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Summit Up

Good morning and welcome to Summit Up, the world’s only daily column with a nostril full of rain.

For a change, it was good to be chained to the desk Monday (not to mention in the best interest of our health and the integrity of our epidermis). We sat here at the Corporate Suites, first looking at the sky turn an ominous gray – the kind of unhealthy pallor we normally associate with people who have seen ghosts or swallowed a large amount of smokeless tobacco – then drop a storm of hail, then a monsoon of torrential, wind-

driven rain. It was one of those private moments where you take great pride in not being that guy on the other side of the window who’s out suffering in the elements (like the Summit Up Staffer who returned from her trip to the post office and the gas station with a fat lip thanks to the hail).



But aside from our self-righteous little pleasures, we also couldn’t help noting the strong smell of rain before it all started. We’re not talking about the smell rain makes when it falls on hot asphalt (not good). We’re not talking about the smell of rain after it mixes with the piles of clipping from your freshly mowed lawn (not that anybody has enough of a lawn around here to know what we’re talking about). Nor are we referring to the smell rain makes when it soaks your dog, who defies all common sense your mother would have given it to get it to come in out of the rain and refuses to listen to your commands to do the same.

No, we’re talking about the smell of rain before it rains, that aroma that touches that primitive part of the cortex, the part cavemen used to know when they should get back to the cave (a cerebral machination still used today by the aforementioned mothers). There’s something sweet and soothing in that odor, don’t you think?



This does nothing to tell us where it comes from, though, and that is our question for the day: Why does rain smell? How does it smell? Why does it seem to smell the same whether we’re in Kalamazoo or Summit Up Land? Why is it that every time we buy a deodorant that says it smells like rain, it doesn’t smell anything like rain (unless the deodorant-maker is referring to the slimy, chemical-smelling rain from planets like Venus)?

Maybe we’ll never know. Maybe we weren’t meant to know.

***

A Summit County Ambulance paramedic called to report this Scum Alert!! Scum Alert!! Two different cars on two different occasions have been broken into at their building on County Road 450. On both occasions, the “opportunistic thugs” broke in and stole radios out of both cars.

These are on-duty paramedics’ personal vehicles. We say to the folks without tunes, don’t worry S karma is sending these goons a couple of broken legs, on the house. And as sweet revenge, when you paramedics go to pick them up, we suggest you blast the Englebert Humperdink greatest hits collection at the highest volume possible.

***

We think days of the week should be renamed with women’s names, just like boats. Tuesday could be “Martha.” Just think about it: Your friends would be asking you, “Hey, what are you doing on Martha?” And you’d say, “Nothing, man, I’ve got to work. I’m working through Agatha.” And your friends would know exactly what you mean.

Feel free to tell us what we mean at summitup@summitdaily.com, fax at (970) 668-0755 or just tell us how you think days should be renamed on the voicemail at (970) 668-3998, ext. 237.

We’re out jumping in rain

puddles …


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