Rain Dance

Amid all the talk of super-powers (last night, for example, Tyler and I argued over the right to claim super-sleeping powers--the ability to sleep anywhere, anytime, in any position), I was forcibly reminded of one of my greatest supernatural abilities-- the power to control the weather. Not in all situations, mind you, nor in very many. In fact, my ability to control the weather extends only to one facet of the atmosphere: I can make it rain.

Now this will not come as a surprise to those of you who are familiar with my Native-American heritage (1/32 Blackfoot baby!!). For many moons have my people summoned Brother Rain to their side, bringing with him life-giving water, allowing us to track the wild buffalo and scalp the white man (for proof, see Bryant "The Last Mohawkian" Casteel's latest hairstyle). Back when the prairie sage-grass still waved like um... waves... across the I-15 corridor, my people needed only to importune Tess, the rain god, with the Rain Dance. I would descibe the details to you, but our medicine man forbids it. He says too much rain would be disasterous for our people, meaning that not as many of the white-haired grandmothers would be able to make it to the casino. Perhaps one day they will teach it in 2nd grade rather than square dancing. For now, however, the Rain Dance remains a family recipe.

Sadly, the great buffalo herds have now moved on, and many of the old ways have been forgotten. And yet there remains some of the ancient magic pulsing in my veins. I can still make it rain. No longer must I dance as we once did, nor must my war-whoop raise high towards the stars. All I need to do is wash my car. No joke. I can't remember the last time that I washed my car that it did not rain within 48 hours. A year ago, I personally held the state of Utah in an extended drought becuase I was even too lazy to take my car to the Sonic Car-Wash. I'm not proud of it, but it's true.

Take today, for example. It started out as a normal summer day, 90+ degrees and not a cloud in the sky. No sooner did I take my car to a Self-Wash than the clouds began to roll in like an Indian raiding party. The only thing preventing a flash flood was that I parked underground so as to avoid the inevitable downpour. So for those of you who were looking forward to a nice clear evening for "star-gazing", as I know most of y'all were, sorry about the weather--my car needed the wash and we need Brother Rain to pay a visit.

Back to my fire-water.