January 2015 was the driest on record in Northern California, according to various media pundits.
Then, I uttered these magic words: “I’m going to San Francisco for a couple of days.”
I left very early on Friday morning. I was pelted with rain the second I set foot in the city, and got drenched within the hour. Except for a few brief respites on Saturday, the weather could best be described as “torrential.” A few calls to the family confirmed that the same was happening in Santa Cruz County. A two-block walk from the Caltrain station to a store today became a study in futility, drenching my socks, soaking my suitcase, and making me look like a pitiful urchin. (The hair alone…)
“Elizabeth, that’s a complete coincidence,” you say. Au contraire. This has happened to me every time I’ve spent more than a day in San Francisco. All I have to do is think about an excursion to the city for this to happen. I remember a passage from a photo book about the U2: Rattle and Hum documentary proclaiming that the band lived under a meteorological curse, because every time they filmed a major show (Red Rocks in 1983 being the most famous example), horrendous inclement weather would threaten to scuttle the whole project instantly.
That’s what I have: a meteorological curse induced by San Francisco travel. So, to solve California’s water woes, I just have to plan multiple-day trips to the city at strategic intervals. Now, if I can just get a major grant from the county or state water board…