A Popsicle is Better Than a Kick in the Ribs

Hey Team,

I was wandering the streets of Fresno yesterday (it’s the easiest way to feel like I’m traveling without having to sleep on a park bench or hitchhike to the grocery store), slowly bringing my brain to a boil, in 105-degree heat. I had only gone about a block before I was just as soaked (although significantly less sexy) as that chick from Flashdance after she pulls the cord. Pretty silly considering the only effort I was exerting was holding up one end of a leash.

Arizona (the puppy holding up the other end of the leash) was too hot to waste energy tugging me along and instead trotted calmly beside me, tongue out, pretending she was well behaved. One more block down, I was starting to think that leaving the house without provisions and a first aid kit probably wasn’t a great idea. My mind had wandered to thoughts of heat stroke and whether or not I could count on Arizona to go find the sheriff if I collapsed. (More likely, she’d lick my face and then run off to find the nearest piece of cat poop to munch on. She’s no Lassie. Yet.)

That’s when the little blue car pulled off to the side of the road at an awkward angle directly in front of me. My first instinct was to assume the fetal position and hope that when they kicked me they wouldn’t damage any vital organs, but before I even had time to drop to the ground and hope for the best the little red-headed teenager asked, “Do you want a Popsicle? We’re giving them out to people we see out walking today.”

Too stunned by the lack of physical pain coming my way, all I could manage was, “Sure!”

Wearing a smile even broader than the one I was already sporting the guy handed me a MUCH appreciated frozen treat.

“Thanks!” I shouted as they were already pulling away. I looked down. “Well, Zona, how do you feel about half a Popsicle?” I took her jumping up at it with wild eyes and an open mouth to mean, “Why yes, good sir, that DOES sound like an excellent solution to my current overheating predicament. I don’t mind if I do.”

It was orange. My favorite.

Furthermore, there was a joke on the stick. “How can you spot a Dogwood tree? By its bark.” How appropriate.

There are great human beings everywhere. Even in Fresno.

I’m done.

Brett.

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