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Malibu in My Lungs

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The Franklin Wildfire in Nearby Malibu

When the dry Santa Ana winds blow in from the desert, every tree, every cactus, every bush is at risk of being involved in a wild conflagration that eats up vast tracts of land. Such is the Franklin Fire in Malibu, which, after a week of rampant destruction, is only 54% contained.

Alas, a good part of the ash from that fire is contained in my lungs. It causes my nose to run, punctuated by mammoth sneezes that shake the walls of my abode. As the crow flies, I am only a few miles from Malibu Canyon, ground zero for the worst damage.

I have driven Malibu Canyon Road many times en route to Malibu Creek State Park, which is where the M*A*S*H television show was filmed.

After I was on crutches for two years, I had a crutch-burning party at Tapia Park around 1969. Unfortunately, the flames have destroyed Tapia Park where I celebrated being able to walk again without sticks.

If we get some rain soon, I will be able to go through the day without forcibly expelling ash from my lungs every few hours.

The Man With the Hyperactive Head

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My dentist always twits me about my chewing my teeth into oblivion. I do not think I grind my teeth at night, but she thinks I do. And there are the ruined sites of three of my long lost upper teeth. two bicuspids and a molar. She also thinks I live on a diet of jalapeño chile peppers.

In truth, there is something violent about my visage. Take my sneezes: They are so powerful that I have to be prepared to go to the bathroom after a sneezing fit. I find facial tissues to be useless, as I tend to blow them to smithereens. Like my father, I frequently rupture a capillary when I erupt. In my case, it’s usually in my left nostril.

Then there are my sinuses. Whenever there is a major change in the weather (which in L.A. means just about always), I turn into mucus man. I frequently wake Martine up with my snorting, sneezing, and nose-blowing. As she has a tendency to be insomniac, she usually requests that I transfer my drainage to the couch in the living room.

Then, too, my eyelids are constantly irritated with blepharitis. In certain times of the year, usually winter, spring, summer, and fall, my eyelids itch and generate an annoying discharge.

What’s next for me? Great gobs of earwax sticking out of my ears? Saliva that roars like a waterfall? Is my head just too damned loud?