Leaving work yesterday I hopped enthusiastically into my gas-guzzling SUV, buckled up, and rolled down the windows. It was a balmy 79 degrees and I was excited that spring had finally arrived. I slid Sting into the CD player and sped out of the parking lot like a member of the mass exodus of the Great Plains in 1933.
Cruisin’.
Cruisin’ with Sting.
Cruisin’ with Sting and no kids.
Could anything be better than this?
Okay, cruisin’ with Dwayne Johnson sitting by my side – that would be better….
The windows were down, blonde hair flowing in the wind, voice echoing not so beautifully the words of Gordon Matthew Thomas Sumner and then I see it. It surrounds me; a virtual cloud of dust gliding through the air and covering everything in its path. SHIT! Only one thing equals our hatred to lovebug season and that’s spring in Tallahassee.
I hurriedly close my windows, turn on the air-conditioning, and pray that I’m not too late. Double shit, I am. I grab the grape Gatorade I never finished at lunch as my mouth is so full of pollen my teeth are actually crunching. Triple shit, I’ve forgotten that pollen expands when mixed with any type of moister.
I blindly dig through my purse searching for my Chapstick. I remove the cap and begin applying to my poor, dry lips. I gasp in pain; the barbed pollen particles are being dragged across my mouth leaving behind a trail of jagged and shredded flesh. My eyes become victims of necrosis, exposed too long to the acidic chemical compounds spewed forth by the Loblolly pines. My lungs felt as if they would burst with the need to get uncontaminated oxygen.
And I don’t even have allergies.
Cruisin’.
Cruisin’ with Sting.
Cruisin’ with Sting and no kids.
Could anything be better than this?
Okay, cruisin’ with Dwayne Johnson sitting by my side – that would be better….
The windows were down, blonde hair flowing in the wind, voice echoing not so beautifully the words of Gordon Matthew Thomas Sumner and then I see it. It surrounds me; a virtual cloud of dust gliding through the air and covering everything in its path. SHIT! Only one thing equals our hatred to lovebug season and that’s spring in Tallahassee.
I hurriedly close my windows, turn on the air-conditioning, and pray that I’m not too late. Double shit, I am. I grab the grape Gatorade I never finished at lunch as my mouth is so full of pollen my teeth are actually crunching. Triple shit, I’ve forgotten that pollen expands when mixed with any type of moister.
I blindly dig through my purse searching for my Chapstick. I remove the cap and begin applying to my poor, dry lips. I gasp in pain; the barbed pollen particles are being dragged across my mouth leaving behind a trail of jagged and shredded flesh. My eyes become victims of necrosis, exposed too long to the acidic chemical compounds spewed forth by the Loblolly pines. My lungs felt as if they would burst with the need to get uncontaminated oxygen.
And I don’t even have allergies.
If you’ve never experienced spring in the tri-state area (our tri-state area being Florida, Georgia, and AlaBAMa) there is no way to explain how colorfully–coated our world becomes. I could try to describe the yellowish-green haze that descends upon us but there truly are no words to describe our regional plague.
I’ll go out this weekend and put together a photo-essay so that you too can experience the wonders of Florida in the spring.
Hey, at least it wasn’t lovebugs!
Cartoon from MacGregor collection. Find them here
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