When I was growing up in Orangeburg, South Carolina, I caught a case of the blogs something serious. The pain was bad enough, but it was the way my friends and classmates teased and tortured me that was almost too much to bear.
My sister and I had purchased a live caiman (resembles an alligator) with our own allowance money when our folks took us to Miami for a vacation. It was the first time any of us had been to Florida and I thought it was paradise. I had to have something from there to take back to South Carolina to prove to my friends I had not only been to Florida, but had brought back a souvenir that was almost unimaginably important. I mean I never knew any kids that had their on caiman!
The only reason my sister was involved was I needed her allowance to have enough money for the purchase. For that, I told her she could help me feed the caiman as well as clean up its tank. We named my (my sister said our) pet Miami Vice. Remember we were kids. This was the first reptile we had ever named.
I don’t know if it was the raw bacon or chicken that we fed Miami Vice (MV for short), but two things happened:
1. The damn thing grew exponentially. It grew so fast and became so ferocious I never wanted to see it again. Not only did I want to starve it, I was also thinking about barbequing, cherry bombing, poisoning or sacrificing my sister if the Lord would answer my prayers. I would crank the volume on my record player up full blast and play “See you later alligator, after while crocodile” over and over and over and over.
2. I caught a severe case of blogs. I honestly felt I caught it because I had either come in direct contact with a reptile whose ancestors had been responsible for the plague or because of my willingness to sacrifice my sister.
Anyway, I thought the doctors that examined (but wouldn’t touch me) were just going to shoot me to put me out of my misery. Instead, they used my body as a human dart board to test out their experimental drugs. Some of those so-called medicines made me glow in the dark. Except for the pain and itching it was neat to wake up my sister at night and make the noises of a ghost from Christmas Past.
Anyway, I was eventually cured. Miami Vice died because with all the focus on me no one remembered to feed it. However, the emotional scares of the teasing and ridiculing I got are something I’ll never get over. And now with everybody blogging and no one really knowing there was a little boy in Orangeburg, South Carolina who actually suffered from the blogs long before there was an internet or world wide web.
On a positive note, I developed a great taste for alligator tail.
I feel like it is my sole responsibility to make this species an endangered one. After all, who needs them or their threat of spreading the blogs all over kingdom come?
><(("> Tom Laughon
Tom is affectionately known as BIG ><(("> at Catch Your Limit
Catch Your Limit
Management Guides & Fish Cleaning Services
><(("> Camps in Tallahassee, Florida and Richmond, Virginia
To learn more, visit www.catchyourlimit.com.