Bet on ANY port in a storm

Now I haven’t gambled much in my life. No it is not because I am an exceptionally moral or smart ‘dunder-dude’; It actually has more to do with the fact that I LOSE MOST OF THE TIME. Wow, I haven’t even started yet and I have already depressed myself. But REALLY, my poor gambling track history does not just extend to Vegas games of chance, or cards with buddies. No, I just tend to bet on the wrong things at the wrong time so now I am gun-shy to play Russian roulette.

Take the weather for instance. My wife and I had all day to work on some projects and update the GPS on a Cessna that we use. For some odd reason, we waited until around 3PM to accomplish this rather minor task. Well the reality in the Midwest is that thunderclouds build rapidly in the afternoon so this was not our best plan nor as usual, a GOOD BET for me. Actually the GPS work went fine, but we also had some equipment checks to do on a tiny Piper Tripacer that my wife will be flying with a partner, in an air race at the end of the month.

We watch the weather fairly carefully as it can be a matter of life and death for a pilot. My wife and I weren’t worried actually; even if a storm came, it would drop a few drips, maybe a clap of thunder – how bad could it be? My wife’s under dash work tied her up in a knot inside the little plane. I was holding the door and offering sage advice, when all of a sudden the wind picked up. It proceeds to become a gale force blow and I can feel the little plane rocking on the ground wanting to fly. We had left our car at the front of the building and walked to the ‘north 40’ of the tarmac, so there was no easy retreat. The rain started pouring in buckets and the thunder crashed above us. I was mostly dry under the starboard wing but the wind continued to push more rain my way still.

My wife expressed some concern that I was standing in a water puddle with lightning cracking overhead and tried to make room for me to haul myself up into the plane where at least the rubber tires might keep me toast-free if I said something particularly offensive to anger the lightning gods. So there I was – legs half hanging out in the wind like a fat windsock and the other half crammed into this clown-sized mini plane? My wife and I are stuck in this position for fifteen minutes as wind-driven rain is dripping on my arm and all the other parts attached to my legs. What a pleasant little diversion this turned out to be? Can you now see why I am not a betting man. Too many dark clouds follow me around I guess? I think I need to move somewhere that it doesn’t rain much. Hmmm your thinking maybe Las Vegas … uh, nice try but, NO, I wouldn’t bet on it.