Billed as the ultimate Beatles tribute band, RAIN is in the midst of a road tour that will end on Broadway in mid-October; last week’s stop was Oklahoma City and my husband and I were lucky enough to catch last night’s final OKC performance.
I hate to gush too much, but RAIN was one of those experiences I won’t soon forget. When the end arrived, I wasn’t ready for it. I wanted these “Fab Four” impersonators to keep on playing all those songs I grew up with, with music that effortlessly transported me back to the sixties.
Sitting in that audience — and sometimes standing on my feet dancing to these old familiar tunes — I marveled at my luck at being alive when the Beatles were actually writing and singing their songs themselves. Did anyone realize how gifted this band from Liverpool really was in real-time? Or were most like me, realizing the miracle of their music long after the Beatles were no longer together?
For me, the Beatles were simply part of everyday life. I followed their lives in my Tiger Beat and 16 magazines; I collected their music, and like most teens, I faithfully watched the Beatles cartoon show every Saturday morning.
I went to bed thinking of RAIN and woke this morning to the real deal. Rain. Driving. Torrential. Flash-flooding. The street outside our Mesta Park home was a river.
Unfortunately, my son parked his girlfriend Amy’s car in the street. By the time we realized the street was flooded, the car already was. And though he tried to get it started, it would not.
Sometimes we can’t take in what’s happening in real-time. We need perspective. Time. Distance. And sometimes, like this morning outside my window, we still can’t take in the reality of this thing called rain.
an everyday life 
Oh, I’m so sorry. I’d heard vaguely about rain in OKC, but didn’t realize until today that it was a record-setter. And that water can come up so fast – thank goodness no one was hurt or swept away (at least in your family – there may have been deaths I haven’t heard about yet).
Speaking of not hearing about things, I’d not heard of the group called Rain, either. Like you, I grew up listening to the Beatles – and remember that appearance on the Ed Sullivan show.
Here’s a funny bit of current Beatles’ trivia for you. It seems there were “cookie cutter” disaster plans and environmental impact statements for various places BP has been drilling. The impact statement for the Deepwater Horizon area included a reference to the “walruses and sea lions” that could be harmed in case of a major spill. 🙂
Since that word hit the street, there have been postings all over the place of that truly weird number, “I am the Walrus”. The only thing funnier is the video of the of the yellow Oceaneering ROVs doing its work, to the tune of “Yellow Submarine”!
I hope your rain is gone, and they got the car dried out.
I know how much the BP disaster is at the forefront of your mind right now. On the scale of 1-10, “it” rates a “10” and my minor inconvenience a “1” — if that.
But still I’m reeling about the after-affects of the flooding in our basement. Who knew that sewage waters were spilling into my basement — for lack of a place to go — as I was writing Monday morning’s lament about Amy’s flooded car? Our sewer check-valve kept our flooding to a minimum; we had 5 inches where the duplex next door hosted four feet.
It would be so easy to write a second verse to the lament, had I the heart for it — the dealing with insurance agents, the remediation companies and the host of contractors I’m entertaining these days to check out expensive equipment that calls our basement home. With our furnace and a/c blower, my brand new washer and dryer and our hot water tank, the basement is “command central” for our home. With no hot water, and conditioned air that smells musty, I’m wondering about the long-term effects of the measely 4″ inconvenience of flood waters — when I should probably be wondering (and praying) about the major spills in the Gulf that threaten life in ways already witnessed — and in ways we can never now know.
Thanks for your note. I’ll have to go find the Yellow Submarine “YouTube” clip.
As T.S. Eliot said, “…Humankind cannot bear very much reality.” The truth of Eliot’s words is wide enough to cover all sorts of wasteful spills.
Janell
Oh, dear. DO be sure to get that all dried out and bleached within an inch of its ghastly life. Or whatever. If you have a remediation company, they’ll know what to do. You don’t want mildew down there, for anything.
When I was growing up in Iowa, we had a basement that flooded. They installed a sump pump which helped, but in the storage portion everything still lived on boards. Like you, we never got more than 4-5 inches, but that could do a lot of damage.
It’s kind of funny to drive around residential neighborhoods in our local flood plain now. After Ike, a lot of people decided they not only would meet new codes by installing their electrical service panels 30 ‘ up or whatever – they put the AC units up high, too. A lot of them are living on what looks like their own little balconies, with gingerbread and flower pots. It really is funny.
As for big spill vs little spill – at least you can do something about yours, despite the aggravation. I do hope you’re drying out.
Huge fans have been blowing air around our basement since the day after the flood.
Writing these words invited a memory of my young mother blowing air on my tiny wet fingernails, freshly painted pink like her’s. “Don’t touch them Janell. They’re still wet.” Though she’d warn me over and over, I always seemed to have at least one smudged nail. As I think about it, Mom’s “don’t touch” advice seems just as sound now, concerning that wet basement downstairs.
It’s sort of comical to think that I take time to put on a pair of high-water rubber boots (which now sit at the bottom of the basement stairwell) to canvas the basement floors, rummaging around for this and that, to keep everyday life going. There is, of course, no water down there — the water receded Monday afternoon — but I guess I’m hoping high-water gear will keep away the cooties!
Today we meet with an insurance adjuster. This is no slight miracle, as folks I know are still being ‘processed’ for the May 16th hail storm. I imagine our going ahead of the pack stems from some of the risks you alluded to — mold, etc. — as well as being one the few in our state “foolish” enough to carry FEMA flood insurance — another Gulf coast habit that I couldn’t shake.
The a/c unit at the beach cottage, where we always stay when we come south, sits high on a diving platform, just as you describe. It has no flower pots, but I believe a fake owl makes its nest beside it.
Thanks for your note. And for your kindness in making my spill-myopia not seem too selfish.
Janell
It was one bad rain wasn’t it? We didn’t get flood waters in our basement. For that I’m more grateful than I can say. I hope your place dries out soon, and I’m sorry about the contractors. They just don’t get it sometimes do they? Hang in there.~~Dee
Thanks Dee — we’re still in recovery. But I am looking forward to welcoming a new washer & dryer into our home tomorrow — too bad our last set was only seven weeks old.
Glad to hear you fared the storm without flooding.