A lone acorn dropped onto Dr. Dick’s hairless pate. (Dr. Dick, the garden doc, thinks he knows much, but knows little.) It was January, he was in the Memorial Garden and he was dressed in shorts and a tee shirt (it was 55 degrees out, but Dr. Dick maintained that shorts and tee shirt is always the proper attire for a Florida day.) Feeling a sharp pain on his head and knowing that it had come from above, he panicked.
“The sky is falling, the sky is falling”, he shouted. Diane (his wife, and the landscape chair), and Katherine, our custodian, heard his panicked cry and came running.
“Calm down Chicken Little – what’s the problem?” said Diane.
Dr. Dick’s voice was still anxious. “I just had an object hit me in the head and it came from the sky. The sky is falling!”
“That was an acorn and the sky isn’t falling,” said Diane resignedly.
“Well, I have never been hit in the head before like this,” said Dr. Dick.
Diane decided to let that one go and gave him a scientific explanation. “You are right,” she said, “normally the Memorial Garden oaks have produced very few acorns, but this year we are flooded with them. Apparently, the cold winter last year combined with the hot summer stressed the trees and they produced voluminous amounts of acorns.”
“I see,” said Dr. Dick, “but the Memorial Garden now is full of acorns – I’m sure that as head landscaper you have a budget to take care of this disaster.” There was silence from Diane. “You do, don’t you?” a degree of panic slipping into his voice. More silence from Diane. “You want me to pick them up don’t you?” Diane nodded. “But what if I get hit in the head again? I may end up with a different personality”.
“That would be nice.” said Diane.