The anxiety welled up in my lungs as we drove across alligator alley, filling my chest cavity with nervous and increasingly toxic ionized air. My earlobes were sweating -- an entirely new and startling development -- and I fumbled with the car radio in a desperate attempt to find some unnatural force to distract me from my minor panic attack. In the end, the only station that came in clearly was broadcasting the elevator sounds of a pre-Gwyneth Paltrow Coldplay block that, unsurprisingly, did not do the job. I wondered aloud, "If I vomit on the side of the road, will the smell of it attract a gator?"
One of four missing boaters was found Monday clinging to an overturned fishing vessel off Florida's Gulf Coast, and the search for the other three, including two NFL players, has narrowed, the Coast Guard said.
Two NFL players are among four boaters missing since Saturday night off Florida's Gulf Coast, officials told CNN.
I'll admit it. Ever since watching Gilligan's Island, I've had a secret fantasy. (No, it has nothing to do with Tina Louise.) I've dreamed of being marooned on a tropical island--draped in palm fro...