Don’t Let the Rain Come Down
There were a few anxious moments a few weeks ago when some of our mountain communities were an island unto themselves, as many of the routes into and out of the mountain were rendered useless by torrents of water, flowing mud and falling rocks.
Welcome to Shangri-La, that mystically romantic mountain paradise, cut off and hidden from civilization, as depicted in the 1937 movie classic Lost Horizon. Anyone familiar with the movie knows paradise isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. And whose fault is it? Mother Nature? Caltrans? Ourselves?
Actually, a good case could be made for all of the above. Some say it’s our fault for living here…that we should have known this would happen someday. Of course, Mother Nature is to blame. You have no control over nature or climate change… unless you have solar power or drive a Tesla.
“Oh, no, don’t let the rain come down (Ah, ah) oh, no, don’t let the rain come down (Ah, ah) oh, no, don’t let the rain come down, my roof’s got a hole in it and I might drown, oh, yes, my roof’s got a hole in it and I might drown. There was a crooked man, and he had a crooked smile, had a crooked sixpence and he walked a crooked mile, had a crooked cat and he had a crooked mouse. They all lived together in a crooked little house. Oh, no, don’t let the rain come down, my roof’s got a hole in it and I might drown.” (“Don’t Let The Rain Come Down” – Serendipity Singers – 1964)
Now that we know whose fault it is, what are we going to do about this vexing predicament? Well, since California’s coffers are bursting at the seems with an overabundance of tax revenue…have you noticed the ever-increasing cost of gas? Yes, that’s what I thought.
Now that we’ve solved that problem, what do we do in the meantime? I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna pop a can of lemonade – OK, so it’s really beer – and continue living “The Life of Riley” in my mountaintop Shangri-La, here at the stately Motley Manor.
Have you ever noticed that The Sun newspaper – no stranger to denigrating mountain residents – keeps referring to us as “Mountain Dwellers”… as if we were something akin to cave dwellers? Very well, I’ll go with Mountain Dweller; after all, I’ve been called a lot worse things than that, which begs the question…How do you know you are a mountain dweller?
You might just be one if you can see blue sky in the daylight and stars at night; you actually follow the “Cooking at Higher Altitudes” instructions on the box; you know the difference between rain and tree rain; and you talk to the squirrels.
“Ah, ah, oh, no, don’t let the rain come down, my roof’s got a hole in it and I might drown.”
Keep it flyin’ Uncle Mott