As I write this, it’s raining in Conyers and Covington.
I know this because I just drove between the two cities — in the rain — wipers going and water pouring from the sky. I also know it because I’m the one who made it rain.
Yep. I’m the one who brought on this rainstorm, and it’s certainly not the first time I’ve done it. You can make it rain, too, if you follow some simple instructions.
“That’s crazy talk,” you must be thinking. “No human can make it rain! God is in charge of the sweet rain, and old Charlie Darwin and his monkeys are behind anything nasty that falls from the sky.”
Well, think what you want, but let me tell you my trick. To make it rain, all you have to do is hope that it doesn’t.
That’s it. It’s ironic, but simply by hoping the sky stays clear, you’re sure to get a gully washer.
I learned my rainmaking skills from my mother. She used to hang clothes out to dry, back when we had a clothesline, before Sears graced our family basement with a clothes dryer. She’d hope for a sunny day, and it would pour rain.
I also learned to make rain by watching my dad. He would wash and wax his old Ford Galaxy 500, and hope for a dry day. And it would rain. Hope does it.
Hope is a positive emotion, and it pulls on any negatively-charged rain clouds hovering about. Opposites attract. The more you hope, the more the clouds you get.
I made it rain today, just by visiting the paint store and hoping. “Oh, please, stay dry today! I prepped and caulked that wooden window and really need to paint it this evening!”
That much positive hope is just begging for rain. And if that wasn’t enough, I washed my truck in one of those fancy car washes. Even if the clouds were going to overlook my freshly-prepped window, they were not going to let me get away with a clean truck.
So the clouds found my hope and opened up. My wooden window was soaked, and my clean truck was splattered.
Now you know how to make rain. It’s so simple; they should teach this in elementary school. But they don’t. And it’s not taught in meteorology school, either.
It’s such a pity about education today, isn’t it?
David McCoy, a notorious storyteller and proud Yellow Jacket, lives in Covington and can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.