Random Fandom

I love to feel the RAIN IN THE SUMMERTIME
I love to feel the rain on my face
-- The Alarm, "Rain in the Summertime"

The monsoon arrived sometime earlier this week. But like many new businesses or resorts, it conducted a "soft opening," in which it works out the kinks before official festivities begin. And so for two days it did nothing more than make the outdoors feel like a sauna and spread the dust around like a baker sneezing into a pile of flour. But last night, around 11:00 or so, the monsoon began. It rained emphatically, with lightning and thunder punctuating the downpour. And so, with the loud drone of rain, the flashes of lightning, and a worrisome roof (don't ask), I went to the family room and watched the rain in the back yard.

I love the rain but live in this city -- Phoenix -- which is spectacularly unsuited to accepting it gracefully. The ground is parched and paved over, while underpasses were designed by people who thought, "No, we'll never get rain at all." So rather than the rain we so desperately need being taken into the ground, it runs into the sewers, sweeping away the dirt, the grass, and the cars in the underpasses.

And as I sat there, my thoughts turned to Randy Johnson. Now, when it came to the debate over Bob Brenly, I was fairly passive. I didn't think he absolutely had to go (especially in mid-season), but understood why, and didn't lose any sleep over it when he did.

But Randy. This firestorm (another Arizona summer specialty) has swept across the city quickly and has made me, well, sad. So, Joe, Jerry, do whatever it is you're going to do. Trade him, keep him, trade the entire damn team. Just do it now. I don't want Randy to be traded, but more than that, I don't want to think about it anymore. I'm tired of listening to it on the radio, reading it in the papers, writing about it in here. Because I read 6-4-2 on a regular basis, I'm aware of the Southern California perspective on a Randy trade (here's the latest update). Checking the Yankee or Red Sox blogs would make me too depressed, however. I just want to get out from under all this talk and enjoy my baseball again.

I want the monsoon to wash it all away.

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So the AL won the All-Star Game. Looks like the D-Backs won't get homefield advantage in the World Series.

What?

Oh, yeah. Sorry.

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On a completely unrelated note, but a necessary antidote to the relatively depressing tone of what's above, here's something sent to me by my friend Evan, a Yankee fan, but a stellar person in every other respect. It's Jon Stewart's commencement address at William & Mary.