For: Floods and Rain

It has been raining nonstop all day. It brings to mind the time this past summer when my sister and I took a road trip to Fond du Lac during a storm – at her relentless insistence. During the trip there, lightning frequented the skies but the storm had for the most part abated. Upon arrival we found many streets flooded. I was wound tightly as we drove through a swimming pool of a street. The water was up to the bumper and I feared the engine would be drowned and we would be stranded in Fond du Lac or I would severely misjudge the depth and we would be swept away and some badly parented child excited by the storm would be running around video-taping everything and we would drift right past him and he would capture us on film and sell it to the news and my face would be seen by millions as I sat helplessly in my car, floating down the street, and I would join the ranks of all those people on TV who from their viewers evoke the response; “What a moron”.  But that did not happen.

My sister assured me that Lakeside Park was the cool place to go during storms or during their recent aftermath and so to Lakeside we went. We parked just off shore by the lighthouse and noticed a wavy line of seaweed and trash spanning the length of the parking lot, a sign of the abnormally high waves that had just crashed over the bulwark boulders between the park and the large lake. It is not a usual thing for the water of Lake Winnebago to thrash so violently as to cascade over the rocky shore. It was the summer Wisconsin version of our winter Duluth escapade in which a very agitated Lake Superior churned so dramatically. Forces of nature can be intriguing.

Speaking of my sister, I cashed a check that she sent me recently. I had lent her some money and she was paying me back. The memo on the check said, “For: Being my hero”, on which the banker commented. I told her that anyone who gives my sister money is her hero.

The reason this is funny to me is that I had previously thought that nobody ever read what was written in the memo. I didn’t think bankers would ever give it even a passive glance. It’s irrelevant information. So, under this assumption, when I was writing out a check to my sister-in-law, I put in the memo, “Drugs” which is immature, but I thought it was funny because Anna could never be suspected as a drug user. Maybe I’m easily entertained. Anyway, she hasn’t said anything about it so she may not have noticed or she may be wondering why that banker was eyeballing her so harshly that one time at the bank. I thought the worst thing that could happen is that she and the banker would have something to talk about. But maybe nobody noticed. Perhaps I will try “pornography” next time.