Wearin' in the Rain

We got a visit from the Great Ernesto today. He blew into -- and right back out of -- town with a few million gallons of his best raindrop friends and assorted blowhard pals. The result has been selective tree pruning and water all over the floors of folks' cars.
But that's not what I want to say.
What I want to cover is, well, coverings. Raincoats. Foul weather gear. Galoshes. Macks.
As a pup I loved to play in the rain. I don't remember ever being in dangerous, life-threatening weather -- but there was the time Timmy Buchholtz got stuck in the mud at a new house that was being built in the neighborhood. It had snowed a couple days before and then it rained. He had jumped into a hole and water was funneling into it and he played there for a while until her realized he was stuck in the mud. But I digress -- suffice it to say we got him out and he shortly thereafter got a whipping. Easy come, easy go.
But I loved to play in the rain -- football w/ the neighborhood kids, tromping through the woods, backyard golf, you name it. Loved to be out in the elements.
Yeah, I guess I remember how uncomfortable it might have been, but I never cut short fun just because I got wet.
Then a couple days ago I think I grew up.
I found myself shopping for foul weather gear ahead of Ernesto's arrival. A little downpour that evening whilst walking my trusty dog, Sandy, found me actually WANTING to avoid getting wet.
It was then that I learned how much staying dry in the face of the elements could cost. Maybe I had learned this some 40 years earlier and finally forgot about it, but waterproof gear is pricey.
I knew better than to go looking for the $200+ Gore Tex outfits at LL Bean or Sports Authority.
A nice Members-only-style jacket with a hood retailed for $100, on sale for $40 at Burlington Coat Factory. But there were no pants to go with it, so I passed.
An Eddie Bauer camping-style rainsuit at Target was the same price minus any of the style or comfort.
An umbrella? Are you serious? Those folks at Totes have a great scam going with their $25 compact jobs that are only going to be a) lost, b) left at home or in the car, c) otherwise not where and when you need it, and d) it won't work more than 4 seconds anyway with a wind of more than, say, 7 mph. Yeah, I was jonesing for an umbrella!
So I, in my infinite cheapness, decided on the Coleman emergency rainsuit; a simple, clear heavy-duty plastic job consisting of pants w/ elastic waist and zip-front jacket w/ pockets and a detachable hood.
I wandered out into the deluge this morning to load the dog in the truck for daycare at the ex-wife's house -- with her blessing -- and quickly learned a couple things. First, this Ernesto was earnest-o about wind and rain. It was just a-comin' down! And that detachable hood? Oh, yeah, it detaches alright. And gives you the sport of chasing it through the storm with a reluctant canine struggling to go the other direction and -- at no extra charge -- a thorough soaking from the torrent.
After much wrangling, the hood was still detached, but nonetheless reunited with its jacket. And the dog got to the safety of the truck's shell-covered bed.
I went back into the house and changed shirts: I took off the soaked one, toweled off, put on a new shirt and again, secured hood to jacket and ventured out into the malestrom.
This was much more successful. But I was still glad I took yet another shirt to work with me so I'd be dry. Even with the care I took, I was fairly damp.
So what have we learned? For one, a $40 rain coat may or may not be worth the money, but a $10 rainsuit is definitely worth every dime. It won't keep you dry, but you get your money's worth in plastic.