How high? How HIGH?

Why have umbrellas, and all things umbrella-ish, been so lacking from my life?
Seriously, I am now well into my fourth decade of existence, and I have yet to really own an umbrella.
What is wrong with me?

At lunchtime today, and again after work, walking from my car to the mega-bookstore downtown, I got soaked.

You’d think I’d learn.
You’d think I’d mend my ways.
But neither thing has happened.
I’m soaked on rainy days!

Can I be honest here?
I have always felt real stupid carrying an umbrella.
Can I be even more honest?
I’ve only carried one once!
And man did I ever feel stupid.
Found it leaning on a bench, near a souvenir store.
So I took it.
I didn’t just “take it.”
I looked around a lot first. Whistled a bit. [It’s always good to whistle a bit before taking something that is not really yours]. Waited for the rightful owner to come by.
It was a sunny day. Finally I realized what this was all about. I mean, I was born at night, but not last night!
Why is there an umbrella leaning so provocatively against a bench, on a SUNNY day.... nearly inviting me to take it home with me? Well it became quite obvious.
This umbrella belonged to no one.
It was being given to me by God!
So I took it.

I placed it in the closet.
About a week later, I found use for it. Looked out the window on a Saturday.
It was raining. No probs. I have an UMBRELLA now! I am one of those people who HAVE AN UMBRELLA!
I exited the building.
SWOOSH!
In an impressive display of mechanical ingenuity, it kicked its legs out and flapped open at the mere push of a button. Nearly took my eye out.
This is obviously one of those “rites of passage” things right? To know that “YOU ARE NOW FULLY HUMAN?”
You have unswooshed an umbrella..... fellow humanoid.
Immediately, I was disoriented.
How high do I hold this confounded thing? Like sort of far up, or just close down over my head?
Where are the instructions?
I felt like some kind of.... pterodactyl was hovering over me, and I holding its one leg!

But, true enough... it is raining. I’m as equipped as the next guy now, I guess.
I start walking.
I am amazed at how immediately disconcerting this whole thing is.
I am not kidding you when I say I would have felt more comfortable walking down the street clad only in underwear. [Not that I’ve ever done this, I swear].
But seriously now, it becomes apparent to me that there are a myriad of options bombarding my brain.... and the most immediate one is simply HOW HIGH DO I HOLD THIS THING?
Like sort of.... way up there? No. Closer down to my head?
Should my arm be sort of away from my body.... or like this... with my elbow resting on my side?
I have never felt so abandoned. The innocent pitter-patter of rain on the thin plastic is as foreign to my ears as advanced Sanskrit. Both being languages I’ve never heard....
[By now I am a fair ways from my apartment building.... cannot even see the shoreline, I am committed to this thing now... I am walking in the rain with a stolen umbrella and I don’t know how to do it, I swear for the life of me.....]
OK, hold on now..... how about looking at that bloke across the street... seems like he’s doing it fairly normal like.... a bit higher then? No probs. There we go.
That’s feeling pretty good. I can live with that.
I AM AN UMBRELLA CARRIER!
But the euphoria is short-lived. The guy turns the corner ahead of me and I am on my own again.
Worse!
As I’m looking around for another example of pterodactyl-holders I pass by a building with mirrored glass.... and there I am..... looking at me.....
My confidence is dashed to shreds. I can’t possibly look that dorky. BUT I DO!
I’m RIGHT THERE! Look!
I AM MARY POPPINS!
But I can’t stop walking... that would be too weird. I keep going. You’ve gotta keep going.
Regroup. THINK! What would Tolstoy do?
My poor shivering umbrella is undulating like a 747 in serious turbulence! I literally do not know how high this thing is supposed.....
Oh good. Oh good. Two people across the street under one umbrella. Walking towards me. This is a prime example of at least intermediate umbrella skill..... “watch, but don’t stare” I whisper to myself... [they are getting closer].... hmmm... nice elevation he’s got going there, much more natural looking than me [I quickly adjust my own umbrella-altitude]... to my surprise I am struck with some sudden sense of camaraderie as they pass by and I have this strange urge to identify with them... “Look, I’ve got an umbrella too!”
But I don’t say it. And just then, as they pass by and are gone, I see myself again in the reflective glass of another building.
I have never looked stupider.
Even in previous appearances of the same day!

Soon, I begin to weigh my options.
Looking like a wet dog. Or looking like Mary Poppins.

It was there, at the entrance to the mega-bookstore that I threw the whole crazy squawking mess into the rubbish bin. Snapped its wings and legs!
And concluded, once and for all.... umbrellas are not for me.