There's Something Sexy About the Rain - 8/8/2007 (Background Noise) in Background Noise

”There’s something sexy about the rain”
She said as it came pouring down
“It feels like kisses on my skin”
She spread her arms and spun around
In a summer island storm
In a field of sugarcane
She taught me how and showed me why

-Kenny Chesney, “Something Sexy About the Rain”

It’s raining to beat the band here at the end of the universe. Looking through the glass of the French doors at the rain beating down on the deck, the trees, this song came to mind. With it came a memory of a girl I once knew.

While in Aviation Officer Candidate School, we rarely got even an evening off on Saturday night – it was completely up to our drill instructor. But after land survival, and before becoming “Candidate Officers”, the last phase of AOCS where the lunatics are essentially running the asylum we got an entire weekend off. Friday afternoon until Sunday evening.

Part of my class, the younger ones – rented a suite at one of the hotels on Pensacola Beach. They all pitched in, bought vastly too much booze and beer. The rest of us – the “old men”, all 26, 27 years old knew what Sunday evening was going to be: Arriving back in the barracks, stripping off the choker whites (the Ice-Cream man suit) and into PT (physical training) gear, and Daddy Donahue (GunnerySergeantDonahueUnitedStatesMarineCorpNonCommisionedOfficerInChargeOfBattalionTwo!) would want to take us on a seven mile run. Being the smarter of the two groups, we wanted something a little more low key so we wouldn’t be puking for seven miles. We got a room at a smaller hotel at the opposite end of the beach.

I was hanging out with Tim, a big beefy guy from Texas. We spent the day on the beach, and while there had a couple of girls settle in in front of us. Tim was convinced they were showing off for us. Frolicking in the water. Making a big production of applying oil. Stretching and giggling. I thought they were pretty young.

We napped on the beach, and when we woke up, the beach was mostly empty, and the girls were gone.

We went back to the room, cleaned up and went out to eat. Later, back at the room.
Drinking beer and hanging over the railing that overlooked the hotel pool and the beach, we saw them again. By this time the younger crowd had figured out where we were and had shown up, absolutely wild. Tim and me spotted the girls. They had cocktails from the bar downstairs and were wandering around the pool area. Obviously at least 21, because while 18 year olds could drink beer in Pensacola at the time, you had to be 21 to drink liquor.

They made their way to the pool. Stripped off their shorts and t-shirts to reveal their bikinis and started the process of getting into the pool. Behind us a flurry of activity as the young’uns started stripping off their whites and getting into their swimming trunks. Tim looked at me and said “No fucking way”. So we did the same.

Into the pool with about ¾ of class 18-89. And two girls.

The guys ended up lined against the side of the pool. The girls were flirtatious, and there was a lot of banter. At some point Lana started passing in front of each guy, hand over hand along the side of the pool. When she crossed in front of me, I leaned forward and lightly kissed her throat. The soft spot where her neck joined her chest. She stopped, let go of the side of the pool and held onto me.

Tim ended up with the other girl, Terry, and we got them out of the pool and away from the outraged young’uns.

I spent the night with Lana on the beach. I pulled a blanket off one of the hotel room beds and out into the dark we went. We talked and cuddled until the sun came up. We got as close as two people could in the time we had.

I was married. It was the first of many separations for me. X1 had a good job at one of the Las Vegas casinos, was making plenty of money and was quite happy with the Korean expat support system in ‘Vegas. When I left for AOCS, she went (last minute decision by her) to live with my parents. She made her way back to ‘Vegas quickly. We agreed we were done when she told me she was staying in ‘Vegas, and I couldn’t make her move.

I was sad about ending our marriage, but I was far from heartbroken.

Lana’s husband had gotten her best friend (not Terry) pregnant, and best friend was not only having but keeping the baby. She had filed for divorce.

We held on, told each other our stories. Went into the water and sat neck deep holding onto each other. At the time everything was alright in the universe. Our pain was gone for a while.

There’s something sexy about the rain
And sometimes when it’s pouring down
I feel her kisses on my skin
I spread my arms and spin around
And let that summer island storm
Hit me like a hurricane
It’s like she’s right here whispering
There’s something sexy about the rain

The next day, actually later the same day, after cleaning up again and in my choker whites, I saw her one more time. It was Sunday afternoon, and I was going back to NAS and she was on her way back to Tennessee. It was raining. She hugged me, whispered her whole name, the road she lived on and the town. We parted.

I sent a letter through general delivery. I eventually found her phone number through directory assistance. We corresponded through the beginning of the fall of ’89. I was in flight school and living in the BOQ.

Finally she went back to her husband. Mikey convinced me to give X1 another shot. She had figured out being a single mom and working full time wasn’t as easy as she thought it would be and had started asking me to move her and Christopher to Pensacola. I held off as long as I could, then acquiesced.

Lana and I drifted apart, as could be expected in the situation. We had only shared a night.

Years later, on business travel I was in the Memphis airport. Not a big place. I heard a man call out “Lana!”. I watched. It was a family. Man, wife, young teenage kids. It could have been her. She was older. But it could have been her. I wondered about the children. It could have been. Memphis is the gateway to west Tennessee.

In one night she taught me that my life didn’t have to be the loveless thing my marriage was. She raised the bar, and that eventually gave me the courage to divorce X1. A divorce that started amicably and descended into something as bitter as can be imagined.

She gave me back some optimism about what could be.

She followed me back to the city
In a picture in my mind
She’s still young and she’s still pretty
And even after all this time
There’s something sexy about the rain

She taught me how and she’s still why
There’s something sexy about the rain