Well, the sun was out most of the day today, but I happened to get caught in the rain. I had got on my trusty bike and cycled down to the Shaw’s on the other side of the JFK/UMass T station. I make it a point to go to that supermarket rather than the new Stuper Slop-n-Schnapps because every time I go to Shaw’s I hear Nicolette Larson’s “Lotta Love”. They have it on a continuous loop there, and Jesus God I love that song with all my heart. I do. Neil Young wrote it, and I have his version at home, but Neil Young is no Nicolette Larson. Once you’ve heard her version, you go back and Neil sounds like Kermit The Frog singing it. I heard Nicolette’s version first, of course. That’s the one they played on the radio back in ‘78, when I was nine. Nine. That was a very good year.

So every trip to Shaw’s is like a trip back in time. To nine.

Now, it was sunny–you know, partly cloudy, but the sun was shining, when I got to Shaw’s. When I stepped out of the supermarket there was this wall of black, impenetrable evil barrelling across the heavens. It was inscrutibly ominous and headed straight for me, like, like, like my future, or something. But it was moving so fast and headed for Southie, I thought maybe, just maybe it’ll pass right on over me and rain on somebody else’s parade.

No such luck. Just as I got on my bike and jetted off across the parking lot, all hell broke loose. There was this ferocious wind whipping all around, and lightning and thunder. It was very Wagnerian. And then came, not rain, but HAIL! Riding your bike in a hail storm. Not a good idea.

So I took a detour into the T station. Haven’t been in JFK for probably a month, maybe a little more. Figured I could wait out the brunt of the storm there. Or at least the hail. I was surprised to see that they’ve got a wall of ticket machines where the newpapers used to be. They’ve also got a couple of the new turnstiles in there, though I can’t say if they’re up and running yet.

I still didn’t really want to hang out there, so after a couple minutes, I took off. I was soaked to the skin by the time I got home, and now the sun’s out again. It’s true what they say about New England weather: you don’t like it? Wait a minute, it’ll change.