I like rainy days.
Today is one of those exceptionally great rainy days when the rain lets
loose and pours straight down; no wind-driven spikes of water coming sideways,
just a plain old dumping of water straight from the sky.
The construction that is going on at work is strangely
compelling as it turns into a giant mud bog.
I used to drive an SUV with a lift kit in it, an old Chevy Blazer with
big-ass tires on it. It is a day like
this that makes me miss the old Blazer in the worst way. I start fantasizing about putting a lift kit
into my Dodge Caliber on days like this so I can haul it through a decent mud
puddle the size of a small pond.
For anyone who thinks that taking a lifted truck through a
decent mud bog is a Redneck sport, let me assure you, it's not. Well, it may well be, but it's not just a Redneck sport. It's actually a bit like childhood coming
alive. Remember making mud pies? It's like that, only bigger and better. Remember playing with trucks at the beach and
building roads and race courses into the sloppy surf-soaked sand? It's like that, only for real. Remember playing with your food, dragging
your fork through the mashed potatoes and making the gravy run all over the
plate in little rivulets? Yeah, just
like that, only the truck is the fork, and you're driving right through the
potatoes full-tilt.
I'm the distracted one today. I'm the one who keeps staring out the
windows, longing to be outside, knee-deep in mud, roaring through the slobbery
trenches and spraying brown muck on anything beside and behind me.
It's a rainy day like today that the workers on the
construction crew, especially those driving the smaller equipment, truly don't
realize how lucky they are. They get to
play in the mud all day long and get paid to do it. Lucky bastards.
The rain is predicted to get heavier throughout the night,
dropping maybe three inches of the stuff by mid-morning. Right now it is pouring buckets straight down
like faucets. I know because I looked
out the window and I opened the door, as if seeing isn't enough for
believing. There's a cement patio
outside, and the water pools furiously then rushes away.
I miss the mud. I
miss the look of it and the smell of it.
On a day like today, I'm sure some of those workers must be wishing they
were inside as they tool around in the spontaneous bogs that are their
site. I wish I were outside with them.
I guess that makes our thinking a little muddy.
At least something gets to play in the mud today.
