Tuesday, April 17, 2012
A modern-day version of striking gold in San Francisco.
On Friday the 13th, 8 lightning bolts hit the Golden Gate Bridge.
We had a big thunderstorm in our area, too, even though we're more than a few miles south of the city. Our son, Ryan (who turns 32 today), happened to be spending last Thursday night with us because we had taken him out to dinner for an early birthday celebration. It was quite late when he decided to go for his nightly run, despite the fact that it was pitch dark and raining slightly. In the middle of his route, the skies erupted with a thunder and lightning spectacular that included buckets of the wet stuff pouring down on him. Yep, those raindrops kept falling on his head, but that didn't mean his eyes would soon be turning red (or that he would be hurrying home to bed, either). Instead, he finished his run while his crazy mom went out looking for him in my Pilot, worried that he might get struck by lightning himself! Of course, his father insisted it wasn't necessary, and both of them laughed at me when I came in from the cold, some time after Ryan had already arrived.
The birthday boy did look like a drowned rat, so I guess I had the last laugh...
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RYAN!
We struck gold the day you were born.
HAVE FUN IN KAUAI!!
(Shouldn't every birthday be celebrated in the Aloha state?