Well, it is autumn and the weather media is hard at it. If I was them, anything but trump would be a welcome topic. Rain comes with the season and the weathernazis are all over it. They're filling sandbags. Maybe it will be a repeat of the 1962 Columbus Day storm. I was young then. I had a brand new umbrella -- one with a golden flowered shade in the Victorian shape, a sharp spire in the center with a swooping skirt. It was perfect, and lasted about five minutes in the wind. It lifted me off of my fourth-graded feet and turned inside out. I was devastated. I remember black and white TV newsreels of buckling bridges. It may have been my imagination. You know how I am.