Cry me a river

It's raining again in Southern California.

By the way, while searching for an appropriate image, I came upon hundreds of choices. I decided to opt for this one using the same logic I have heard for more than 30 years in the ad business. It shows a human hand. Therefore, ipso facto, it has more humanity. 

Or so I've gathered from countless feedback sessions with the planners, strategists, content strategists, UX designers, code writers, account coordinators, account executives, account supervisors, Group Account Supervisors, Group Account Directors and client wives/husbands.

Why, you may ask, is a little rain even newsworthy? 

Well, apparently it's not just a little rain. To date and according to the official season total, we here in perpetually sunny and warm Southern California have accumulated 23.79 inches of precipitation. This has got local newsman Dallas Raines so pumped up he had to down a handful of Amiodarone, just to get his heart rate back into the double digits.

Personally, I don't think 23.79 inches of rain is such a big deal. Hell, when I was in Syracuse, we had 23.79 inches of snow in the course one monster blizzard in the winter of '78. Should there be any confusion, that's 1978.

But don't try to tell that to the native born residents of the Golden State, many of whom are crying, "Enough."

No, it's not enough.

Best I can tell, we are still in a drought. And, this is just through casual observation -- me looking out the front window -- my water-abusing neighbor is still washing each of his 5 motor vehicles at least once a week. Sometimes two, if the local crows have been suffering indigestion.

Lastly, we are closing in on the tail end of the "wet season." Meaning, it won't rain here for another 6-7 months. I get a nagging dry, itchy feeling when no moisture falls from above. It's not pleasant.

Way back in 1984, my father, my brother and I went backpacking in the Grand Tetons. This runs contrary to the widely accepted maxim that "Jews don't camp." 

But it's in even starker contrast to the lesser known, but more truthful corollary, "Jews don't go backpacking and spend 7 days in the mountains without a real bed or a real shower."

I don't know if I can do justice to the pungent aroma emitted by three swarthy men of Hebraic Seasonings after 31 miles of high altitude trekking while carrying 75 lbs. packs and eating nothing but US Army-rejected powdered food and 7-11 Slim Jims. 

Or maybe, as Ms. Muse might assert, it's just my Piscean nature, but I love the rain. 

Let that Pacific Atmospheric River flow. And make Dallas Raines harder than a Corundum Drill Bit.