I’d like today’s question I think I prefer cooler seasons because I run kind of hot, but I do have a little story about a winter in Texas and how high to use my wits to avoid disaster.

Anybody who’s lived in north Texas knows the weather there can be quite schizophrenic. The few years I lived in Texas the weather was exceptionally insane, even in the winters.

In 2015 the winter in North Texas near Dallas (Irving) was pretty bad. At the time I was working in Farmers Branch off Midway (if anybody knows where that is). We had a pretty major snowstorm and got close to 8 inches of snow one Friday morning.

It’s not unheard of in Texas, but not terribly common for sure to get snow or ice (I guess I was lucky to get to witness both). They let us out of work early on account of the weather was pretty bad and my Jeep Cherokee had a bad heating core in it. so as a result, I had no heat and no way to defrost the snow and ice that was accumulating on my windshield.

I was on the turnpike and was so far getting along OK luckily, only a few miles from my exit when the car in front of me kicked up a puddle and the puddle hit my windshield and ice instantly. I could not see a thing out of my windshield at this point the windshield wipers were frozen. So I slow down, I didn’t hit the brakes and looked (as best I could) out the side window. I managed to do this for a mile and a half until I arrived at my exit and just as I was getting off the turnpike my windshield wipers became thawed. And they cleared the ice off the windshield and I was able to see again. I safely made it home and counted myself lucky.

Not long after the event, I did get my heating core replaced, but I ended up getting a new car at that point which wasn’t a bad idea as I think that Jeep Cherokee was possessed anyway….

-aaa

I haven’t broken any bones that I know of. Let me further explain that. I am a klutz first class that second not third I went for the gusto with first class. The ground and I we have a very close personal relationship. I’ve taken so many spills and falls in my life. It’s not funny. Who am I kidding? It is funny. I’ve had some spectacular spill, sprained feet, and ankles numerous times and possibly broke one and never knew it. As a result, they hurt nowadays from time to time.

But I’ll tell you something I’m proud of, every time I took a spill I always stuck my crash landing. 🤣

-aaa

Have I ever been camping? that’s very good question, I have to go back many years to recall when I last went camping. I can recall a pretty unforgettable story from childhood, when I was 10.

Once summer at age 10, I went camping with family and friends at the state beaches near Ojai California. We camped out at a beach and park with campsites called “El Capitan”. We enjoyed a great week out there there. Places where the mountains and beach meet are truly a wondrous and beautiful.

It was great, there was a lot of bodyboarding baseball, pickle, and over-the-line. The campfires, outdoor eats, and late night board games. Gorgeous skies so clear you can see the nebula within the Milky Way galaxy. Plus, there were numerous hiking trails we all did as well. Culminating with the family talent show at the end of the week at the outdoor amphitheater next to the campground. The week went by so fast it felt like it was over in a day.

So as the trip came to an end we made our way home. This is where the main part of my story begins. pretty much from the first night we got home my right arm started to itch. Initially, there was no rash or anything that I could, it just itched. I figured it was a mosquito bite or something, the itching wasn’t too bad so I went to bed.

Starting the next day, the itching grew and got to be unbearable on my arm. Now it looked like a scratch that maybe got infected. As I had two dogs residing in my room at the time it seemed possible, or maybe a flea bite. So my mom (like any mom at the ) put Benadryl cream on it sending me on my way. This of course ultimately wouldn’t work.

My itching got much worse and it seemed like the scratches were on both of my arms now. The itching had grown so bad that I couldn’t sleep at this point and hadn’t in a couple of days. Nothing worked or could ease it or bring me comfort . Finally, my mom made an appointment and took me to the pediatrician.

Immediately, she knew what was going on with very little examination. She explained the markings on my skin and the intense itching were a dead giveaway. She opens a cabinet looks through a couple of small boxes and produces two brochures which she hands to my mom and myself. Reading the heading on its cover, a word quickly jumps forward, “S-C-A-B-I-E-S”!

I don’t know, how our said narrator at the tender age of ten contracted a “social disease”? I don’t know how I got it (maybe the bathroom or showers at the campground). Reading the literature that was offered in these pamphlets regarding scabies was beyond disturbing, especially for any nine-year-old.

**Warning Graphic Description Coming Up** 😬😬😬😬

For an instant itching seemed worse when I read my pamphlet and found out what scabies really were. Apparently, (I’m no doctor and if I get this wrong please consult a Grey’s anatomy book for proper definition) there were little spider-like mites, crawling in my skin, eating my skin, laying eggs, and burrowing through creating the trails that looked like scratches. OK, I know, I’m sorry some of you are probably feeling a little disgusted and itchy at this point, trust me I am too. I lived it. 😬🤣

Shaking off the shock and disgust of my (very) local infestation, we make our way to the attached pharmacy. We drop off the prescription and wait about 10 minutes for my name to be called. What I’m supposed to get was a topical cream to ease with the itching and a cream I had to put on overnight to dispose of my unwelcome little invaders.

I sit and wait contemplating the fact that I was essentially being eaten from the inside at that moment. I reread my newly acquired literature and shuddered again at the artistic renderings of these little monsters. My name or number comes up, and my mother and I go to pick up the prescriptions.

Apparently, the pharmacy has a sense of humor, or they made a grave mistake. My topical cream had instructions printed on the box which read, “Apply liberally to rash on groin every four hours!” I looked at my mom and I said “I don’t think the scabies have gotten that far yet” earning me the familiar disapproving look from my mom. I guess my gift at saying the inappropriate started well before age 10, and continues to this day.

My mom and I had to go to the clerk and explain this “groin cream” was obviously given to me by mistake. Apparently the clerk also found the situation rather humorous as well. He asks us to wait while he walks to the back of the pharmacy. He first confers with a pharmacist and they inspect the box, read it and I can see both are laughing. The clerk then confers with a second pharmacist and they’re both laughing as well. I’m starting to wonder if he’s going to do a show and tell for the entire hospital, when he finally returns to us. Informing us the ingredients in the “groin cream” were identical to the topical and that I can apply it to my arms to ease the itching. Embarrassment aside, I didn’t care if this was vaginal cream, I was going to end the itching here and now. Though I did ask for a bag for concealment to prevent anyone else from reading my graphic groin cream instructions before we got out to the parking lot. Bag in my hand, we went home.

As soon as we got home, I applied my groin cream (liberally) to my arms. This ended the itching and I felt relief for the first time in four days. I then would take one of most satisfying naps of my life. Later, before bed, I applied the overnight cream which would permanently take care of my little invaders.

A few weeks later the scratch marks disappeared thankfully before school started. There’d be no need to explain what they were or where they came from.

Needless to say, I only went camping one more time ever after my ‘close encounter’ and frankly, I’m not surprised.

Have a great evening and the you for reading.

-aaa 😊

When I was five I wanted to be a drummer. I saw Stevie Wonder on tv singing Superstition. Watching the drummer smashing that funk beat and I knew that was what I wanted to do.

So I grabbed a couple wooden spoons turned them backwards and used a couple of pots as my first drum kit. I’m sure my parents appreciated it. 🤣🤣 🥁

As a result of my passion, I was in band from age 8 until age 24 and have played in bands in elementary school, high school, and college.

I have been a member the following: Orchestras, Jazz/Big Band combos, matching bands, a percussion ensemble, some Latin Band. Since I can’t go back in time and be Hal Blaine in the Wrecking Crew I am satisfied with my limited but fun musical career.

Unfortunately, I had to pick a day job (Information Technology and Technical Writing) that was more steady but if I had to do over again I’d make a go at it as a professional musician.

-aaa 🪘 🥁 ❤️

I skill I’ve had most of my life and often wish I hadn’t is very strong empathy. This ability is a curse and a gift, I guess.

Often picking up on the emotional vibes of many people around you since childhood is no picnic.

The term ‘empath’ hasn’t been universally accepted until more recently and frankly many people either deny it’s real or fear it.

Statistics show that roughly 20 percent of the population have the s ability (10% men and 10% women split right down the middle).

This ability has shown me when people I loved were lying to me or cheating on me. Also, people’s true intentions and motives. It’s often TMI, and it’s really never happy information.

Worst of all I am a very sensitive guy (most of my life) that is not emotionally clueless or rugged (natured) like men are supposed to be according to societal type.

It’s taken many years to accept this gift and be content with who I am. The world will catch up someday (at least for parents to understand this is how I’ve been since infancy).

There are upsides to being an empath. As a writer I can dial in the emotions which makes my exhibits vivid . As a musician I also play by feel helping me fine tune the notes I create playing the right way at the right time. As a friend/lover I have helped many heal their inner wounds by helping them find the causes and answers by my instincts.

It’s my gift and burden and I know I have it for a reason and embrace it in this phase of my life.

-aaa