September 30, 2004

GeneralA single, impulsive act

Philadelphia got hit with a terrific rainstorm a night ago. I haven't seen a rainstorm of such magnitude and destruction for a while - the only thing to come close was the remnants of the hurricane last year about this time. I-76 was closed for quite some time because it was under a foot of water in spots, and because of multiple accidents. I, thankfully, being stuck at Villanova, heard about this all as the night went on and did not have to experience this first hand.

Heavy rains had always intrigued me, and I had come up with a single philosophy to cover them. It's quite simple really. Just a manageable realization made in the morning: "I will not be completely dry today, and that is okay." I can then shrug off my umbrella (which, when I almost without fail ALWAYS lose somewhere along the path of the day) and throw on my hoodie and walk stridently through the rain. I mean, logically, think about it: why try and fight against the forces of nature with a thin piece of plastic on a stick? The human body is already made up of over 80% water, so it's not going to hurt a person in the long run. It's pointless to create more stress over something that one has no control over whatsoever.

All of this led yesterday to an act that I've wanted to engage in for quite some time. After class was over, a bunch of us walked over to the Connelly Center to grab a bite to eat before our respective rehearsals (Art, and The Visit.) Problem was, the usual entrance to the Connelly Center was blocked by a large puddle resulting from a blocked drain.

By puddle, I mean small pond. This puddle was a square of about ten feet by ten feet, with about 5 inches of water at the deepest point in the center.

Now, my classmates formed a wall as they came to the edge of the puddle unsure of whether to cross or not. There was another entrance further up a set of steps. Being outside meant being wet for a few more minutes whilst trekking up the stairs.

I looked at the puddle, looked at my friends, and remembered my philosophy. I strode, clearly hearing a different drummer, into the puddle. And began to jump and skip through the puddle.

It was fantastic. I was soaking wet from the waist down. (I was wearing the traditional DeMizio class uniform of a polo shirt and khakis.)

It was a single, impulsive act based on a philosophy that seems to make sense only to me. But it was a wonderful feeling jumping and splashing around to get to the doors. I felt like I was five again, running through the sprinkler in the front yard. I knew now what Gene Kelly was hinting at during the song "Singin' in the Rain" from the musical of the same name.

The downside was my pants were drenched. They're still drenched tonight, over 24 hours later.

The upside was an affirmation of my philosophy and a few moments of positive irrationality, which is never a bad thing.

To end with, a quote from "Art:"

."...nothing formative in this world, nothing great or beautiful in this world has ever been born of rational argument."

[Listening to: "The Only Living Boy In New York", by Simon And Garfunkel from the album "Garden State"]

Posted by Matthew at September 30, 2004 01:45 AM
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