So I met my son, Josh, at the gym Wednesday for our daily 90 minutes of mutually administered physical abuse. I had some things for him in my trunk, so we took an extra few minutes to carry them to his car. It was around 4 in the afternoon and it was freakin’ COLD. I don’t mean the San Diego wimp kinda 63? cold, I mean 42? I’m in gym shorts and a tank top freezin’ my butt off cold.
The cold dark sky opened up and yet it didn’t start raining. Oh nnoooo. The clouds commenced, without warning to hail. Hail in San Diego — not unheard of, but not exactly yer everyday winter event. This hailstorm was goin’ medieval on my Bawld and UNCOVERED head. Talk about the death of a thousand arrows. Holy Geez — it hurt. Ever seen a 50-something year old BawldGuy haulin’ buns in a parking lot, dodging parked AND moving cars for about 80 yards?
BawldGuy Axiom: Pieces of ice falling from 2-4,000 feet high at great velocity will generally cause pain when they collide with a Bawld head. This is magnified when it happens several hundred times within a very short time span.
.
Sure, go ahead — laugh. Hell, the visual is funny to me — now. One might inquire as to Josh’s whereabouts while I was under unrelenting attack. A fair question. Here’s the sad answer. Hauling his buns about 20 yards or so ahead of the poor hairless (and defenseless) bastard who made his existence possible. There will be repercussions.
He’d apparently made the battlefield judgment it was every man for himself.
That’s OK — his dad has a long memory. The wheel? She is round, and she will turn.
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Oh, pooh hoo. Jeez oh flip. One day of non-68 degree weather and you have to post about it?
Kinda chafes doesn’t it?
Hey, we’re lightweights here. We can’t handle anything lower than 45 degrees.
That was a cold one. I didn’t venture outside at all.