Bear with me a couple of minutes, because the story takes a while to get where it is going. I grew up on the edge of the bayou in a little community that’s called a fish camp. Ours was a series of small docks plus piers surrounded by a half dozen little businesses and about twice as many stilt houses. Every one of us lived there all year round, catering to the tourists who wanted to try their hand at fishing or hunting out in the bayou. Our family ran the bait stand, plus we also did some guided tours whenever there was enough demand for them. It was not until I was 12 years old or so that I ever felt A/C for the first time… Until then I was a swamp kid and so I never even went into town with my folks. I had not gone inside a business that had climate control and none of my friends had A/C either, because it was basically unheard of at the fish camp. Then one afternoon Pop comes home with a box a/c unit in the bed of his truck, that he said he had bartered for. It wasn’t for our house, though. The A/C was going to be put in the diner, which was the largest business in the fish camp. Pop thought that the A/C would get more people into the diner, and the money would benefit all of us. The added bonus was that when the diner wasn’t too awfully busy, us boys could go inside now and again. We loved the brief little moments of A/C, which felt magical to me.