I am a world-class sneezer. Sneezing is just like anything else: If you get enough reps, you’ll become good at it. My sneezes pack a punch. I think if I tried to hold one in, my eyeballs would bug out.
If you’ve ever seen a potato gun — you jam a spud into a PVC pipe and then light a shot of hairspray in the cylinder to force it out — that’s what my sneezes feel like. I think if I put a potato in my mouth before a big sneeze, it would land in Kentucky.
May is my sneeze-fest month. Since I was a little boy, the tree pollen in May has attacked my sinuses, triggering an allergic reaction that is as much a harbinger of May as the Kentucky Derby. Then, in the fall, ragweed arrives and I start to sneeze in circles like an oscillating lawn sprinkler.
(READ MORE: Allergy season arrives early in Chattanooga.)
My allergies used to be so bothersome that they hurt my feelings. But I’ve found the best defense to be indifference. I’m confident I won’t die of hay fever, so I try not to let my lifelong nemesis get the best of me. If I could only hold my breath until October, all would be cool.