A delightfully hellacious thunderstorm and downpour occurred tonight in the Bay Area, and I was helpless to escape its fury. I'd chosen to drive to Berkeley first thing this morning to commute with a friend in his car to a conference down on Google's campus.
I left my car parked on his street.
Halfway down the peninsula, he found out he would have to be returning early. So I joined a group of participants driving back north tonight by bus.
Another friend offered to drive me from where the bus left us off to where I had parked.
All good so far.
As she dropped me off and drove away, I noticed something awry. The driver's side door had not closed properly. A flaw in my car's design is that the seat belt sometimes gets caught in the door when you close it.
This had happened this morning, obviously, though I hadn't noticed it at the time.
The consequence was a dead battery.
As I stood in the rain and the dark, I cursed myself for such a foolish mistake. But I also couldn't help but appreciate the moment.
A massive rainstorm, quite rare for this area, had moved in, soaking me to the skin in the few moments that I stood under a nearby tree, dialing my roadside assistance emergency number.
Once that was done, and my long wait had begun, I dialed my two younger sons and chatted with them. We were all excited by the weather.
After what seemed an interminable wait, the truck showed up and I was soon on my way. Driving across the Bay Bridge was like no previous adventure there any of the past 41 years I've been traversing it.
Lightning bolts and thunderous echoes plus high winds and standing water so deep it felt like a shallow river made this familiar passage strangely wonderful.
When I finally got home, there was a parking place a few steps from my front door!
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