, , , , ,

I’m back in NY, wrecking at life per the use.  Springfield was averaging 102 degrees throughout my visit and maintaining the record drought.  New York, on the other hand, has been subject to humidity and on-again-off-again showers and thunderstorms.  I wanted to throw out a personal belief that really manifested in high school out of frustration and exasperation.

I don’t believe in umbrellas.  More specifically, I don’t believe in their usefulness.  I understand the concept and accept their physical being, but they really aren’t functional.  Let’s walk through the process of using an umbrella:

1.  It begins to rain.  You have hair and clothes on and don’t want to get wet.

2. You didn’t know it was going to rain.  Your umbrella is in your apartment/dorm/car/office which is at least a 10 minute walk or 30 minute train ride away.

3.  You either return to your apartment/dorm/car/office to retrieve your umbrella or buy an umbrella from someone on the street or from an I Love New York shop.  It is probably white with “I ❤ NY” printed all over it.

4.  You open said umbrella.  Normally, the lock catches or you pinch your finger.

5.  Spatially speaking, not everyone can carry an umbrella.  You are increasing your circumference dramatically, so the chances of bumping/stabbing/jostling the people around you also increases dramatically.

6.  While you are bumping/stabbing/jostling the people around you, you are also walking down the street (read:  wind tunnel).  Gusts of wind push through at varying intervals and with varying intensity.  Your umbrella inverts.


7.  You get a face full of water from the umbrella in front of you that similarly inverted.

8.  You manage to get the umbrella back to its approximate original form and are now walking down the street/wind tunnel with the umbrella directly ahead of you, so you can’t see anything.  Choose your own adventure:  walk into a busy street, get run over by a taxi, knock down a child, trample a small dog, or fall down the steps of a train stop.

9.  You arrive at your destination having wasted 10-30+ minutes retrieving the now broken umbrella and soaked nevertheless.  You may also not have arrived to your destination if a combination of the above adventures befell you.

So suck it up and get a little wet and look like this:

Sans umbrella, we live like the Nicholas Sparks’ novels/movies:

Continued reasoning why I don’t believe in umbrellas:


In conclusion, here is a video of a slow loris with an umbrella.