It's April Fool's Day and the weather is in on the joke in Virginia Beach. Sixty degrees and cloudy interrupting a solidly established Springtime harshed my wardrobe--but a coat later and in the car, I got back at it. (The weather for conceptually having aggressed me, I mean.)
In a Spotify playlist I hurriedly thumb through comes into view Missy Elliot, and before I even read the song title, I hear Supa Dupa fly, I'm Supa Dupa fly I I can't stand the rain.
Missy Elliot hails from Portsmouth, where I went to community art college for a year and a half--the town over from Norfolk, which is the downtown essentially of the entire Southern Hampton Roads unless you're an old person or social recluse living in Virginia Beach. She was the first hip-hop emcee I ever learned about, thanks to my other gay black friend caring a lot about her and Aaliyah. I never got exposed to more than the singles, but those and their creative videos had a massive impact on my taste and style, and I still know all the words to Get Ya Freak On and Work It. I was six years old when The Rain dropped in ‘97 and missed it's hype cycle, only catching up through radio rerunning over the years--but as soon as that fat bass kicked in under that cloudy April Virginia sky, I put the windows down and just soaked in it.
Can't shake the rain, after all.