Blog RSS FeedUtilitarian observations on rain in Los Angeles.
Hello! It’s been such a lengthy absence that I’m not even sure I know what to talk about anymore.
The obvious thing would be the rain.
The whole country makes fun of us Southern Californians for acting like crazies when it rains, but I have to defend us. First of all, we live in the desert. We spend a whole year forgetting what rain feels like. Then, when it happens, you kind of freak out a little. Even if you didn’t mean to. There’s the whole balancing an umbrella AND your purse AND your bags AND getting into and out of the car… that, my friends, takes practice. And we don’t get a lot of practice. So we just get soaked.
Then there are our roads, which aren’t really set up for rain, in that when it rains, the lanemarkers kind of disappear. And we have long stretches of road with no streetlamps, because there are always so many cars that it would just be redundant. So then you have all these lights shining on the non-existent lanemarkers, and what you end up with is half the population of Los Angeles taking a sick day. When we first moved out here, we marveled at the fact that no one goes to work when it rains.
I’m off work right now, anyway, but if I weren’t, I’d be calling and leaving fake cough voicemail messages for sure.
But all of that doesn’t change the fact that I kind of like the rain. I live up in the hills, on a street where everybody knows everybody. The only person none of us knows is the jerk who owns the undeveloped lot at the end of the street. He doesn’t take care of it, so every year, more of it falls down into the street, severely impeding drainage for half the street.
I get to put on my boots, my poncho, and my work gloves, and go shovel dirt. I like it. It feels sort of dramatic and very low-grade heroic to go tromping around the neighborhood, managing the flow of water, keeping nature in her place, etc.
I like the fact that we finally refined our “not down our stairs, you don’t” water repellant system. It used to be a bunch of boards held in place by pieces of stone statuary. But now we have it down pat–the key is to use 5-gallon buckets to brace a piece of sturdy plastic garden edging. The harder it rains, the fuller the buckets get, and then when it’s all over, we don’t have to carry 50-pound statue pieces to the back wall of the garage.
I like helping our neighbors, who have bad backs and bad knees and hefty work schedules, keep their houses safe from rainwater. It makes me feel closer to the community.
I like shoveling and getting wet and getting that secret kind of exercise that doesn’t involve paying $15 per class or the Wii balance board.
I like drying Winston’s little paws and his belly after he goes outside. I like watching him take a flying leap over the trench of running water at the edge of the curb. (The wet dog smell I could live without, but…)
I like hearing the rain outside, starting and stopping all night, and knowing we’re safe and warm inside.
I’m trying hard right now to get the house back in order after 3 months of negligence (multi-tasking and I, we don’t always make things work). I turn on an audiobook and work for hours.
It makes me feel very earthy and useful and connected–all of the things that life in LA doesn’t normally afford you. Oh, it’s always there, the potential to feel that way. But it’s easier to understand it when the rain comes and washes away the distractions.
10 comments January 20th, 2010
I’m sitting at the dining room table. I was up at 6 a.m., because my body seems to like waking up early these days. I could toss and turn in bed for an extra half hour, but what’s the point?
I think I’ve mentioned in the past how much I hate pretension, as an attitude and cultural force. 
