Thanks in advance for your feigning of interest.
If one positive thing has come out of the past week and its torrential downpours, flooding and general mayhem, it?s been this one: everybody?s had a chance to trot out his favorite rain joke.
Sorry, but ... I mean, did we move to Seattle during the night? Is Starbucks opening up on the corner? Where did all this rain come from?
Hey guys, I'm going out to find something to eat — should I take the ark and start collecting two of every animal?
Does anybody want to come with me tonight to the football game? No? Then how about the swim meet at halftime?
And on and on (and on) it goes. You couldn't pinpoint your favorite "it's really wet outside" joke even if you tried; furthermore, the longer it rains, the lines become more popular, not less.
Obviously, the weather of late has been frustrating for everybody, from football fans (who endured seemingly unending weather delays Friday and Saturday) to event organizers (had to plan their concerts and shows around the pending weather) to emergency personnel (who've had to stand by in case of disaster). It's a difficult proposition, waiting out the raindrops.
And yet, there's a part of me that simply refuses to complain a great deal about rainfall. Maybe it's because I'm descended from south Alabama farmers, and learned very early on the value of the rain to our livelihood.
Maybe it's because I remember barely two years ago, when the entire state suffered through a debilitating drought. I'm pretty sure I vowed at that point never to complain about rain ever again. I'm attempting to stick to that.
It could be my football background. I recall spending several grueling hours per day in high school out in the oppressive heat and humidity, attempting to remain upright and functional in temperatures reaching well over 100 degrees.
In the heavy, moist air, a thunderstorm seemed inevitable. And when it finally came, we'd cheer like we'd just won something (playing football in the mud is, after all, among the most fun things to do on the planet).
True story: once during a punishing round of drills, a thunderstorm swept upon our practice field out of somewhere deep in oblivion. At first, we were ordered to ignore it and keep punishing ourselves — until a terrifying lightning strike sent everyone scurrying back towards the dressing room without even time for further deliberation. I like to think God rescued us that day.
Here's hoping He rescues everyone who's suffered because of this most recent rain. And here's to all those rainfall jokes, because they're not going anywhere, either.
Man in Heaven: Why didn?t you come and save me, God? I said I had faith You would come.
God: I sent two rowboats and a helicopter! What'd you want?