Umbrella Madness

Rain today. With anything more than a drizzle, umbrella madness sets in. New Yorkers, never willing to slow down, begin an intricate dance of aggressive maneuvers.

Entering and exiting subway stations requires an unspoken agreement for those entering to raise their umbrellas just a bit higher than those exiting. This allows for fairly safe passage. Though the trick is knowing when it's safe to raise the umbrella - before getting wet, or once the mob has thinned a bit.

Heading through mid-town, the trick is avoiding the runoff from an opposing umbrellaer. And angling to and fro lest a wandering spoke be lunged imprecisely. On most ocassions the dancers stay in step. After all, this is well rehearsed.

Pity the person who left Brooklyn before it started to rain, unless he happens upon a corner where the umbrella entrepeneurs lie in wait. "Umbrellas - five dolla, five dolla." Where do they come from? While visiting the Parthenon last month I learned it is an international network. The rain started as soon as we approached the base of the hill. "Umbrellas - five euro, five euro." Though the trepidation here was more about maintaining one's footing on the marble steps than any damage an umbrella could do.

The wind tunnels in lower Manhattan are sure to turn your umbrella on you. It's a two-handed job down there. One to hold the frame in place, the other to guide the handle. I've never been on the open sea during a storm but I'm guessing the financial district is somewhat comparable. Every corner has warnings of the consequences of letting down your guard. Wastebins become impromtu umbrella mortuaries.

Not to worry. Just make sure you always carry five dolla.