Rain down, rain down on me.

So. Mumford and Sons. Merriweather Post Pavilion. Lawn seats. A few hours prior to leaving, I sent my brother the following email, which included an excerpt from a weather blog on the Washington Post:

"This evening starts out sultry with readings still well up in the 80s and barely a breath of breeze. What is really interesting is that one of the main computer models has been advertising some notable downpours this evening all week. I would not be surprised to see just such an event cover as much as half the area. The storms are likely to be slow movers so brief localized street flooding is a possibility."

um, i am not going to be pleased if we get rained on. or if it's over 100 when i land. i guess i better put on some deodorant in advance, huh?

He responded with:

OH MY GOD it is a sultry hell hole. didn't wear an undershirt and i sweat through the front and back of my dress shirt just from my commute. i am going to be basically naked.

UHH also it better not effing rain. i didn't bring shoes that could get wet.

(It was well over 100 when I landed. I think it hit 104 that day.)
Now that the stage is set... We roll up to the concert after stopping at Chipotle for burritos and chips and guac, which we inhaled in the car. We are presented with this:

Looks nice and bright over the lawn, right? I didn't get a shot of the giant Cloud of Doom that was behind us. We settled in on our beach towel (thanks for the suggestion, Mom!) and listened to the opening acts. We blithely ignored the thunder that could be heard over the sound system. And then we felt a few drops. And then we felt a few more drops. And then we were in the middle of a "notable downpour." Darned if the forecaster wasn't right. That was a crazy storm. We ended up completely soaked to the skin. I tucked my phone in my armpit and huddled next to my brother under a beach towel. He fought valiantly to keep his shoes dry. People danced around us and exulted in the rain for the first few minutes; then they started complaining. We laughed.

As quickly as the storm came, it went. I stripped down to a camisole and my brother, along with most other men in the audience, dispensed with his shirt entirely.

And shortly after, Mumford and Sons took the stage. And all our worries about being cold and wet and muddy were erased and we danced and sang and had the time of our lives. It's been a while since I've been to a concert like this, where everyone knows every word to every song, and golly but the energy was just out of this world.

But wow was the car ride home uncomfortable!