The Weatherman

Stop That

My dad controls the weather. He's had this ability since WWII, when, as a navigator, he'd make it rain so they wouldn't have to fly treacherous missions over Germany.  How did he do it?  It's top secret, of course, not the sort of thing you'd want to share with the enemy, but I know this much:  frantic hand gestures, communal foot stomping and his own mental powers played a big part in the miracle.  After the war, he discovered that this gift works in reverse, too.  He can make it not rain.   He can make the clouds go away and the sun come out.  And, he can do it on short notice.

Take the time we were in San Luis Obispo, on the way to check out UC Santa Cruz as a possible college choice for the eldest.  It was overcast and dreary.  Naturally, I called up my dad and told him to get busy. "In three minutes, the sun will come out," he said.  Click. He had work to do.  Sure enough, three minutes later, out came the sun,  as promised.  I called him back.  "Dad, you did it again."  "Anything else?"  "No, that'll do it."  Vacations, cross-country drives, graduations, bar mitzvahs, outdoor parties.  It's always better to give him a heads up whenever possible. This morning, I gave him plenty of lead time.  "Dad, we'll be in New York in two weeks." "Dates please." I gave him the dates.  "Done."  My dad.  He controls the weather, but only for his immediate family.  It's just one of the many things he does to keep us happy... and dry.