This year has been terrible so far. Aside from work being something of a void that not merely gazes back, but glares with malice and madness, the celebrity deaths have been brutal. Neil Peart, Buck Henry, and Bill (if you’ grew up in Dallas, you know who I mean) in just the first two weeks of the year. I’ll be honest; watching the video of Rush’s first-ever life performance of “Losing It” in 2015 made me cry.
Not to mention the fact that events in Washington have gone beyond farcical to “the most dangerous moment I can remember in my lifetime and yes I remember Nixon thank you for asking.”
But, that’s not what I’m here to talk about today. What I’d like to talk about is my umbrella. I have the best umbrella. I own very few things that I would describe as “the best”. Part of that is determined by my financial reality and part of it is just the lack of a need to have “the best” of anything. I do not need things to be “the best”; I generally just need them to work for me.
But, as a public transit user, I am out in the rain rather a lot. So, one Christmas a while back, I asked my wife for a “really nice umbrella”. Nicole took that to mean “get the absolute best umbrella available on the planet”. Or, at least, that’s what it seems like.
My umbrella is black, which is a good color for an umbrella. It has a crooked wooden handle and a wooden poke-y bit that sticks out the top with a metal cap. It’s longer and larger than your standard umbrella, and it stands up to wind better than any umbrella I’ve ever held. It’s a really beautiful piece and it works marvelously.
I wouldn’t say that everyone must own at least one thing that is “the best”, but having exactly one is a curiously pleasant experience. I have the best umbrella. I carry it knowing that it’s as good as an umbrella can get. So, if you can have one, small or small-ish thing that is that absolute best, I strongly recommend it.
This is me trying to be positive in the face of one hell of a negative headwind. But, I really do like the umbrella.
-RK