When an umbrella is more of a curse than a convenience

Excuse me, but I may be in a minority of one here. I have never read or heard of anybody else saying a bad word about an umbrella. Even standing on the terrace at a football match, tightly packed in the rain and with the person next to you funnelling his share of rain down on you from the top of his umbrella – and everyone seems to believe this is okay; or the woman in front giving you a match with all sound and no picture; and not knowing when you are going to get a dig from one (usually accompanying a goal). I should accept at this point that the main benefits of an umbrella are providing portable, versatile protection from rain, snow, or sun.

Nevertheless, and after acknowledging its uses, I need some convincing before becoming a fan. At one time the umbrella was regarded as a luxury item and generally reserved for royalty, and, as far as this writer is concerned, royalty should have kept them. Maybe my enmity towards the umbrella has something to do with the fact that they don’t come with an operating manual and I never mastered the art of using one properly.

I owned a man’s umbrella (not being sexist – but there is a difference) until a couple of weeks back – as well as the house being full of them. Anyway, this, my own personal portable protector lay in the boot (‘trunk’ if you’re reading this in Canada) and it was about 20 years old without ever having being used. I changed the car five or six times, but this umbrella came with each new car. That was until one morning last month…

Arriving to attend a funeral and unable to find a parking spot near the church, I halted 500 yards up the road in the driving rain. Ah, cometh the hour, cometh the umbrella, I thought to myself. Boot lid sprung up and king-sized umbrella removed. I was well wet by the time I got it opened and then a sudden squall turned it inside out. An elderly lady and her teenage daughter came to my aid and attempted to reboot the thing. We finally got it back in shape, leaving three soaking rats… two of them totally innocent victims. (Thanks again!) My helpers showed me how to open and close the umbrella by pressing the silver button. At least, now I have the hang of it…

I made it to the long-aisle door of the church, pressed the button, umbrella folded and I was in. There, I felt totally at home because there were a dozen umbrellas parked along the wall, to which mine was added. I stood just inside the door as my trousers were too wet to sit down in.

Out we came to stand and pay our respects. I fumbled with my umbrella, before asking a friend if ‘she could open this thing’. As I walked back to the car, would you believe it, the rain cleared.

I pressed the button and nothing happened. I pressed until my thumbs ached and then I did what any man would do. I rammed it as it was into the boot and slammed the lid.

Next day and in a more serene mood to start with, I opened the boot and resumed the pressing. Nothing happened so I set about manoeuvring it out as it was. (I forgot to mention that the boot was half full of stuff before I put it in). If any of you have tried to loosen a zip-tie or remove a fish hook, you get the picture. In the end, I lost the head and rammed the umbrella out the same way I rammed it in the day before. Now there were ribs of steel wire pointing in every direction and streamers of water-proof fabric flailing in the breeze.

It was typically at that very moment that Mrs Youcantbeserious arrived out to see what all the commotion was about. At the peak of her commentary I observed the now bare shaft of the umbrella and I saw that there was a ring stopper as well as a release button. Even stranger was the fact that the silver button was now black and just as the realisation was dawning on me, Mrs Youcantbeserious asked: ‘Where did you get that umbrella and what’s going on?’ I was firmly trapped and had to admit that I had brought home somebody else’s umbrella from the back porch of the church! The word ‘umbrella’ comes from the Latin word ‘umbra’, meaning ‘shadow’ and ‘umbel’ meaning ‘flower.’ Right now it was all shadow…

MEMO TO THE LADS: Don’t ever try dismantling an open umbrella with a sledge hammer. It doesn’t work – and you’ll only hurt yourself.

Don’t Forget

Some people achieve greatness, others are born great and a few have greatness thrust upon them. The rest of us just think we’re great.