Tuesday, July 26, 2022

Storming? Let the Sunshine In!

 

I’m not telling you anything new that you probably already knew. But having recently moved from New York to Central Florida, I never really appreciated the daily thunderstorms that pop up almost every mid-afternoon or early evening, until now.

 It is amazing how quickly the temperature drops from 95* to 83* in mere minutes. It becomes cooler, even though it isn’t. Not really. In New York, we complained about how hot 83* was every day. Trust me, after living here for just over two weeks, 95* doesn’t bother me in the least.

 It is amazing how quickly I became used to the differences in the heat index. I actually have to walk out of my constant 72* air-conditioned home to feel comfortable. It is all relative, I know. The heat, the cool, the change, and even the humidity. Even what used to be oppressive heat with an 88* temperature and 70% humidity on Long Island is just another day of summer in Central Florida.

 I have been asked by my New York and Long Island friends how I like being here. I can honestly say I don’t like it here. Nope. Not Like it. Instead, I LOVE it here. It was a change of life, a better change for living. A long time coming.

Long ago, in 1986, I took my family to Florida in October, while scheduling several job interviews, thinking that the weather would be warm but not oppressive. But as luck would have it, we spent ten of the hottest October days with temperatures in the 90s that late in the year. And of course, we didn’t move.

 And the biggest benefit? I don’t have to be concerned with the wind chill factor or the 7* “real feel” in January and February. I am looking forward to early Springs, late Falls, and one day of Winter. With months of Summer.

So. Let those thunderstorms come every day. For fifteen minutes. And let the sunshine in all the rest of the time.

 I look forward to them.

 


Wednesday, July 13, 2022

A "Rock" Story


I acquired the rock on a Saturday night in April, 1970 in Garden City, New York as I, along with four friends, were coming back from Burger King. We had picked up a couple of Whoppers for a couple of guys who couldn’t fit in my 1966 Mustang.

 As I drove down Nassau Boulevard and under the trestle, I though I saw a  bag and figured I would make it if I ran over it. Of course I thought I could. I had drank a half quart of Jack and a six pack of Colt 45s. The sobering effect of a Whopper and fries did nothing to allay my judgement.

 Bam! I was suddenly alert and aware of what I had just done. My buddies, my friends laughed so hard as we got out of the car to assess the situation.  I said I should take the rock because my Dad would never believe it.

 We pushed the car from Nassau Boulevard to Floral Park, about five miles. We were stopped by two separate cops who found it amusing. As we passed Sewanhaka High School, we took the two Whoppers and tried to push the car over them. Hahahaha. The Whoppers were like boulders.

 We finally got the car home and my cousin's husband put a 1968 305 Cougar engine for $750.

 Over the years, the rock has been with me everywhere I lived: Floral Park, Flushing, Selden, Manorville, Holbrook, East Norwich, Brentwood.  Now, I have brought the rock, and the fond memories associated with it to Florida with me.

 For now, it sits in front of my home, yearning for someone to ask me how it got where it rests for now. But you know the story and some of you have asked me about it before. It awaits that proverbial question.

 How did the rock get here?