Rain, a Motorcycle, and the Inauguration of Barack Obama

The weather has been treacherous the past week or two. It has been ambushing me on my motorcycle. And it has spent a lot of ammunition too. I called its bluff when it looked clear this morning and then it wasted several inches of rain while I sat smugly in my house. (If the roof over my kitchen didn’t leak I would have been more smug.)

Then it cleared off, the sun came out, I looked at the withered rain clouds, and knew I had my chance. I put on the shoes that didn’t get soaked in yesterday’s ambush and merrily rode to the store enjoying the rush of rain-freshened air. An hour at the store then I went and checked the last two of my six motorcycle repairs off the list. I grabbed some lunch at the Baptist center nearby.

But then I saw the problem. The rain had been creeping up behind the store and the Baptist building. And the pavement was already wet when I finished lunch. But it was only light rain and my house was away from the storm. So I put on my rain suit, mounted the bike, and smirked to think that the rain had not managed to block my retreat.

But I had not judged well and, as I raced home, it closed in from the side. I was exposed with nowhere to go and it came with wind too. I was hurrying but it came in torrents. The wind currents swirled the water on the pavement in front of me and it made me think new thoughts. Can enough wind blow a motorcycle over? What would happen if a motorcycle hydroplaned? Why did that bus have to drive through that mud puddle just now and splash it’s contents all over me? At least there’s plenty of clean rain to wash the mud off my visor. I should have gotten gloves because raindrops hurt when they hit your knuckles. This elastic doesn’t really seal around my wrists and there are pools of water in my sleeves. How do you close the “air” vents on this helmet? How was I supposed to see that pothole underwater? I hope it doesn’t rain again tomorrow because now I have to choose between wearing wet shoes and nice shoes and I don’t want to get my nice shoes wet.

In case you are wondering, I didn’t hydroplane or get blown off the road. But this time the ammunition wasn’t wasted. I got wet. And about the time I got home, the rain settled down to a placid little sprinkle. Its work was done for the day.

Malawians actually label and number their potholes, presumably for repair. I wonder if I should get a copy of their pothole map and memorize it before next time it rains.

You see, the motorcycle-rain complex is a significant part of my life, and it was also part of Barack Obama’s inauguration. I watched the inauguration at the U.S. embassy watch party which was probably considerably more comfortable than actually being there. You stood there at a reception while people kept walking past trying to give beer, wine, soft drinks, and dainty finger food. Some TV screens were playing CNN. And, of course, there was the upper that the new president is black and the downer that he has really bad policies.

I almost didn't go because of the rain. But I knew it could be my best opportunity to meet the ambassador. Besides, I’m always afraid history won’t quite work if I’m not there. So, while all these dignitaries were arriving in chauffeured cars, I drove up dripping with grocery bags tied over my shoes to keep them dry. Then I walked up to the porch area where all the formal, starched people were filing in and proceeded to pull off my (rain) pants and take the muddy, dripping bags off my shoes. For some reason I've always kind of enjoyed being an ordinary fellow in uppity crowds. It was my favorite part.

You see, in Washington, DC the U.S. Ambassador to Malawi hardly ranks in the hierarchy of things. But in Lilongwe, he’s one of the most important dignitaries. (Same size fish, different size pond.) The Chinese ambassador was also there working the crowd. So just in case all those starched people were offended by this muddy Texan, I walked up to the ambassador, introduced myself and chatted about a mutual acquaintance.

I’m not much of a socialite and neither am I a party-crasher, but I am a bit of a contrarian and I rather enjoyed the evening.

But I still wish the rain would cut me some slack.

Here's the bike. My boss's son is modeling the helmet.

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