This is the lightning center of the world and scientists come here to study it,
which has caused some of them to walk funny and speak in high voices. 
Today's forecast: Thunderstorms.
So this is a good time to tell you again about my lightning experience.
This is a true story, with one or two lies.
*     *     *     *
Did I ever tell you about my nude conversation with the mayor?
But, before I get into that let me give you some facts you should be aware of
in order to understand my state of mind during the time of the nude exchange.
Central Florida is the lightning center of the world.
Also, bear in mind that I have a serious death fear.

I lie awake nights worrying about earthquakes.
I'm afraid to fly, and afraid to take a train because a plane might hit it.

I know that in the event of a catastrophe I'll be the only one prepared.
I check exits when entering a building, sniff for gas fumes,
and watch for high ground in case of flood.
I lay out my shoes, clothes, and hat before retiring,
in such a way that I'll be able to leap directly from the bed into a fully dressed condition...
Ready for action. If there's ever a fire I'll have to save everybody.

I bought a bunch of burglar alarms that look like doorstops.
These are wedge shaped gadgets that you slide under the door,
and when somebody tries to open it, it holds the door shut and lets out a bloodcurdling noise.
I had just slid the first one under the kitchen door,
when Misty drove into the carport. Aha! She would be my test pilot.
She opened the door, walked right past me, and said this: "Hi. What are you doing on the floor?"
The door had opened outward.

People who don't think about nuclear attack, ptomaine poisoning, tidal waves, etc., are idiots.
They don't understand the seriousness of the situation.
They'll be the first ones I'll have to save, after I get my shoes, clothes, and hat on.
As for lightning, there are certain rules we must follow to avoid death or walking funny.
Don't Be: On a beach, near water, near bedsprings, near a fireplace, on a golf course near plumbing,
on top of a house or hill, in a bathtub, near a cow, under a flagpole, talking to a republican, or in a draft.

I was in the shower, hurrying to get out because it was thundering outside.
I was sort of jumping lightly up and down to break the ground connection.
Lightning always seeks a ground connection.

I keep a phone in the bathroom in case of the big break call from Hollywood I've been expecting.
Anyway, it was thundering, I was washing and jumping, and the phone rang. I thought I'd been struck!
"Hi! This is the mayor", he said as I sprawled on the floor, the back half of me still in the shower.
"I hope I didn't catch you at a bad time." "Oh, no!", I assured him.
I had met the mayor a couple of times, and I thought he might be calling to offer me a big job with the city.
I had often wondered why they never asked me. "Hold on a second, will you, mayor?", I said cheerfully,
as a tree in the backyard was struck by a bolt of lightning that was trying to hit me.

I put down the phone long enough to get my back end out of the bath.
I realized that talking on the phone is another thing you're not supposed to do during a storm,
but how often does the mayor call?

I picked up the phone again and heard him say something and hang up.
"Jeez!", I said. "If you couldn't wait one lousy minute!"
I sat there, dripped, and stared at the phone. "To hell with him and his lousy job!", I thought.

Misty later asked me if something was wrong. She said I had a funny expression.
I told her about the strange call from the mayor, and we hoped he wasn't hitting the sauce.

At eleven o'clock I turned on the news to see if I could JUST ONCE pick out tomorrow's forecast 
from the weather guy's double talk, and I missed it again. Then they showed the tape recorders.

They told how everybody in town got a RECORDED call from the mayor,
concerning some stupid issue that was up for a vote.
They played the tape: "Hi! This is the mayor", it said. "I hope I didn't catch you at a bad time."
"Bite me", I said.