Trail of the Firewriter…
2010 Road Trip: Day Twenty-five

It has been unusually cold in Florida this year. Not good for those pushing global warming and not good for the snowbirds seeking the warm sun. Even the migratory birds are wearing sweaters. It was nice and cool for my morning walk. I stopped at McDonalds for a hot coffee and ran into Norman the guy who flew gliders. During our talk he informed me what the lady in the car was really saying when I read her lips and it wasn’t ace in the hole.

I was going to see a movie then hit a couple of pails of golf balls.  I went to a mall near Sanford and saw Jeff Bridges in “Crazy Heart.” He gave an academy award performance. I had parked my car in the farthest corner of the lot so I could add some mileage to my walking program. When I came out it was raining so hard I couldn’t see my car. I stood next to a young lady and her grandmother. They were waiting for a ride. Suddenly the young girl collapsed, falling against her grandmother. I was able to grab her arm and we eased her to the sidewalk. She stiffened and her eyes rolled back. “Is she epileptic,” I asked. No she was not came the answer. It was some other kind of seizure. I identified myself as a retired Detroit Firefighter. I made sure the teenager had a clear airway and was breathing properly. In about five or six minutes she started to come around. We gave her a sip of Gatorade and she sat up. Her mother pulled up in a car and we put her inside and I fastened her seat belt. They thanked me and were gone. It was a scary thing and I felt sorry for the pretty teenager who was cursed with such an affliction. Sometimes we do not realize how lucky we are to have good health.

I went to the Best Buy store located in the same mall. I was looking for a nerd to adjust my camera so when I send pictures they are not oversized. The first time I saw one of my oversized pictures I thought it was Marilyn Monroe’s breast. It had taken forever to load into the computer and I saw a pretty pink nipple on a mound of smooth alabaster skin. When I moved the picture around I found it was actually pimple on my grandson’s chubby cheek. The kid at the store adjusted my camera. I wandered around checking things out.

I came on a husky teenager standing in front of a huge TV screen playing a game. He was an athletic looking kid with no neck. He looked like a football player. On the screen there was a football game in progress. The players looked real. I watched several plays from the offensive player’s view. It was like I was back in high school playing my quarterback position. I could read the middle linebacker vacating his position to help cover the two wide receivers on the right side. I moved next to the kid playing the game and whispered, “Call a quarterback draw. That defense is a sucker for that play. It should gain twenty yards. The kid glared at me and said in a deep voice that sounded like god talking. I’m playing defense mister and I eat quarterbacks like potato chips.  It was time to go. I didn’t want to tell him I was once a quarterback, I was afraid he might turn me into a potato chip.

I missed out on hitting golf balls and went home to help Kathy and Doug watch Jeopardy. They were eating potato chips. I thought, to myself, this was just a bad day for quarterbacks.


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