Much as a beltway around a large city often serves to starkly demarcate good neighborhoods from bad ones, in my little slice of the universe, I view rain as a similar divider. Said simpler, on a nice day anybody and everybody can walk outside. But throw in some ominous clouds and a sprinkle or two, and only the havenots are out and about.

You guessed it, today was rainy. The normal population of the Wednesday library group is around 20 children and their grown-ups. When it started today there were seven; two more trickled in before the program finished. In all fairness, the walk to the library wasn’t that bad, just a light drizzle. However, it was coming down nice and steady by the time Alexei and I left the library at noon. He was pretty happy inside his plastic bubble. All the water and cars zooming by must have been pretty interesting (especially with snack in hand).

Before I faced rain as a dad with a stroller, I had the pleasure of experiencing it in several other situations. Not to be moronic or anything (of course I’ve “experienced” rain…I don’t live in a desert), but on the backdrop of my upbringing in suburbia, rain was usually something that could be avoided. Yes, there was the few seconds in between the car and home, but that doesn’t count in my book.

I graduated from the University of Maryland, College Park in 2007. It took me longer than most of my high-school peers to get through undergraduateville (in fact, a few of them already had doctorates by the time I gradumacated). Anyhow, way back when I entered UMD, parking was even more limited than what it is now. As a commuting freshman, my parking spot was not what you would call very good. After a 40+ minute drive to school in the morning, I had a brisk 20-minute walk to get to class. Under good conditions, I really enjoyed it. Walking in from Lot 4 to the main part of campus could be relaxing — to pass through cow country every morning was definitely one way to start the day. Coming back around to our topic: when it rained, it poured. Twenty minutes of slogging through a torrential sheet does wonders for your clothes. Sitting in said clothes for hours at a time does something else. There was some small condolence to be found in sharing varying degrees of soakedness with the others in class with me. By the time one class had finished, we’d all have dried out a little bit only to be soaked the moment we stepped outdoors to go to the next one. Walking on the sidewalk near streets was especially treacherous. I got pretty good at avoiding the splash zone (quite handy with a stroller). To close out my rambling thoughts on walking in the rain at UMD, I’d like to share a guilty pleasure. As a driver, I loved to splash pedestrians real good! Maybe I should have been more compassionate, as I was in their shoes more often then not. I wasn’t, though, and deliberately went out of my way to soak people whenever possible. Mua-ha-ha!

Sandwiched in between my eight years at UMD, I lived in Russia for a year. As part of the self-discovery bit, I wanted to get out into the world and fend for myself. Teaching English, I soon discovered, was probably the easiest way for me to make a living outside the US. The only question was where. Showing my great geographical prowess, I narrowed down my options by trying to find a really cold location, as cold weather and I get along well together. On a map, I found a small sliver of Russia, disconnected from the main landmass. I knew nobody there, and it shared a latitude with Alaska. Alaska is cold, so by association, Kaliningrad must be also.

Kaliningrad, the Seattle of Russia. Obviously, I slept through a bit of geography. Instead of perpetual snow, I found rain, rain, and more rain. In fact, there was probably a month or two when I didn’t see the sun once. As an economically strapped student teacher, I never had the luxury of driving during that year. Most of the time I took public transportation. Living in a rainy city, waiting at [uncovered] bus stops, and being long walks to/from said bus stops left a sopping Troy on more than one occasion.

As I think back on these repeated walks in the rain, I really don’t have any bad memories. In fact, a certain feeling of nostalgia more accurately captures my mood. I enjoy being dry as much as the next guy, but perhaps walking in the rain does a body good. If I had had a car or some other way to avoid the rain, I’m sure I would have. And yet I’m glad that I didn’t. For without the rain, and more specifically, me being in it, I wouldn’t have these memories.

Alexei is at the age now where he can stomp on puddles by himself. He’s not real good at it by grown-up standards, but he has a ball nonetheless. I was there to see his expression the first time he made a splash. I enjoy seeing him try to jump up and down (still hasn’t got the hang of that yet). And, I’m looking forward to him someday appreciating the inconvenient rain, like I do now.

Rain, rain, go away.
Come again ano….

I DON’T think so! Let’s go out and play!