Friday, October 19, 2007
Slip Sliding Away
image by Ervín Pospíšil - GNU F.D.L.
Sometimes, very rarely, it rains here in Southern California, and the effects are usually disastrous.
Nearly every day our LA Times comes in a plastic wrapper. I used to wonder why, since it never rains. I kept meaning to call them to tell them I didn't need the plastic wrapper, but they would throw me off by leaving off the plastic wrapper every now and then. (I also realized at some point that the papers came in wrappers so they weren't soaked by 6 a.m. lawn sprinklers.) In the last couple days, with the early morning drizzles and sprinkles, when I've picked up the paper, the wrapper has been wet. The wet newspaper wrapper was a strange feeling -- unusual for me here in L.A. -- it took me back to days of fetching the Hartford Courant from the bottom of my parents' driveway so I could read Doonesbury. We lived at the top of the hill, and everything was always wet in the morning. And it rained a lot.
Also, on a prematurely dark April afternoon in fourth grade, in response to my teacher's question about the weather outside, I said it was "precipitating" and the entire class and my teacher laughed at me for like two minutes. That was also the year that my teacher confiscated my Casio watch because I couldn't figure out how to disable the hourly two-beep chime. She never gave it back.