I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille

The rain here is pretty straightforward. It either rains or it doesn't. Sometimes there will be a very light mist in the mornings, but those are pretty much the only three options. There isn't much variety.

In Seattle, there is rain, drizzle, sprinkles, mist, showers, scattered showers, scattered thunderstorms, thunderstorms. The Eskimos have nine words for snow. Seattle has forty-six for rain. Sometimes they will forecast morning showers, turning into sprinkles later on, and scattered thunderstorms in evening with rain for everybody else. (And then you wake up the next day and it is completely sunny the whole time.)

Here, most of the time here the rain will come in the afternoon and usually there is about an hour or so of warning before it happens. The hour is about the time it takes for the clouds to appear on the horizon till they get to wherever you are. Often, because of the heat and humidity you just kind of know when it is going to rain.

Sometimes it takes you a little off guard though. If the rain comes after dark there isn't that sudden temperature drop and chill in the air that accompanies these tropical rains.

When the rain starts, it isn't always few drops here or there that progresses into a larger rainstorm. Often the very minute the rain starts it hits full power and is enough to drench you to the bone in a matter of seconds. Often because of the speed with which the rains move it comes in full force the moment it starts falling. Still, because of the daytime sky turning to night and the temperature dropping by up to ten degrees (or 6 centigrade) in a matter of minutes there is ample warning.

The other warning sign that the rain is coming is the roar that the falling rain makes at it is approaching.

The only time in my life I've felt like I was in a scene was when I was with my brothers and I was driving across North Dakota doing 110mph on the interstate in our grandma's Ford Taurus blasting heavy metal through the speakers. It felt if the Dukes of Hazard met a direct-to-DVD sequel of The Fast and The Furious.

That all changed this week, when I felt like I was in a movie for the second time in my life. You know that stereotypical scene where the character(s) stand around and all of a sudden through the silence they see or hear the impending danger. Realizing this danger results in the character(s) running for dear life. Some examples can be found in:

• The Lord of the Rings (with John Rhys-Davies) when they are in the Mines of Moria and realize the balrog (that big fiery creature) is down there with them and they have to run from it.
• Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark (with John Rhys-Davies and directed by Steven Spielberg) when in the very beginning Indie hears the rumble of the giant stone rolling to crush him, turns around wide-eyed, and then sprints for his life.
• Saving Private Ryan (directed by Steven Spielberg starring Tom Hanks) when they stop to help a villager in the rain and then hear the rat-a-tat of machine gun fire, panic, and scramble to take cover.
• Apollo 13 (starring Tom Hanks and BOOM KEVIN BACON!!!) when the astronauts here the warning alarms before hurrying like there's no tomorrow to put out a fire that is consuming all their oxygen.

My own movie moment was more like Honey I Shrunk the Kids when the aforementioned kids get caught in a hail of death-sized water drops when the sprinkler turns on.

It was one evening when I was sitting around with a bunch of kids discussing who-knows-what (plasma physics, probably) when we heard a rumble in the distance. This was not the kind of rumble that comes from thunder, this was more of a sustained din. After looking at one another, there was a dramatic pause (isn't there always) and somebody screamed "RAAAAAAAAAAAAAIN!!!".

At that point, the rain started pounding on the roof of the cafeteria and everybody bolted as fast as they could to run for shelter. For the boys, they had about 10 yards to sprint till they were in their dorm. The girls, maybe about fifty yards to the front of their house. Me? A full 100 yards to make it to my house. I grabbed my courage, put my head down, and sprinted as if my life depended on it. Did it? Not in the slightest. Was my adrenalin pumping all the same? A week has gone by and I'm still amped up!

I made it to my house dry, slammed the door behind me (for dramatic effect) and collapsed out of breath onto my couch (they should have just given me an Oscar right there) as my ever stoic roommate Daniel glanced up from his book and asked, "Rain, huh?"