Misery is imminent, and also extraordinarily sweaty…

I don’t mean to sound all dramatic, but if you were face-to-face with the fear of having to drive around the most sweltering time of the year with only the occasional faint breeze to cool the otherwise volcanic interior of your truck, bus, or automobile of choice, I trust that you’d better understand the dire straits that I currently face.  I mean, I live in Florida – our state slogan is all about the sun – it’s really, really hot here! The idea of driving around without air conditioning even at two o’clock in the morning for a quick trip to the store is an unfathomable fate that I wouldn’t dare wish upon my worst of enemies…

It started about a week ago when some random air conditioner widget buried deep within the mysterious confines of my dashboard began making this god-awful sound that even the loudest of rock songs couldn’t seem to drown out.  I guess you could say that it kind of resembles the sound that a songbird might make if given a tiny megaphone, although at this point I’m fairly confident it’s not that.  All I know is that it chirps louder and louder the longer my AC runs until eventually I give in and turn the whole thing off in fear of killing it, cringing as my sweet, sweet conditioned air is quickly bludgeoned into submission by the overwhelming heat and humidity that our fiery Florida summers are all too well known for.

Sure, I could just crank the radio up and let the sweet, sweet sounds of Duran Duran do their best to distract me as my vehicle’s cooling power deteriorates before my very eyes, enjoying every last flurry of cold refreshment while I still can, but at the same time I can’t say that I’m exactly anxious to take my prized jalopy into the auto repair shop to get it “fixed,” either!  I just know that it’s going to end up costing something like $7,000 to evict that overzealous blue bird and restore my car’s interior to its former, non-sweltering glory, and not for nothing, but for that kind of money I could probably pay a guy to sit in the passenger seat and spritz me every so often with one of those spray bottles with the fan that people desperately buy at theme parks for $14.95 a piece and yet still have change leftover to stop into Cold Stone to pick up a little treat for me and my new refreshingly cool friend afterwards!

Of course, you don’t have to tell me that a working air conditioner isn’t a luxury here in the sizzling Sunshine State as much as it’s a necessity and unless I can either figure out how to maybe install a portable freezer into my car or otherwise make arrangements to just hold up in the comfort of my fully-functioning, reliably air-conditioned home until I strike it rich and/or this stupefying heat heads south for the winter itself, it’s really only a matter of time before my car’s precious AC is just going to die altogether and that’s a day that I’m obviously not looking forward to all that much.  I’m trying to prolong it the best I can by only running the AC in short, non-chirpy bursts, but much like trying to patch the Hoover Dam with a piece of chewing gum, sooner or later the whole thing is still going to give and I’m going to find myself deluged with 9.2 trillion gallons of water…

…or heat – I suppose it would actually be 9.2 trillion gallons of heat in my own sticky scenario…

…also, admittedly probably not quite as much heat – maybe a hundred or so gallons, tops…

…either way, it’s still a lot of heat – that’s kind of what I was going for with the whole Hoover Dam analogy there…

…sooo – any mechanics  out there want to charge a guy less than $7,000 to fix an air conditioner???

If not, the spray bottle position may be opening up here shortly, too, so get those resumes updated and ready for that…

Welcome to Florida – I hope you brought an umbrella!

I mean, sure, it’s technically summertime and we’ve definitely got plenty of sunshine ready for your stay, too – sometimes upwards of 100 degrees of it at a time, but it’s always the rain that catches people off-guard because, well, I guess there are certain expectations that get set when people plan their vacations to The Sunshine State that in reality might not actually be 100% accurate…

Fortunately, being that it typically only lasts for about 30 minutes each afternoon, rainy season is something that those of us who live here in Florida have kind of gotten used to over the years, just like the overwhelming barrage of tourists and retired people that roam our streets and theme parks like equally bewildered lost puppies.  But eventually with time you learn what tourist traps to avoid and why never to play chicken with an old man on a golf cart, just in the same way that you learn not to take a late lunch between the months of June and September, or if you do, it’s not a bad idea to bring along your canoe in tow just in case!

Because it may not be a long shower, but oh boy, is it a thorough drenching during that half hour when the sky opens up and unleashes its wrath of a thousand bathtubs upon an unsuspecting mass of the soon-to-be-soaked!  People sometimes throw around the classic phrase “raining cats and dogs” in reference to just any old drizzle outside their living room window, however there are periods during the rainy season here where it actually wouldn’t surprise me to see real, live cats and dogs pelting down from the skies, flooding the streets with a gigantic fur ball of anger that’s going to make an absolute mess before we’re finally able to dry them all off!

Of course, as much as we might moan and groan about the inconvenience of these regularly scheduled tidal waves, we all know that our afternoon rain storms are small potatoes compared to the hurricanes that seem to be ever-looming off our coast, proverbially being the difference between it “raining cats and dogs” vs. “raining elephants and hippopotamuses…with the occasional angry mountain lion thrown in there for ambiance, too.” I’m happy to carry an umbrella pretty much everywhere I go during this time of year if only to ensure that the roof of my house will actually still be there where I left it when I later return home!

Besides, there are plenty of things that you can do to make the best of this slippery season to avoid getting washed away between the hours of 2:30 and 5:00pm – simple things, like…

• keeping no less than 18 sets of dry clothes in your car
• stowing a small, inflatable life raft in the trunk, for those instances when your wife is literally willing to paddle her way to the latest savings at the mall
• maintaining a money clip’s worth of tens and twenties to provide the generous tips that you’re going to owe the delivery guy when you order in for lunch instead of venturing outdoors like a gambling crazy person

And above all, just remember – a bad day at Disney World is still better than a great day back home at work, and besides, they don’t call it Splash Mountain for nothing!  Grab a poncho and a couple of dozen pairs of dry socks from the gift shop and you’ll be back waiting in line in that sweltering heat in no time…

Happy vacationing!

For a pasty-white guy who lives in the Sunshine State, I don’t spend nearly enough time at the beach these days.

I mean, I’ve got all the right excuses – my pale, almost ghost-like complexion that sitting in front of a computer 23 hours a day creates could certainly use the sun; it’s great exercise bobbing around out in those waves, dodging sharks and stingrays and whatnot; and I’m sure that even our new puppy would love a day of running around on the sand, trying to catch frisbees that are three times the size of her  … just as long as she didn’t have to go anywhere near the actual water, that is…

Also, one other thing – it’s the beach! Who needs an “excuse” to go kick back and relax on the beach all day?!

I’m sure that plenty of people in landlocked states would love the chance on any given day to be able to just walk along the white, sandy beaches and take a rejuvenating dip in the bathwater-temperatures of the Gulf of Mexico on a random whim, as opposed to a frigid splash in some of those lakes up north that are frozen over half the year and lucky to be pushing 55 degrees in the summertime!  I remember those frigid waters all too well because I went SCUBA diving in them many, many times when I lived there, and all I’ve got to say is that as far as I’m concerned, the only ice cubes that I ever want to encounter at the beach had better be in my glass, not floating alongside me in the water!

But just like how when you live in Seattle, you’re expected to be a rugged mountain man who can hike twelve miles up the side of a cliff and sustain yourself on nuts and berries for weeks, or how when you live in Vegas you owe it to the rest of the world to be partying hardcore 365 days a year like those guys in The Hangover, despite how absolutely horrible I thought that movie actually was, I suppose you could say that likewise those of us here in the Sunshine State really have an obligation to our wooly, bundled-up brethren of the north, some of whom really only ever see warm weather on television or read about it in picture books, to really get out there and enjoy basking in this beautiful, sunny weather, with all of the beaches and bikinis and ridiculously warm water that it has to offer just as much as humanly possible!

So I guess it’s time that I started living up to the eternally laid-back, impeccably tanned standards that us Floridians have been saddled with by living here smack dab in the middle of this subtropical paradise of ours.  Sure, it may be tough to justify spending countless hours of each day doing nothing but soaking up the sun and lounging around with our toes in the sand all summer, but just as those in New York City must embrace being pretentious and drinking martinis at four in the morning in their city that never sleeps, this waterfront wonderland is our burden to bear, beach volleyball tournaments and all.

Besides, better enjoy it while we can – in a few months that water is going to get back down to 70 degrees again … what kind of uncivilized polar bear would swim in water like that?!

Ever wonder what it would be like if you were a superhero?

Because I sure as hell do!

Sometimes I’ll spend hours upon hours on end just sitting around pondering super powers – is it better to go with lightning speed or just jump straight to flying?  Would I rather be invisible or have x-ray vision??  Or if I could shoot laser beams out of my eyes, what color would I want them to be???  These are the kinds of questions that can keep a guy like me up at night, which might not be such a bad thing because, really, isn’t that when danger tends to be afoot anyways?

Of course, even Superman will tell you – you can’t just pick ­all of the superpowers … that wouldn’t really leave much room for variety, now would it?  The day that Everything Man comes to town is the day that Spider-Man, Green Lantern, Captain America, and Iron Man are all out of a job!  Besides, they didn’t call them the Fantastic One or the X-Man – what’s the point of having a whole team of amazing superheroes if one guy is just going to hog all of the best powers to himself?!

Granted, with hundreds if not thousands of caped crusaders already on the books, you might find it tough to choose powers that are unique enough to make a brand new superhero stand out in a crowd, but I’m free on weekends so here are a few that I’ve been working on for a while!  Even better yet – I’ve taken the liberty of coming up with superpowers that are all sorely needed here in the Sunshine State today, for any heroes looking to relocate south in time to catch some of that scorching summer heat that Florida’s unfortunately known for…

Able to Revoke Drivers Licenses with the Blink of an Eye
Here in the state where retirement-related ruckuses run rampant, there should be no shortage of work as this hero sends those who can’t see over the steering wheel anyways back behind the Parcheesi board where they belong!

Sunscreen Spray Fingertips
Sure, they’ve got cans, but why not take it a step further and add a more personal touch?! This one could be a real hit on the beaches, and may even lead to meeting some new damsels for future protection from distress, if you catch my drift…

Wait Line Time Shifting Capabilities
110 minutes for Space Mountain does seem a bit excessive, doesn’t it?!  What better way to “save” millions of theme park fans than by making that time pass like it was nothing at all???

Gator Grip
You ever watch one of those Animal Services people try to fish an alligator out of somebody’s swimming pool?  It ain’t easy, that’s for sure, so why not call in a superhero who’s a little more equipped to deal with the situation???  Maybe he could even throw them into the sun or something for show afterwards … that might be kinda cool!

Air Conditioning Flight Path
And last but not least, hands down the power that would make for the most popular superhero in Floridian history!  Wherever this hero flies will remain a pleasant 73 degrees even in balmy July, and there will be much rejoicing…

There’s enough for five separate superheroes right there! Call ‘em The Floridian Five, or The Sunshine Avengers, or The Colossally Cool Commandos. Ok, so maybe we still need to work on the team name, but the hard part is basically done, right?!  Now all we need is five strapping, young lads and lasses, fresh from the spandex uniform factory who are ready to spread the words of justice and skin care safety to make this fair state a better place for tourists and hot chicks on the beach alike.

And for coming up with the whole thing, I’ll be their leader … you can call me Captain Modesty, the most brilliant, handsome, and undeniably hilarious head honcho the superhero community has ever known!  We fight crime, and also alligators, and no longer will our citizens be forced to endure 2-hour wait times for attractions that are over in less than 90-seconds.  Not in this town, not on our watch…

They say that over 1,000 people move here to the great state of Florida every single day, and really, who could blame them?!  Sun, fun, and a distinct lack of devices designed specifically for the moving of snow from one place to another … trust me, once you’ve spent 15 hours a week dedicated purely to just moving snow out of your way, the arguments against relocating to a state that instead has the word “sunshine” built right into the official slogan tend to become few and far between…

I should know – it was just about seven years ago that I made that very same transition from winter wonderland to heat wave heaven myself and really, despite those random sleepless nights when I just yearn for snowplows and my favorite shovel, I wouldn’t have it any other way!

Of course, I suppose if there was but one problem to be highlighted when we talk about the notion of moving south to a state with far fewer snow-related anythings, it’s simply that nobody ever tells us northern transplants really what to expect when we get here from our frozen tundra counterparts where snowmen and polar bears and winter jackets are commonplace!  There’s no book to read, or even just a pamphlet to flip through while enjoying your complimentary glass of orange juice on your way past the welcome center once you enter the Sunshine State – nothing to tell you which sides of the street the elderly drive their golf carts on (hint: all of them), or which seasons to expect the largest influx of tourists (again: all of them), or even simply that alligators do, in fact, live in places other than the Everglades!

Nope, instead us newbies are simply expected to just figure it out for ourselves, just like our predecessors did before us, and theirs before them, which might work in some cases – I mean, sure, giant lizards munching on your rhododendrons might be a bit of a surprise the first time around, but if you ask me, a little unexpected gator with your morning paper is nothing compared to an even more vicious predator that also happens to be native to our State of Florida as well.  Frankly, now that I stop and think about it, I’m not even entirely sure that anything could help to prepare a Florida newcomer to the dangers that stem from these vile, blood-thirsty savages, but in reality, I suppose that anything to raise general awareness helps when we’re talking about the wildly aggressive, trained killer that is … the Florida Telemarketer, or Obnoxious Scam-Artius.

Preying on unsuspecting, new residents to the Sunshine State by tricking them into thinking that they’ve instantly won free cruises or amazing timeshare opportunities that they simply won’t find anywhere else, these slimy scavengers feed off of a gullibility that is actually quite common in those who have recently packed up their lives and made such a pilgrimage in search of a warmer climate.  Armed with the suggestion that one really can get something for nothing, they pounce on the exhausted and offer bargains that would in practice put cruise lines and timeshares out of business, if not for all of the hidden fees and vacation surcharges that lurk within the depths of the fine print, that is…

It was but only a couple of weeks ago that I found something in the mail that served as a pleasant reminder of the first, and thankfully only time that I, myself, got sucked into the hype by these relentless profiteers shortly after I moved to Florida back in 2003.  It had all started with finding an exciting message on my answering machine about winning a free cruise to The Bahamas, and eventually ended with the disappointed realization that $400 in “fees” was just a tad bit “expensive” for what the fine folks at Cheap Ass Travel Unlimited were calling a “free cruise!” Luckily, I think I only got about $75 into the “deposits” before the something fishy’s going on here-alarm went off and I stopped returning the extraordinarily urgent phone calls left by my official Cheap Ass Travel Agent asking that I pay off my remaining “fees” and “secure my free vacation today.” Eventually, the calls stopped and I was left to mourn the loss of my $75 in peace, but if anything, at least a lesson was learned from that experience.

On the upside, it was after that vacation-related scamming I knew that I had officially became a bona fide Florida resident … well, it was either then or that day when I had to wrestle a gator out of the only free parking space left at my apartment complex – both were pretty memorable in my book, although whereas I still like to consider myself on speaking terms with that alligator, I’m not so sure that I’d say the same for Craig V. with Cheap Ass Travel.  But despite my finally catching on to his shenanigans $75 into the scam, clearly good, old Cheap Ass is still doing ok with roping in the unsuspecting or I wouldn’t have received another fantastic offer in my mailbox just last week…

The thing is this, folks – while we may never be able to stand up against giant lizards or even the elderly in all of their 15mph glory, we can band together to put a stop to telemarketing scams right here and now by discouraging gullibility amongst our friends and family, especially if they’ve got Jimmy Buffett on the brain and have been talking about heading on down south on a permanent basis.  Seriously, feel free to just smack them right upside the head if that’s what it takes – for the amount that you’ll eventually save them in port fees and docking surcharges and cruising taxes, they’ll be thanking you when their vision finally returns to normal!

Remember, friends don’t let friends think that they’re getting 4-days and 3-nights in The Bahamas for free…

So Tuesday officially marked the beginning of June, and thus also welcomed us into the beginning of Hurricane Season here in the Sunshine State.  The NOAA is predicting that 2010 will see an “above normal” level of hurricane activity with conditions that resemble some “very active” seasons from years past.

Upon hearing this news, the average Floridian replied, “Meh…” and will do precisely nothing to prepare for our potentially imminent destruction…

And don’t be deceived – hurricanes are bad! Think like the movie Twister, but also with lots of water, and alligators replacing the cows that were sent flying through the air like Frisbees … sorry, Tornado Belt folks, but when push comes to shove, getting hit in the face with a giant reptilian beast with even more gigantic teeth trumps getting hit in the face with your average dairy cow any day of the week!  I think even the cow would agree with that particular allegation…

Nonetheless, I guess it’s not that we don’t care … well, ok – for some of us that’s exactly what it is … but I think for the majority it’s just that we don’t care in any resemblance of a preparatory fashion. Call it a result of overly embracing our laid-back, beachfront lifestyle, or maybe just eight too many margaritas, but unless those 120mph winds are literally knocking on our front door (while floodwaters are simultaneously slipping in underneath), somehow the threat of having to kayak down the block just seems too farfetched to be worth the hassle of actually getting up and going to the store.

Then again, not for nothing, but it is really hot here in Florida in the summertime!  I mean, seriously – who wants to go lugging around cases of water and extra sandbags when it’s 95 degrees in the shade outside?!  Forget that…

Of course, unfortunately the end result of our storm-surge-oriented apathy here is that when it does come time to batten down the hatches and ensure the survival of our wee suburban communities, it’s damn near impossible to buy little more than an empty water jug and some stray Pop-Tart crumbs because at this point we’ve been succinctly beaten to the punch by a quaint, little group of paranoid residents that I like to refer to as The Overly Prepared. You’ve probably seen them around – these are the same folks who put blankets over their bushes and spend their afternoons enforcing the local HOA guidelines, and whereas the rest of us would be satisfied with a case or two of water and a few canned goods out in the garage, these folks won’t rest until they’ve got enough reserves stored up in their hurricane bunker to refill the swimming pool from scratch and rebuild city hall entirely out of tin cans!

In this particular setting, you’ll see them as you come walking out of the store empty-handed, each member of the family pushing a separate shopping cart brimming with cases of water and canned goods as if they’re stocking up the Great Pyramid, the only comic relief left being in watching them try to fit several hundred gallons of water into the family minivan.  “I’ll come back for you and the kids later, honey!” Dad’s anxiety announces as he finishes loading the precious cargo into each and every passenger seat before slowly puttering out of the parking lot in the severely overweighed suburban transport.

By now it should be pretty obvious what you need to do, though – just find out where these people live and move next door to them! If you hurry, Dad should be pretty easy to tail by the sparks emitting from his back bumper scraping the ground, and sure, they might be a little obnoxious the rest of the year, but hey, hurricane season is technically six months long, so in my book not having to be on watch half the year is well worth the random lawn care critiques and awkward dinner parties.  And no need to worry about mooching – trust me, at this point with that many kids, your taking a few cases of water off his hands in your time of need is the least of his worries, so no need to feel guilty about it!

Besides, it’s either my plan or you actually have to get up from the couch and go buy all of that crap yourself in this heat!  You do realize that a single gallon of water weighs eight pounds, right?

Yeah, that’s what I thought…

Folks, I don’t want to sound like a buzz kill here, but nonetheless I feel the distinct need to clear something up.  Specifically – it’s November here in Florida.

You know the month – smack dab right there on your calendar between Garfield Trick or Treating for Lasagna and Odie Dressed Up as a Reindeer.  It’s a 30-day period traditionally known for turkeys and Thanksgiving and eventually also transcending the seasons from autumn into winter.  Most important of all, though, is the simple point that the month of November is not in what you would consider “the summer” … also known around these parts as The Season of Air Conditioner Appreciation.  I know that Florida tends to get stereotyped as the state that doesn’t experience actual “seasons,” but that’s simply not true.  Our seasons may be significantly less dramatic than those experienced around the rest of the country – i.e. we’ve never had to “get up early to go shovel out the car” … thank god!  But we do still see colder weather towards the end of the year and there are several days when we even have to dig out *gasp* long sleeve shirts!

All gloating aside, however, the real reason that I wanted to bring all of this up is because this ugly “no seasons” stereotype carries right over to a very time-honored tradition here in Florida that when not thought through can lead to devastating, often times shriveling results.  That activity, of course, is swimming.

You see, people don’t realize it because the Florida that they see on TV and in the movies uses those fancy special effects and digital editing these days, but believe it or not, there comes a time here even in the Sunshine State where the water, simply put, is f-ing freezing! Sure, it may not have icebergs in it or be frozen over like bodies of water in some northern states that shall remain nameless, but still, if you think that you’re coming to our state to simply “hang out at the pool” between, oh say, late September and March, you’re either a polar bear or at the very least in for quite the rude awakening!

Also shrinkage, guys – think about it.

“I know, I know…” you hear me say sympathetically.  “It’s just not fair.  It’s still 70 degrees out – that’s warm, right?!” But we both know that water temperature and air temperature are two different things … well, *I* know that, anyways.  And if you’d like to test this theory of yours out by dipping the twins into the shivery 60 degree depths, by all means be my guest!  Just don’t come crying to me when you’re resembling raisins in all the wrong areas, wondering why you can’t have kids while also asking me to autograph my latest book for your nephew, even though we both know that it’s really for your wife to make up for ruining her favorite blouse in the washing machine with that black pen you forgot to take out of your pants pocket.

Besides, there are still lots of great things that one can do here in Florida during the cooler months that don’t involve losing one’s toes, genitals, and other appendages in no particular order to an icy grave.  For example, you could find somebody who has a heated pool or spend your hard-earned dollars at one of our many fabulous theme parks, many of which have plenty of twisty-turny roller coasters that will jostle your insides to the point where swimming will be the last item on your agenda for the immediate future.  Or even better yet, you could always just do what us locals do during this time of year – be thankful that it isn’t hurricane season – that always helps to warm my bones after a cold and blustery day!

Just remember that unlike many of life’s other challenges, this is one that copious quantities of beer cannot solve and if you think waking up next to someone whose name you can’t remember is bad enough, imagine that they don’t have any toes because they thought that every droplet of water within the boundaries of Florida was like bathwater all the time! The truth is, that doesn’t actually apply until mid-March, which is coincidentally right around spring break, so until then you’re still welcome to come and visit, but you might want to bring a book.

…either that or just stay where you are and enjoy all of that shoveling – it’s really your call!

Yeah, yeah – you can probably see where this one’s going before I even get started…

So as you can probably discern from the lovingly flattering photo, yours truly got burned recently, and not so much in the investing in Internet stocks … on margin!-sort of way as the genius thought he was putting on an adequate quantity of sunscreen, but apparently wasn’t-method of getting oneself scorched.  Now I’m stuck for the next three weeks looking like a lobster on his way to his last supper.  Why does it always have to come to this???

Oh, that’s right – the lack of sunscreen! How quickly I forget … it’s almost hard to believe I live in Florida sometimes, isn’t it?

But you see, I guess that’s part of the problem because for the most part, I don’t really ever go “outside” – at least not during the summertime months down here!  It’s always 180 degrees out, with a humidity roughly equal to an Olympic-sized swimming pool worth of water for each man, woman, and child stupid enough to step out from behind the safety of their air conditioned cocoons – does any part of that sound appealing to you?! Besides, it’s three months out of the year – the other nine are beautiful, and none of them are filled with snow, unlike my previous northern abode, so in comparison I actually think laying low for ten weeks as opposed to ten months isn’t really all that bad of a deal…

Of course, just try selling that argument when people come to visit.

It’s like that old saying about how you never seem to do all of the neat things your town has to offer except for when people come to visit, however in this case instead of going to the wax museum or the local discothèque, we instead found ourselves going to the beach … at three in the afternoon … in the middle of summer, and while don’t get me wrong, I love me some beach, but at three in the afternoon in the dead of summer?  Not so much!

Believe it or not, though, that’s not even the worst of it.

Frankly, I was a little put off when I discovered later that evening just how badly I’d gotten burnt because while usually I scoff at the thought of slathering on sunscreen and feeling all gross and slimy for the rest of the afternoon when I’m out and about, this time I actually even succumbed to said sliminess and sprayed it on like a pro … or so I thought.  I then proceeded to frolic amongst the waves without a concern in the world … at least not with regards to getting singed by those harmful UV rays from our mother sun.

Sure, there was still an underlying concern about getting eaten by something so terrifying that it regularly gets its own week on the Discovery channel, but as far as I’m aware they don’t exactly make a spray for that, and even if there was some sort of Shark Repellant Bat Spray currently available on the market, that’s an entirely different column for another day…

So really, what’s a closet heliophobiac to do here with this chemically-flawed conundrum?  I get burned when I don’t put on sunscreen, and yet I also mysteriously get burned when I do put on sunscreen.  It doesn’t take a solar astronomer to figure out that something is afoot here and I intend to get to the bottom of this just as soon as … I can move more than three inches without my shoulders feeling like someone is slow-roasting them over an open fire.  Ow ow ow – good lord, does that hurt!  Whew…

You know, it might be a few weeks – you might want to check back with me later.

Let’s play a game, folks!  It’s just a little something I’ve cooked up in my spare time lately called Things You Never Want to Hear in Florida … in July, and it goes a little something like this: simply choose from the following what you think would be the worst possible thing to hear mid-summer here in the Sunshine State of Florida…

a)      ”The AC’s not working.”
b)      “We’re all out of rum.”
c)      “There’s an alligator at the front door and he looks pissed.”

If you answered A – “The AC’s not working,” you win the prize, which coincidentally is this nice box fan from Wal-Mart that sure would’ve been nice at my house a couple of days ago when tragedy struck our quaint, Floridian household here in the dead of summer!  As for those of you who opted for pina coladas or giant lizards as your answers … well, despite the stereotypes or your apparent alcoholism, let it be known that either one of those things on their own don’t even stack close to the idea of Florida living, au natural.

Maybe both of them put together might come a little closer because hey, when the Bacardi doth runneth dry, opening the door to see if the lizard on the other side came bearing fruity coconut and pineapple-flavored refills may very well sound entirely reasonable, but of course, that’s an entirely different column altogether…

But regardless, by far the worst is still having the air conditioning just mysteriously die without warning, and if it happens after business hours like mine so conveniently did recently, then all the better!  Really, there’s nothing quite like coming home at about eleven o’clock at night after a long and grueling day, only to find that it’s rapidly approaching 85 degrees inside your humble abode … and it’s still warmer outside than it is inside … and there’s no breeze outside whatsoever, even if opening up windows was a minute possibility.  If there was ever a time to call in a favor from that friendly, neighborhood repair guy whose fence you had recently helped paint, now would’ve been a wonderful time to call in said favor!

Unfortunately, though, I have no such recently painted neighbor, and even if I did, chances are *I* wouldn’t have been the first one out the door on a blisteringly hot Sunday afternoon to help him save a few bucks by painting it himself!  Remember, with the Florida heat and all?! So there I, my better half already sweaty and less than thrilled because she’d gotten home several hours prior and was clearly done with this whole no AC conundrum – the two of us destined to bear the brunt of this lack of proper household cooling for at least the next twelve hours or so, all depending – of course, on just how available the repair guy would be to come relieve us the next morning.

And the trouble is that really when you think about it, there’s not a whole lot you can do when such a disaster strikes and you find yourself sweating to the oldies, minus the spandex and a creepy Richard Simmons frolicking around on TV.  Sure, you could spend the night eating popsicles with the refrigerator door propped open, or maybe just make the best of it by falling asleep in the tub, but either is going to leave you in pretty rough shape the following morning … assuming you can actually get out of the bathtub after what I can only imagine would be one of the worst sleeping positions ever!  Nonetheless, my wife and I finally opted to endure the old-fashioned way – by opening all of the windows, turning the ceiling fan in our bedroom up to blow everything that isn’t bolted down around the room in a frenzy, and simply hope for the best.

A matter of hours later, as the sun came peeking up from behind the trees, with songbirds chirping all about, we awoke, knowing that the worst had passed.  Well, there were papers strewn in every corner of our bedroom, it was still scathingly hot, and at one point throughout the night I could’ve swore I heard a wild animal of some sort clawing at the window, but other than that, we were good to go!  Now thoroughly drenched in sweat, we waited for the repair guy to come and lend us his services, which would promptly return us to the land of the civilized.

Twelve hours, folks!  That’s how long I went without air conditioning one hot and sweaty night in July of the year 2009, and frankly, those were probably the twelve worst hours that I’ve had since I moved to Florida over five years ago.  The human body just isn’t designed to endure non-conditioned air, much less temperatures with the digits 8 and 9 in them!  It’s something that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemies … well, maybe that one guy, but that’s what you get for cutting in front of me in line for It’s a Small World. No remorse!

So the moral of our story today, simply put, is this – if you live in Florida, don’t ever put yourself in a situation where you could possibly be without air conditioning for more than, oh say, four and a half minutes, max. Buy a second backup air conditioner, make a copy of your neighbor’s keys the next time they’re out of town, or even – dare I suggest it – actually help your friendly neighborhood repairman paint his fence one weekend, if for no other reason than so you can call him in the middle of the night should such an occasion as this arise in the future!  If he doesn’t have a fence, build one for him – trust me, three weeks of digging post holes and hammering boards will be time well spent if it might help you avoid spending seven or eight hours sleeping in a pool of your own sweat.  Whatever it takes, really…

Don’t let your household become just another sweaty, broken air conditioner-related statistic.

Can a brother spare a gallon? A cup? Maybe even just a tablespoon?! Because frankly, my lawn will take just about anything you can give it at this point!

I don’t know if the rest of the universe has heard, or even if you guys care for that matter, but here in Florida we’re experiencing a bit of a water shortage right now … which I know is more than a little ironic, seeing as how the Sunshine State is surrounded on three sides by water and our main tourist attraction outside of Mickey Mouse Land is the freaking beach, but alas, it seems that there’s not much that we can do with such copious amounts of salt water other than frolic around in a carefree manner in its presence, and although that actually sounds pretty good right about now, no quantity of wet and wild, bikini-clad ladies is going to help make my grass turn green again.

…sorry, ladies…

So needless to say, we’re in just a little bit of a panic down here, or at least our fearless leaders are as they attempt to conserve water by any means necessary. Of course, watering lawns and washing cars were obviously the first to go, along with turning off those cool, ornamental fountains that gurgle water so prestigiously on promenades throughout the city. We’ve even heard hair-brained ideas as bad as attempting to restrict restaurants from openly handing out glasses of ice water to patrons unless they specifically request it, and even then I think it’s only supposed to be considered “on loan.”

Don’t ask how the whole “return policy” works … let’s just say that people start to get a little desperate when the swimming pools runneth dry around these parts!

I guess the funniest part of the whole situation is that while here in April, we’re clamoring for water like our frozen Margaritas depend on it and the fate of the backyard barbecue as we know it is at stake, check back with us in about a month and a half when we’re entering into the “stupid rainy season” where everyday is a banner day for the umbrella salesmen of the Sunshine State and no doubt we’ll be singing a very different tune. You know, when “What do you mean I can’t even wash my car?!” becomes “Ahhh, screw it – let the rain take care of it…” and errands that don’t get ran by 3:00pm are gonna have to wait until later for fear of melting … but hey, it still beats getting blown away by a hurricane…

Of course, in the meantime until that liquid gold begins thundering down from the heavens with a vengence once again, life here in the Sunshine State of Florida … the floppy-hat-wearing tourism capital of the world, home to former heavyweight champion Hollywood Hulk Hogan, and the proud host of 14 Olive Garden restaurants (featuring the never-ending pasta bowl), is going to be a little different from that carefree, aquatic-loving lifestyle to which we’ve become accustomed. We’re all going to have to make some sacrifices along the way, whether it be by learning to enjoy wading in the family pool as opposed to actually swimming in it, by sneaking into the bathroom and turning off the faucet while other people are brushing their teeth (just in case they didn’t learn that conservatory gem back in kindergarten), or even by simply ordering that next fruity, umbrella-laden drink without ice – remember, every little bit helps!

I, for one, have been doing my best to help do my part my by continuing to be too lazy to care about washing my car until this dry spell is over. Mind you, I tried going even above and beyond to call of duty by also being too lazy to care about doing the dishes, the laundry, and pretty much anything else that required getting up from my comfy location smack dab in the middle of the couch, but in retrospect that ended up just creating a whole new mess of problems to boot…

But never fear, my fellow Floridians, for we will drudge through this depressing drought, we will come together as a state and rebuild our region’s water reserves, and with the hard work and dedicated conservation efforts of each and every one of us, eventually we will all be able to shower again some day!

What’s that, you say? It’s not that bad of a drought?!

Good to know…