I hope you’re swaying on a hammock in the warm breeze and enjoying the lazy, charbroiling days of summer. About one month ago, my in-laws invaded our house for an evening of over-eating and excessive noise. My father-in-law brought a DVD with his old super 8 movies, so we all gathered in the family room to watch my wife and her siblings embarrass themselves as little kids. My father-in-law is the world’s WORST videographer and could not hold the camera still or frame a picture if his life depended on it. Hence, after about 30 minutes of shaky pictures and cut off heads, my own head started to throb and pound like an army of grasshoppers was trying to break out of my skull using miniature jackhammers. I figured my father-in-law’s prolific filming ineptitude accounted for the hellacious pain in my temples. Wrong. I went upstairs and got in bed. The pain turned into heat and a fever worthy of the nether-world erupted throughout my body. For ten days. That’s right. Ten days of intense fevers, chills and shakes. Intense pain. No sleep. No appetite. No music. No reading. No television. No sex. It was completely fucked up. On the 7th day of this medical episode, my doctor put me in the hospital and by this time I was such a mess that I couldn’t even walk. At that dark time, a brilliant infectious disease specialist examined me and my fortunes changed for the better. He told me I could have one of about 20 illnesses and each sounded more heinous than the next. However, he felt strongly it was one microbial fucker known as Typhus and gave me an antibiotic specific for it. Three days later the fever broke and I started to get better. A week later, after my body produced enough anti-bodies, blood tests confirmed it was, in point of fact, Typhus. One becomes infected with Typhus by being bitten by a flea from a WILD ANIMAL. Now I live in South Pasadena, which is a suburb of Los Angeles, and the closest thing to a wild animal on our block is my 11 year old daughter. So no one has the slightest clue how I came into contact with an infected flea. I have no memory of being bitten. After 10 days of wanting to be encased in a freezer, I discovered that one doesn’t simply bounce back from Typhus. Rather, one must slowly convalesce and recover strength over a period of weeks. As a result, I missed a substantial amount of time from my work. This cost me money and, more importantly, precious time from my family. I feel great now and I’m pondering the lessons to be learned. In much better news, my new record Idiot Proof is now available on iTunes. Please show your support and buy it. With feverish love, W

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