This afternoon Florida decided to remind everyone that it barely tolerates our presence and could wipe us out anytime it feels like. The booms came rolling in just as I was getting ready to leave Sci-Fi City after our regular second Saturday game day and changed my plans right quick. Dark skies, nearly horizontal rain, gusting wind, lightning practically right overhead, the whole works. In other words, a Florida summer afternoon.
Pretty much every day from June to August you can look to the west around three or four o’clock and see Independence Day heading your way. Sometimes it’s a big tease that blows by so quickly you don’t get so much as damp. Other times you want to start building an ark and sorting animals. And yet most people just shrug and act like it’s not raining, it’s just really humid. We might have to run for our lives through the parking lot and deal with the power going out, but a little thunderstorm isn’t going to stop us. Same for the tourists; they’re only here for a week, and if they have to death march through the Perfect Storm to see everything, well, hell, they’ll dry off eventually. Life goes on.
Except when it comes to driving. Then, oh no, water from the sky, what sorcery is this? I must slow down to ten miles an hour to observe this wonder! Never mind that it’s done the same thing every afternoon for two months, all this moisture in the air has made me forgot how my accelerator works! I can see slowing down a little bit, but it gets a little cloudy and it’s like a parade breaks out. Maybe everyone figures if they go slow enough, they can save a bundle on running through the car wash and let Mother Nature take care of it.
Still, I’ll take the light shows and the booms and the soaking and the crawling traffic over what you Northerners go through every winter. At least you don’t have to sit around and wait for a thunderstorm to melt before you can leave the house.