Mosquito Control Growing up in FM, or anywhere in southwest Florida, meant waking up hearing some plane fly over your house that sounded like a 57 Chevy without tail pipes. Back then we did not have a/c so our only defense to the deafening noise was to stick your head under the pillow. And if that wasnt enough, at dusk the yellow spray truck would come down the street emitting a lethal fog that rivaled pictures Id seen of the fog on the Golden Gate Bridge. If my dad was outside cooking some piece of cheap meat on the charcoal grill, when the fogger passed, it left a rainbow slick on the meat, even hamburgers and hot dogs had it too. And finally, in some sort of act of fatalism, every one of us with a bicycle rode behind the fogger truck peddling as fast as we could and gasping for air or fog with every stroke of the pedal. Were we just plain idiots or did our parents encourage this to get us out of the house? Damn, I hated those planes.
Posted on: Sat, 15 Nov 2014 14:26:55 +0000