It’s raining cats and dogs in Pasadena, California, home of the Rose Parade. I drove past PCC earlier today (when it was just sprinkling), and some poor marching band was outside practicing in full regalia.
Now, it’s pouring, that heavy kind of rain that saps your will to do anything other than curl up on the couch with a good book and a hot toddy. It’s a good thing the Rose Parade isn’t tomorrow, or it might be the wettest parade ever. (I notice that they’re forecasting “heavy rains” for Monday; for the sake of the marching bands and the pretty floats, I hope the rain holds off.)
I can testify that it isn’t champagne out there. After going out to run errands (what goes in a hot toddy anyway?), I was sopping wet from knees to ankles. Heard on the radio that they’re urging evacuations in certain parts of Northern California as the rivers rise. They do say that the four seasons in California are fire, flood, earthquake and drought.
Do they do the Rose Parade when it rains? It’s got to be the most pathetic sight around.
It’s been so long since it rained on New Year’s Day that I don’t remember. The thing I do remember is that it rained hard once in the 50’s, the cars parked on the golf course next to the Rose Bowl ruined it for months and Ohio State coach Woody Hayes tried to stop the bands from marching at half time. He claimed that all those band members tromping around would ruin the field for the second half.
Late news flash. The year was 1955 and the parade went on despite the rain. As it will this year. From the cite
Having camped out on the Rose Parade route once in the past, I feel very sorry for the people who may wake up to wet sleeping bags. They’ve been predicting heavy rain for Monday since very early in the week, so I wonder how attendence will be affected.
Jakeline and I were also debating about how the floats themselves would be affected. Will heavy rain ruin the floats to any degree? If so, I feel worst for those who have poured so much energy into building and beautifying these moving pieces of art.
Apparently they do. I wandered up the street to catch the last 20 minutes of the parade, and I’m forced to revise my opinion of native Southern Californians; despite all their pissing and moaning about the climate (or “weather” as they call it, as they lack the understanding that weather doesn’t begin until with winds reach Beaufort 7 or hard things start falling out of the sky) there was a fair middlin’ crowd on the street making the usual mess of trash, and while the floats were a little more staggered that proper parade formation they all pulled in and through, with bands a blaring, pipers piping, and all that stuff.
I have to say, though, that Californians just don’t understand how to prepare for inclement weather; the streets were littered with pathetic little aluminum spiders, each stripped of its protective integrument and abandoned to the City of Pasadena Public Works. An umbrella is no match for wind and rain and ain’t gonna keep you dry for any distance beyond the cab to the apartment door. On the other hand, I strolled down the street in my Mountain Hardware raingear and Vasque Sundowners dry as Betty Ford, except the back of my neck. (I had to be cool and wear a hat instead of unrolling the hood. :rolleyes:) There were also a lot of schlubs watching the parade warm and dry in various establishments–I guess the unexceptional fare at The Melting Pot was offset by the promise of staying warm–but heck, if you’re going to do that you should just stay home and watch it on the televisor.
Old Town sure cleared out after the parade, though–even more than usual. Barney’s actually shut down at noon 'cause there were no customers, and even the Cheesecake Factory lacked its usual complement of acoylates huddled in the doorway. I can’t say I care about the game one way or another, but I’ll be glad when they have they break down all the damn stands and I can go back to my usual running path along Orange Grove.
Sorry about the rain, Campion, but I find this to be fine Irish weather and I wish we’d get more of it; I actually got a fair night of sleep with the window open and the rain pattering comfortingly on the driveway outside. Anyway, here’s a recipe for hot toddy, though not the one I use; I prefer to use honey (and less of it) rather than sugar syrup, and I’ll generally prefer Jameson over bourbon, but that’ll get you in the ballpark.
Yay! (Now, nobody tell him those were all tourists!)
There’s nothing better to hear at night than the patter of rain on the roof, once you know that the new roof is holding and the patter you hear isn’t the sound of leaks.
Nah…I always had to shovel snow after a snowstorm, child labor laws not being in effect then. But a nice rainstorm–preferably with a little lightning–makes everything new and shiny. Someday a real rain will come and wash all this scum off the streets. You talkin’ to me? You talkin’ to me? Then who the hell else are you talkin’ to? You talkin’ to me? Well, I’m the only one here.
I’m sure glad I live in California. I was a projectionist in a theater before WWII. The theater was on an east-west street and I parked my car around the corner on a north-south one.
The second show was done by about midnight and by the time I got away is was nigh on 1:00 AM.
On a February day when the temperature was down around zero and you turned the corner into that 20 mph wind from the north it was excruciating.
