It snowed yesterday. Quite a bit. All day long. I don't know how many inches, but it was a lot. This is me out in the snow.
Note two things in the picture above. 1) The UGGS. 2) The Umbrella. The UGGS turned up useless by the end of the day because surprisingly and unfortunately, UGGS are not waterproof. My socks spent the latter half of the day drying over the heater in our living room. The Umbrella however (yes, with a capital "U,") was my hero.
Umbrella walking in New York City is not an easy task. It is not a task like crossing the street, which becomes more instinctual with time. Umbrella walking simply sucks. Each time. Every time. It is not fun. It is painful. And it is unfair. All this because people don't give a rat's boohiney about how their umbrellas invade your space, or poke your eye out, or scrape your head, or catch and pull your hair. It's each man for himself. Stay dry no matter the cost.
I have often wondered, why am I the one who always moves my umbrella out of the way for YOU. Why am I always the one who sees the man or woman about to pass me and lifts my umbrella higher than the oncoming traveler's so that the two umbrellas do not interlock and mangle themselves to pieces. Why do I have to get extra wet because I'm avoiding a gazillion little pokey things that could have a detrimental effect on my face.
And fancied friends, I have come up with a solution to my quandary, and the answer lies in that picture you see at the beginning of this post.
See how that Umbrella is very LARGE?
Hmmmm? See it?
That's the solution! That's the answer! You see, before yesterday I was walking around with a rinky dink umbrella that flipped inside out with every gust of wind. It was a mere child's thing! Useless. Weak. UNmenacing. Shrinking back from every bully umbrella that came its way. A disgrace to the umbrella race it was. A disgrace to the umbrella race.
But NOW. I've upgraded. Yesterday I was walking along and all of the sudden a man next to me said, "Woah!" and had to do a Neo (you know, like one of those slow motioned back bends) to avoid my Umbrella. As I walked the block I noticed those around me swerve and duck and dive and maneuver, while I peacefully walked along on the ever so beautiful white winter day.
I returned home with wet feet and both eyes.
My Umbrella. My hero.