...Sanitarium. He’s in the Hudson River Sanitarium It was a very hot late June Friday in upstate NY. The heat and humidity sucked the moisture from me and soaked my clothes. Every where I went I was sweating, hot, fidgety, miserable, angry, frustrated, uncomfortable, thirsty, short tempered, and typically pissed off. Cruising the byways of Fishkill NY with my brother and my SiL (sister in law) we all decided that the heat would make anyone a little nutty. It was sure working its mojo on me and the main reason I tried to not talk, answer everyone politely and not shift in my clothes too quickly (or my scrotum would rip apart and the day would be complete). It was past Africa hot. It was east coast, people dying in their house, soaked shirt, soaked shorts, shiny face, matted hair, wheezing, huffing, puffing, lip sweat, pitted out, without a doubt - hell for us out of towners. The heat was exhausting. At the end of our first day there a Friday I told myself if I can get past this heat
From my Dad, who can fracture an "ism" with the best of them: "You can lead a horse to water but that is water under the bridge."