Umbrella Blues


T.S. Eliot once wrote that "April is the cruelest month." Personally, I'm not so sure how much stock I'd put in that, seeing as that April marks the start of baseball season and the NCAA hoops championship game. Not all bad. Plus, with the exception of 2 crappy days as far I can recall...this past April wasn't bad at all.

Now we're into may. It's May 11th. The temp outside right now is 48 degrees, and the wind is blowing at 27 mph, gusting to 40. My British bloody Trader Joe would say "yeah, it's really fooking pissing down there"...translation being that it's raining really hard. And it's supposed to keep raining right through the weekend, meaning that my Sunday morning golf game might be in serious doubt.

Anyhow, rain means umbrellas. Unfortunately, umbrellas seem to be a pretty major source of consternation for me.

We've got (well, had) 3 umbrellas in the Ilk household. I have my big green golf one, the Better Half has her little black one with the cute duckie head for a handle, and then there's the $7.99 Walgreens special that sits in the basket by the door.

I like the big green golf umbrella. Unfortunately, the big green golf umbrella is in the trunk of the little green car in my golf bag. When you're dashing out the door running late, there's not any time to head to the basement garage, unlock the car and grab the umbrella and then run the keys back upstairs (we only have one set of keys, the other set is probably at the bottom of one of the Better Half's 73 purses). Plus, big golf umbrellas tend to get dirty looks from passersby on crowded wet sidewalks. Then there's the whole "where to put it in the office to dry it" issue.

So I got stuck with the Walgreen's special today. Flimsy plastic handle, flimsy metal rod. The damned thing didn't even go up all the way and I had to yank it up myself, slicing my finger in the process. But somehow, I made it to work.

Going home was a whole different story. The rain was falling a lot harder and the wind was whippin from the west. I have to walk west to get home. By the time I hit the bridge over the river, the umbrella had already inverted twice. The hot young thing in the pink slicker right in front of me ended up losing hers IN THE RIVER when a gust caught it.

I made it all the way to the old post office and then whammo! Just like that, the skinny little "metal" rod snapped right in two. So I gave it a proper burial...see picture above. Look closely and you'll see I wasn't alone.