve had power throughout the storm. The storm has left our property relatively untouched, other than a ton of branches carpeting the front yard and driveway. Our only casualty has been a small tree in our front yard that snapped in the wind.
We got an extra day off from work (and possibly counting). We’ve watched a LOT of television. Beth is making up for the lack of outside playtime by bringing the outside activity inside. I’ve spent a lot of time on the front porch, bored to near tears, watching the wind blown trees and the swirling rain.
The most suspense we’ve had this morning is waiting to see if school will be cancelled tomorrow.
Now if you’ll please excuse me – I think I’m going to go watch the rain some more.
A new week’s resolution
The bike is back, baby! They say that one day of exercise is better than none, and we’ll be testing that theory this week, or so it seems. What began as a week filled with promise is slowly degenerating into this summer’s pattern: when it’s not raining there’s something that needs to be done with a car. Yesterday? Lower back pain induced by hurricane preparations. Today? The pain is still there, but I rode anyway! Tomorrow? Mid-day doctor’s appointment. Thursday and Friday? My fingers are crossed, but learned helplessness is setting in.
In other news,
I know why the hurricane didn’t come here. Sure, meteorologists will have you believe that it was a trough of low pressure which turned the storm to the east sooner than expected, but you bought that? Here’s the scoop. I’ve got this really menacing looking Hulk shaped bottle of bubble bath in my office. (It was a gift from my co-workers, but that’s another story.) On Thursday afternoon, as we were evacuating our office, I placed my Hulk shaped bottle of bubble bath – his arms raised in a very Hulk like furry – in my window facing Tampa Bay. My thinking was, if anyone can scare away a storm it’s the Hulk, right? I think this could lead to a revolution in preventative meteorology.
Mother nature reeks havoc with my hammies
Riding a bicycle to work during the rainy season in Florida is like rolling the dice and betting on a number between one and twelve. Here’s my summer forecast: there’s a 100% chance that I’m going to get awfully wet. There are two ways to accomplish this feat of aquatic proportions. One, engage your body’s temperature regulation system; or two, ride home in an afternoon thunderstorm. The first method can result in chronic perspiration, dehydration, and a really bad smell. The second, and less recommended method, can result in an elevated heart rate, severe anxiety, an increased risk for bodily injury, and a swift kick in the keester from your spouse.
Bitching about the weather
There are two kinds of Floridians: native born and transplants. There are two kinds of transplants: those that don’t mind the summers and those that do. There are two kinds of people who mind the summer weather: those that complain about it and those that don’t. I’m a transplant that doesn’t like the summer weather and is outspoken on the matter.
Coming in to work this morning, I had the occasion to flip the calendar to the new month (we’re not in May anymore Toto). The first thing that jumped out at me was that June 21 is the first day of summer (the summer solstice for those of you who are astronomically inclined). To those of us who live in Florida, June 21 is a relatively meaningless day. Summer weather has been with us for over a month now; forget about waiting another twenty odd days. Highs in the nineties, lows in the mid to upper seventies, humidity thick enough to go down the wrong pipe, direct sunlight that will burn unprotected skin in just over fifteen minutes, what’s not to like? Normally I would just go indoors and stay there, but my friend the air conditioner has betrayed me yet again.
WANTED: Catharsis suitable for a thirty-two year old male who is ready to go up in the attic and open a can of whoop ass on his air handler.
’tis the season.
The highs are in the 70’s, the lows are in the 50’s – it must be Christmas in Florida! I’m dreaming of an evergreen Christmas. In Florida, fall is when you trip on the stairs. Winter is the name of a meteorologist on the local news. Cold is what you get as a result of a viral infection.
And yet, it’s my favorite time of year. The only problem is that there are only two and a half days left, then the decorations come down and the party is over. Christmas isn’t even here yet and I’m already worried about it’s passing.
Groundbreaking.
Another first is upon us! We, the members of the Florida Kauffman Family Household (version 2.2**), are intimately familiar with the warm air blowing in the summer phenomenon. Having air conditioning in Florida is like having a public defender when you are falsely accused of a crime and you’re dead broke; you know you need it but you wouldn’t trust it any further than you could carry it. We have just such a relationship with our air conditioner. Rarely has our distrust risen to such heights! On a chilly afternoon, we came home and opened the door. As is the custom, we opened the door and we were greeted with a blast of cold air. But wait, didn’t I say it was a chilly afternoon? Holy wind chill factor Batman, it’s colder inside! How can this be? Elementary, my dear reader; you simply pay someone good money to wire a thermostat incorrectly. You turn on the heat in the morning when you wake up, thinking it is a little chilly. Sure, it’s cold when you wake up, but then you get up and start moving around. You warm yourself up and you don’t even notice that it’s a little cooler inside when you leave. By the time you get home the house is a good ten degrees cooler than it is outside, a crisp 62 degrees (yes, 72 qualifies as chilly in Florida, give it a rest). That’s brisk baby! Our air system was in a feedback loop from hell. The thermostat drops below a temperature, prompting it to turn on the heat. Instead, the cool air comes on, dropping the temperature, ensuring that the “heat” would stay on – FOR ALL ETERNITY (or until we got home).
Who would have guessed that our air conditioning bill would go through the roof in November? In Florida?***
** Note to readers everywhere: due to budget cuts, the fact checker had to be laid off some time ago. Consequently, the author’s current family domicile has been mistakenly referred to as version 2.0, when it is, in fact, version 2.2. The author offers his sincerest apologies.
*** The author is well aware of the fact that it is more costly, minute to minute, to run the heater than the air conditioner. The key is that this is November and this is Florida. If we run the heat twice in November, it qualifies as a November cold spell of historic proportions.
Sixty-five degrees.
I live in Florida. Florida is generally hot. Sub 70 degree temperatures have not been seen since March. It has been difficult to walk out the front door without instantly breaking out in a sweat for about eight months. Sixty-five almost feels cold. Sixty-five feels like sweater weather. Sixty-five gets the blood pumping and the adrenalin flowing. I am in heaven.
The first signs of fall.
Last week I walked from my car to the office as a bit of cool air hit me in the face and brushed my bare skin. I was tempted to say chill, but I quickly recovered. It is 09/in Florida after all. Even I feel silly saying that 75 is chilly. Another sign has parked invisibly over our heads – a stalled frontal weather system. No one in Florida talks about weather “fronts” until after the autumnal equinox. (THE AUTHOR WISHES TO FESS UP: no one but meteorologists and us Weather Channel junkies talk about weather fronts regardless of the time of year.) Another change occurs in our yard. Our yard’s grass like substance stops growing in late September, and does not resume until spring (which in Florida comes in late February).
I am a cold weather guy, or to be specific – a Florida cold weather guy. My idea of the perfect day is a high of 54 and a low of 40. My idea of yard work is bring my iBook out to the back yard and working on a project for the office perched on the hammock.
The grass like substance is just starting to cooperate and the weather will be here before I know it.
Bring it on!
Summer will end, won’t it?
While I’m in no hurry to end Beth’s summer vacation, I can’t wait for the season to change. In Florida, the season changes sometime around Halloween. About one quarter of the leaves fall off the oak tree out front, so we don’t get the full fall treatment. But the temperatures do cool off a bit. By then football season is in full swing, followed by basketball and hockey season. So to sum it up: the weather gets comfortable and all the sports that really matter get into the swing of things. Now throw in all the major holidays: Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years. People stop talking about fluid replacement and sunscreen; and start talking about fantasy leagues, betting pools, sweaters and open windows. I for one am ready.