The summer heat having broken here in St. Pete Beach, Frank decides to take some sun on the Gulf.

Now, we don't want to imply that Frank has let himself go since he came to Florida. Or that he's had too many breakfasts at Skyway Jack's. Or had too many 'Nooners' and dinners at Leverock's. Or has taken too many drinks at Gumbo's. Or that every time he gets his car serviced he races over to Bob Heilman's Beachcomber in Clearwater Beach for Bob's famous Back-To-The-Farm Chicken (and to HELL with the Scientologists and Lisa Marie Presley, John Travolta, et al!).

And yet....He was lying on the beach for no more than five minutes when a bunch of 'Save the Earth' types, mistaking him for a beached whale, rushed over, doused him with buckets of cold water, and tried to push him into the Gulf of Mexico. Having failed that, they wrapped him in wet burlap and rolled him onto a stretcher. He was hitched to a helicopter and flown to the Forida Aquarium in Tampa. Semi-comatose and unable to protest or defend himself, he was helpless. Suddenly, an aquarium person approached bearing a triple sized turkey baster filled with antibiotics. When he saw where the baster was targeted the adrenalin started flowing. Frank rallied in time to thwart the assault on his retral nether region. The day was saved.

Needless to say, Frank has since limited his sunbathing to the privacy of his own deck.

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