It's Sunday afternoon and the AC is busted at the Switchyards in Adair Park. You know that adage about a frog in a pot of slowly heating water? It feels like that. I leave my seat at the Adair Park Switchyards and go sit on a shaded bench in Adair Park. Two young boys enter the park on bikes with their uncle. One boy falls. One boy laughs. The uncle makes demands. A time machine of sorts appears.