Raging Dad

One of my criticisms of Portlanders is that they have no fucking idea what a real storm is like. Sure, they get a lot of rain. But so does Minneapolis. Almost the same amount, in fact; Minnesota gets it in huge summer storms instead of the constant dribble that we get in the Pacific Northwest.

On the drive out to Minnesota, we encountered a fantastic rain storm in North Dakota that came out of the blue and plunged our van into an all-but-impenetrable blackness. The pounding rain nearly forced us to pull over, but I was so transfixed by the wild flashes of lightning that I had to press on. To stop seemed to be inappropriate; the lightning wanted a dancing partner, and I wasn’t about to leave her on the floor alone.

After about an hour we began to emerge on the other side of the storm. The rain slowly faded and stopped, and the light returned to the sky. Raging Mom worried about the cars traveling in the other direction, headed into the storm. I’d have driven through it again in a heart beat.

* * *

Raging Mom took this video the other night, following a bona fide Minnesota rain storm. After the rain the lightning danced on for more than 30 minutes. I wish I would have been with her to watch it, the sky wild with electricity  dangerous and beautiful as it noiselessly lit up the sky. Lightning is always better when you have someone to share it with.

* * *

For three weeks my family has been in Minnesota visiting family, while I held down the fort here in Portland. I’m not gonna lie: I was looking forward to this time alone. Sure, the drive to and from our homeland consumed the bulk of my precious Vacation Days. But we all knew that the days and nights away from the responsibilities of herding children was to be my real vacation.

We had initially planned to not travel Home this summer, as it is just too damn expensive to fly with three kids. Then, the idea of an extended trip by van, sans Raging Dad, might be just the ticket. For the cost of one plane ticket we found that Holly and the kids could go back for pretty much as long as they wanted.

And why not stay for a few weeks? Moving out to Portland three years ago, we did three months apart. Why stop at two weeks? Let’s do a month! So we made the drive and I moseyed my fleet-footed self back to enjoy a quiet house.

I have properly spent the time doing my own thing: I ignored the dishes and laundry, I saw a few concerts, I worked on some long-ignored projects, I sat on my ass, I watched nearly every film that Stanley Kubrick ever made.

I’ve enjoyed the time, but I miss my kids. I miss my wife. The house is quiet, but it is too quiet. At first, I noticed that the cats were on edge; they didn’t understand where everyone went. We have these wonderful cats who thrive on the madness that follows my children around wherever they tread. I have come to realize, that like my cats, I too thrive in the madness. It has been too sane.

As Flavor Flav said to Chuck D., “Bring that beat back.”

Today I talked with Raging Mom. She and the kids are ready to come Home too. Yep, I typed that right. Come back here, to Home.

Song of the day: “Dry Lightning,” by Bruce Springsteen.

.