A Story

I woke to the sound of the hairdryer. I was on the couch downstairs
again. The details of the previous night were fuzzy, but then they
always were. I got up and headed to the bathroom, thinking to find the
hairdryer. It wasn't there. I followed the sound to the front porch.
        It was raining and Danny was standing there blowing at the the rain
with the hairdryer.
        "Danny, you idiot, what are you doing?"
        "Look I know you're going to say this makes no sense but here you
go: I'm making sure it is going to keep on raining. Rain comes from
water vapor that goes into the clouds and becomes rain, right? Well then
where does it go? It goes in the dirt and floats around hanging with the
worms and stuff. Then after awhile it goes up to the air and heads for
the clouds. My guess is that part in the ground takes too long. If I
stand here and dry the rain some of it will get back to the clouds
sooner. Then we'll have more rain."
        "That makes no sense Danny."
        "At least I'm doing something."
        That was Danny's excuse for everything. He said it like no one else
in the world ever did anything. Maybe for Danny they didn't. Who can say
what is going on in there.
        I've got no complaint with Danny wanting it to rain more. Sunny days
hurt, they leave you all exposed. On sunny days some primieval urge
tries to tug you outside. It's horrible, better to stay in, on familiar
ground, where nothing can get to you.
        That's what Danny and I do. We stay in. I don't know how it got
started but its been this way for a long time.
        I think about taking a shower but then I'd need the hairdryer. What
if Danny's not done?

February, 1995