Tragically, I was born uncooperative.

It's a better title than it seems at first. I mean it could say, Tragically, I was born. That's depressing, though.

The Tampa Tribune did a whole bunch of Haiku's to...(drum roll, please)...Love Bugs. Most of you are probably saying, "What?" right about now. It's a Florida thing. I first learned about them as I commuted by Kawasaki motorcycle between Seffner and Mulberry to my gate guard job at the phosphate plant. I sat in a little glass building, logging the side number and time of each truck entering or leaving the plant. It was mind numbingly exciting work and paid close to $2.80 an hour. It did, however, give me some time to sit, ponder things, and absently pick the love bugs out of my teeth and hair...and eyes, and nose and anything else that had been exposed. Thank goodness I never, ever wore shorts.

Love bugs are larger than gnats and smaller than flies and fly in pairs. They fly in pairs because they are physically connected to each other. I always thought they were joined at the abdomen, the Tribune picture showed them joined more or less at the lips. I think I'm right (because I usually am) but for the sake of compromise I'll just say that they're joined at the end and let you pick whichever end you prefer. Anyway, the bugs are flying in pairs are flying in swarms. You can see a black cloud hanging over the highway and when you get there it's millions and millions of love bugs, consummating their bug love all over the front of your car. It is true. And, it sucks. Here's a brief article to give you a clearer picture: The Kudzu Monthly.

Here's an eye-dear I had. My idea was to have each of you, my faithful fellow travelers, find one person a week to show my blog to. You know, turn them on to it. Tell them it's the coolest blog this side of the next coolest blog. Charge them $2 to show it to them. But build it up like it's something special beforehand, 'cause they'll be harder to fool once they seen it. You and me will split the $2 fifty/fifty. A buck for me and a buck for you. Easy work. Perfectly legal and, except for the lying involved, honest work, too. I bet I can make close to $3 a week if you all pitch in. (Then I'll get that pyramid thing going. I hope.)

My second great eye-dear today involved waffles. If I can figure it out, I'll be a famous some beach. My idea is to lay a thin layer of some waffle batter, get it starting to cook, just enough so's it is becoming crusted over**, then add omelet-like ingredients to it. You know, onions, cheese, scrambled eggs, bacon, etc. Not too much, but enough that you will be able to really taste the flavors. Then pour some more waffle batter on it and close the waffle iron lid. I don't think it will quite work like that (though I haven't actually tried it 'cause I don't have a waffle iron), but it gives you a good idea of what I want to do. Then you have a waffle, but it's like an omelet. A Wamlette, if you will. Toasted, golden waffle outside and breakfast inside. Hmmmm? Great idea, no? Well, that's me. I'm an idea man.

Tomorrow, we re-visit Riegelwood , NC in Part 3 of the never ending snoozefest I called my adolescence.

** But not, I repeat NOT, encrusted. As I have discussed at length with the Coal Miner's Daughter, there are no good encrusted foods.

Samara, out
Travelin' Ed