by Kristy Smith
After many summer days without rain, I found myself having mixed feelings regarding the drought. Hailing from an agricultural family, I understood the implications of an overly dry growing season. But speaking as someone who, out of necessity, had to start mowing lawn three weeks earlier this year than last, I was happy to get to lay off for a few days and leave the old John Deere basic riding mower out in the barn. That may have been the only break I’ll get over this summer break – or what used to be summer break for me growing up.
As an adult, I’ve learned to save up my vacation days (aka “paid time off”) for not-so-exciting adventures, such as attending continuing education trainings to maintain professional licensure, surgeries and recovery from them, veterinary appointments for the dog or cat, the funerals of friends, times when the car is in the shop for repairs or the roads are too icy to traverse, and helping out friends or family members caught in a bind.
Talk about fun, exciting and exotic, and made even more so when the rain finally cuts loose in all its wrathful beauty. You find yourself hauling out a protective raincoat, which in addition to keeping you dry, retains 110% of your body heat, plus all the summer humidity. By the time you get to work, your outfit under the raincoat is sweat-saturated instead of simply water-splattered. Can I get a collective “Yuck?!”
Despite my love-hate relationship with my raincoat, when this summer hit its driest point (which I’m going to assume and pray it already has), I was wishing I knew someone who could, through rain-dancing, successfully coax some sky water to fall down. When that didn’t work, I went back to the drawing board and decided that maybe I was coming at the problem the wrong way: perhaps I should use an alternative art form and maybe serenade the rain into existence. I went online and Googled several songs that have “Rain” in the title with the intention of creating a singalong playlist.
On the rock side of things, a favorite is “Who’ll Stop the Rain” (1970) by Creedence Clearwater Revival: “Long as I remember, the rain been comin’ down. Clouds of mystery pourin’ confusion on the ground. Good men through the ages tryin’ to find the sun. And I wonder, still I wonder, who’ll stop the rain?”
As an adult, I’ve learned to save up my vacation days (aka “paid time off”) for not-so-exciting adventures, such as attending continuing education trainings to maintain professional licensure, surgeries and recovery from them, veterinary appointments for the dog or cat, the funerals of friends, times when the car is in the shop for repairs or the roads are too icy to traverse, and helping out friends or family members caught in a bind.
Talk about fun, exciting and exotic, and made even more so when the rain finally cuts loose in all its wrathful beauty. You find yourself hauling out a protective raincoat, which in addition to keeping you dry, retains 110% of your body heat, plus all the summer humidity. By the time you get to work, your outfit under the raincoat is sweat-saturated instead of simply water-splattered. Can I get a collective “Yuck?!”
Despite my love-hate relationship with my raincoat, when this summer hit its driest point (which I’m going to assume and pray it already has), I was wishing I knew someone who could, through rain-dancing, successfully coax some sky water to fall down. When that didn’t work, I went back to the drawing board and decided that maybe I was coming at the problem the wrong way: perhaps I should use an alternative art form and maybe serenade the rain into existence. I went online and Googled several songs that have “Rain” in the title with the intention of creating a singalong playlist.
On the rock side of things, a favorite is “Who’ll Stop the Rain” (1970) by Creedence Clearwater Revival: “Long as I remember, the rain been comin’ down. Clouds of mystery pourin’ confusion on the ground. Good men through the ages tryin’ to find the sun. And I wonder, still I wonder, who’ll stop the rain?”
(Although I want it started)
Country singer Eddie Rabbitt’s “I Love a Rainy Night”, was number one on the charts in 1980, to represent that division: “I love a rainy night. I love a rainy night. I love to hear the thunder, watch the lightning when it lights up the sky. You know it makes me feel good. Well, I love a rainy night. It’s such a beautiful sight. I love to feel the rain on my face, taste the rain on my lips, in the moonlight shadow.”
That at least sounds inviting to the rain. Too bad it ended up mentioning lips and moonlight shadow, which bleeds over into romanticizing rain. I personally find nothing romantic about being pelted with bone-piercing droplets of water or being at work when predicted delicate showers get upgraded to a full-bore downpours and you realize you’ve left windows open on the side of your nome most likely to be penetrated.
But relatable? Yes. Think I’ll let Luke Bryan bat cleanup against the raindrops with the lyrics to his 2009 song, “Rain is a Good Thing,” that goes like this: “My daddy spent his life lookin’ up at the sky. He’d cuss, kick the dust, sayin’, ‘Son, it’s way too dry.’ It clouds up in the city, the weather man complains. But where I come from, rain is a good thing.”
More fun is Bryant’s string of logic that follows, “Rain makes corn, corn makes whiskey. Whiskey makes my baby feel a little frisky. Back roads are boggin’ up, my buddies pile up in my truck. We hunt our hunnies down, we take ‘em into town. Start washin’ all our worries down the drain. Rain is a good thing.”
I agree. Regardless of how you sing it, rain is a good thing!
Kristy Smith’s Different Drum humor columns are archived on her blog: diffdrum.wordpress.com.
