An Attack

Posted on March 14, 2005 in Body Language Driving

I’d planned to do things today. Get a haircut. Buy some pens. Purchase some new razors. But the wind blew off the mountain and the gardeners mowed the lawn. A peppery scent invaded my nostrils. As I walked to my truck, the foehn blew a branch out of a tree in front of me. I kept going, got in the alpine green Frontier, and drove down the hill.

I am one of those hay fever sufferers who gets nauseous. Yes, it is a bona fide symptom. For some reason, I don’t get much of a post-nasal drip or red eyes or any of the other classic symptoms. I just throw up. Today, I got about two miles from my condo and had to turn back. As I passed Glenn Ranch Road, I knew I couldn’t make it all the way. At Ridgeline, I made my left, parked, and ran across the street, shouting my breakfast into a clump of bushes with yellow pom-poms. A label-less brown beer bottle witnessed my distress. I knelt there for about ten minutes, then went home to take a benadryl and drink fresh water.