Rain song.

Why is it that Gene Kelly can dance around in puddles of water and not twist his ankle or even hint at an injury? Yet, if I attempted this type of dance, I would break my ankles (yes, that was plural), legs, arms, and/or tailbone beyond repair and more than likely spend months wondering why I decided to burst into an impromptu dance on the way to a job interview.

Once while at college, I decided it would be fun to pretend I had forgotten my umbrella and walk through a downpour to my car, which was parked about 2 miles west of my location (I'm lying about the "west" thing...I really don't know which direction is west, east, north, or south from my location most of the time...it just sounded good.) I ended up getting drenched and ruining my favorite shirt. I'm guessing the acid rain stained it. It never lost the tye-dye look, even after several washings. I could launch into a speech about the perils of polution, but I will kindly refrain, as this is not a political blog, but a light, marshmallow pie/marmalade sky blog.

Despite my lack of grace in puddles and on rain-soaked sidewalks, I adore watching Gene Kelly dance flawlessly in the rain with his classic pearly whites sparkling. Gene Kelly is the cure for common sadness, and should be celebrated. I am including this "rain song" on my blog as an opportunity for you to travel away from your troubles for one fleeting moment on to the rain-soaked sidewalks and to splash in the puddles of the Hollywood that once was.