In Heat

I often question what the hell I am doing in South Florida. I loathe extreme heat and humidity...I cannot swim...I detest sand in my crevices...the black snakes in our foliage terrify me...everything wilts, starting with my rains for 22 seconds every day at 3:00 p.m....and don't get me started on how benign Christmas can be, when all of the cords typically flocked by a Midwest winter's snow are visible in yards., destroying any illusion, as a neighbor in his underpants hauls out flattened boxes for recycling.

I was recently in Key West and the afternoon sun was so intense the bottoms of my cheap OLD NAVY shoes became gummy on pavement. When your shoes are stuck to the sidewalk, it's hot. I watched tourists in XXL knock-off Tommy Bahama shirts zoom past on bicycles or scooters and could only hope, from their red faces and heaving chests, they were looking for somewhere air-conditioned.

Today I have a "bad eye". It weeps and waters for no accountable reason yet its twin is clear and gunk-free. Allergies, I suspect...foliage nearby is blooming, setting seed or has freed pollen. But why only one eye? Benadryl knocks me on my ass, so that's not an option, and eyedrops will only irritate, so I have taken to donning sunglasses indoors (the "bad eye" is also light-sensitive). If I had an eyepatch, I would wear it.

Such heat also bring out the new pest of South Florida: iguanas. Once upon a time, I was charmed by their jarring presence, these miniature dinosaurs who run funny, in colors from lime-green to the hue of the ripest Haas avocado. The spell broke when they began defecating into my pool after a leisurely swim, urinating great gobs of white on my patio and decimating every plant red, orange or pink in my landscaping. They've no natural predators, besides an automobile, and propagate readily, growing as large as small dogs, with mean-looking tails that whip around when chased or confronted.

I take a wad of paper towel in the car when we go anywhere, I sweat so profusely. Dark wet rings around my manboobs are my new accessory, and I am here to tell you this humidity does no favors to my sac, either. TMI? Too bad.