Opinion
 

Beware of umbrella aggression

By Joshua Curry

The headlines of our newspapers are painted with failure, terror and death, together picking up momentum and spreading like a tremulous hurricane that rests its shrewd eye above America. Who could forget UH's own skyrocketing tuition prices? Tragedy had not even reached its peak for me until Monday, when the sky began to fall, the place finally began to freeze over and one couldn't help but keep an eye out for a vertically challenged woman carrying a tune.

It started with a yellow light on Cullen Boulevard. I had just enough time to stop but the potholes, filled with fresh acid rain, sparked doubt. I hesitated three times and finally made a decision as my car coasted across the intersection. Simultaneously, the anticipation of relative warmth to be found across the street and the yellow light had patient students waiting along the curb and listening for bells. A cascade of acid rain formerly in a pothole followed my car, leaving many commuters drenched in its wake as we all heard the sweet resonating that means both an angel had gotten its wings and that those students were very close to making it out dry. 

To protect myself from this bitter April, I decided to take the bus. I could avoid the karma I'm due and, likewise, remain dry. Of course, many had the same idea. I'm not quite comfortable with buses or anything else which forces the word "squish" into my vocabulary. 

The crowd flowed fluidly out of the bus and the games began with a chorus of clicks. A sea of pointy tarps, almost consistently at eye level, kept me leaning and swerving in a terrible impression of somebody trying to survive. My balance kept my walk more reminiscent of a barrel, as I tried to maintain a center of gravity six inches ahead of my feet. I pondered the possibility of wearing an eye patch for the rest of my life and give a scruffy smirk.

The assailant: umbrellas. They're sort of drifters, floating around the world and protecting make-up, hairstyles and shopping bags from unrelenting downpours. But the story doesn't stop here: After years of never-ending battles with rainfall, the umbrella is getting fed up. We heard a similar story a few years ago with the trucker hat that regained its popularity through grassroots politics and a little so-called "punk rocking." As for the umbrella, knowledge only circulates around the abandonment it so often receives at bus stops and waiting rooms, the kind of solutions that are far too forgiving. Indeed, many of them are fighting back. Decades of days spent hugging themselves tightly to juice those last drops from their hides have driven the umbrellas to an epiphany. The rain will never stop, so it is the humans who must pay. Revenge, up to now, has come with the mere flip out during a windy day in the anxious pursuit of my eyeballs. The revolt is spreading, however.

As the nation's future leaders, is it not our responsibility to protect our fellow man and ensure that we will meet the fate long due to us via the collision of a meteor with our planet? The alternative here is clear: Wearing hooded jackets is both safe and unlikely to violate anyone else's intimate space. For extra added protection, wear a trucker hat under the hood and your head will stay soft and dry. A large hoodie can even accommodate medium-sized backpacks.

Curry, a columnist for The Daily Cougar, 
can be reached at barelyafloat@hotmail.com.