I'm walking outside and it begins to rain. It's a light warm rain mixed with a pleasant breeze and I find it very nice. I slow down and let the warm rain get in my hair and sprinkle my face, reveling in the wonder that is rain. What a great idea our Creator had, a self-sustaining system that keeps the planet hydrated and makes me happy.
It's all going well until Captain America shows up with his stupid umbrella. "Did ya ferget yer umbrella?" Captain America says, as he frantically runs toward me, affecting my calm.
His face shows terror and urgency, as if the rain portended a cataclysm, and he is running directly into me, he crashes into my precious personal space with his hysterical fear. (Trust me, you'd rather enter Iran with a sign that says, 'I hate Muslims' than enter Adamtopia without a pass.)
"No," I calmly explain, "I don't keep one and it's only barely raining so..."
Captain America closes in on me, "Here, git under mine, we can both fit."
Now, this is what I wanted to do. I wanted to huddle under a small umbrella with another man who awkwardly tries to match my pace. A child could see that he is actually spilling water on me, but he can only see his own glory: the brilliant lateral thinker who decided we could share an umbrella. My peaceful constitutional is no more.
Little girls and hypothermia patients need umbrellas when it sprinkles. Oh, and big sissies. Of course, I once noticed it was hailing and decided to take off my shirt and wander around my college campus. I thought it was invigorating but I was viewed with suspicion. Maybe I am a little different on this issue.
(Picture from the International Center for Photography)