My father arrived from work a moment ago for the medication ritual. He was loosening his necktie as he walked across my front yard holding my medications in his other hand. He wanted me to quickly tune my television to The Weather Channel. We gazed for awhile until we had to tear ourselves away from the television and complete Maggie's food and water ritual. She was hungry and getting pretty persistently insistent for a moment there.
"Maybe we will get some good rain out of all of these tropical systems," my father told me enthusiastically as he gave the Magster the attention she so craves. "We're parched in central Alabama."
"You picked an opportune time to go to Florida last week," I replied to Johnny Otis. "You almost got caught in a mess."