Wednesday about noon we drove cross-town Carmel from Meridian to Allisonville Road. Then we pointed the car north toward home, but with one other destination in between. We were going to El Camino Real in Noblesville for some authentic south-of-the-border cuisine. This is where we go when we have a hankering for some good food at a fair price.
Anyway, commercial break over, we were just past 146th Street when a strange and almost forgotten aroma began to push through the vents which were supplying the cooling that made it possible to be in a car at all. It was the smell of rain! My word! the excitement that welled up within us. It was not raining where we were, but we could see the clouds to the west, and the rainfall was close enough to provide us this marvelous olfactory sensation.
We arrived at the restaurant, had a great meal then headed homeward. As we passed the traffic light at Forest Park, it started to rain! Though we ran out of the rain before we got to Cicero, the outside temperature now registered eleven degrees lower than it had before. But soon enough, it was back up again. But the good part of the story which is what I really wanted to tell is that in the evening the sky started flashing, the thunder started crashing, the wind came suddenly and bore with it tons of water. And it rained; and it rained. We sat on the porch and enjoyed this until it finally passed about fifty minutes later. I was so excited I had to call my sister in Colorado to tell her we had rain!
The downside is all the branch and limb picking up I have before me now.
Yesterday Jim posted on Down the Road a notice that he was going to a rock concert. He went on to revel in the nostalgia of the concerts in his past. Then he challenged us to tell about the concerts we had attended, and give him a link back to his article. Second part: done. Here is the first part.
I believe I have attended a total of four concerts in my life, and it may be a stretch to place any of them in the category of "rock." Dallas 1977, I was privileged to attend a Pearl Bailey concert. Probably five years later I got to hear Lena Horne in St. Louis. Wow! In 1984 I saw Neil Diamond at Market Square Arena in Indianapolis. The next and most recent concert I attended I have referred to as a "rock concert." I don't know whether Manhattan Transfer is considered a rock group or not, but it was noisy as all Armageddon. The concert took place in an old auditorium on the campus of Indiana University in Bloomington, the walls were literally shaking, and I have yet to live down the fact that I fell asleep before it was over among the people I was with.