It ain't gonna rain no more, no more,
It ain't gonna rain no more.
So how the heck can I wash my neck,
If it ain't gonna rain no more?
"It Ain't Gonna Rain No More" was one of my father's favorite songs. It was written and recorded by Wendell Hall in 1923. As a matter of fact it was the best selling record of that year and it sold over two million copies. Wendell Hall was born in 1898 in Kansas and started his career in Vaudeville. He played both the xylophone and the ukulele and later became famous for his work with the ukulele. Wendell was known as both "the red-haired music maker" and the "pineapple picador". In those days when radio wasn't yet very developed people made their own entertainment and the ukulele and the banjo were very popular. When I was a kid many of my older relatives used to reminisce about playing in banjo and ukulele bands and how much fun it was. The servicemen of World War II grew up listening to music written by Wendell Hall and his songs were great favorites. I think my father knew about one hundred verses to "It Ain't Gonna Rain No More" and he and his army buddies probably made up most of them.
For the past month I have been searching the sky for rainclouds and humming my father's old song. As it happens every year I was getting a little desperate for a nice soaking rain. Last week we had a few light evening showers in places but they did little more than settle the dust and raise the humidity. Very early this morning, in the "wee" hours on the Feast of Saint Anthony, we received our first soaking rain. The the birds and the bees and the grass and the trees are all smiling and so are the farmers. It is like taking that first swig of iced tea after a long and grueling tennis match in the hot sun. Thank you, God, for the rain...and for everything else too!
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