It rained. It rained just like the weatherman said it would. There were no specks of sunlight or rays peeking through the clouds. Just rain and a color-sucking desaturated but not-quite-gloomy field of plainness that hung around throughout the day. It made everything slower. I like that.
Shayna loves the rain. She loves the thought-provoking melancholy it brings, as well as its unique sound that helps her little insomniac body sleep. She gives me so much crap when I tell her that I’m not crazy about it.
Crazy is something that I am not. I don’t hate the rain. To tell the truth, I enjoy it. I enjoy looking at it, hearing it, smelling it. I enjoy how it affects us: it makes us (hopefully) more careful and deliberate in our doings. One goes from walking, biking or driving to having to walk, bike, or drive in the rain. When the weather is bad everyone (in a certain locale) suddenly has something in common and they are all that much closer to each other. When it rains it brings back memories of past rainy days, forcing us to be introspective. So yeah, rain has a lot going for it. What I don’t like are the physical realities that rain brings: being cold and being wet.
It is for that reason that I drove today. I’m not proud of it, but I did manage to stay dry and make it to San Jose in under thirty minutes. I usually only drive when Shayna is own her with me, since I can’t fit her on my drop-down handlebars, and even then those are mostly short trips in town. I haven’t driven that far by myself in a while. It was nice.
Once in San Jose I got to hang out with Shayna for a bit. We went and saw The Book of Eli at the theater on Almaden road. It was pretty good. I’m not a religious person but I like the idea of dedicated Old-Testament style prophets that Eli seems to represent. He’s a man of unshakeable faith who is dedicated to his holy mission, and just so happens to kick ass. The film may not win any awards but I look forward to owning a copy when it becomes available.
After the movie we went and got Chinese food at restaurant not far from the neighborhood. I think it was called “Pearl River” but I’d have to check. Got the classic won ton soup and something new to me: cashew chicken. Tasty. The meal wasn’t too expensive, but I’ve had Chinese food just as good and for less. I’d still go again, though.
Thinking about Eli again. I’d like to have that kind of faith. Once, in a lecture, Professor Sanchez brought up Kierkegaard’s concept of the “Knight of Faith”. Eli seems to be that kind of character. He knows that he’s on a mission from God and does not deviate. Wait, I take that back. There is a scene where he hesitates and must verbally remind himself to stay on the path. So no knight of faith, but he’s close. To truly and honestly believe in something that is absurd, this is what I lack. This is why I am jealous of Eli, and why I am fascinated by fanatics. This kind of belief is completely foreign to me. Or maybe it isn’t. Maybe some of my core beliefs and assumptions are equally absurd and I’m just chasing after something I’ve already got. Maybe the difference is that some would die for their crazy convictions, whereas I’d wuss out and give in when pushed. So, then, I wonder, to consistently be willing to sacrifice one’s life for one’s beliefs, what is that like? How does that feel? Abraham knew, and so did the hijackers who took down the twin towers. Frightening, but it does not lessen my curiosity.