I had trouble in getting to Battery Street

Those of you with children may know the Dr. Seuss book "I Had Trouble in Getting to Solla Sollew." It's about this poor little dude who was driven out of his happy meadow by nasty little weasel creatures. A chap with a camel tells him about

"The beautiful city of Solla Sollew,
on the banks of the beautiful River Wahoo,
where they never have troubles -- or at least, very few."

So off our hero goes, and of course, the camel gets sick. He tries to catch a bus, but the bus is canceled. A huge storm blows up and he takes refuge in a shack with owls and mice. The shack is washed away by a flood over a cliff ... our hero falls into a hole and pops out in the middle of a war ... and on and on ...

I feel like that poor little guy today. I woke up to pouring ran and howling winds from the tropical storm pounding the Bay Area, with flooding and winds gusting over 70 mph.

But it wasn't the winds that woke me up; it was poor Ron being violently ill from food poisoning. Poor Ron was sent to bed and I quickly got myself and Benny ready, made Benny's lunch and reserved a car. I ran the two blocks through the wind and rain to the parking garage in my Wells Fargo Regatta slicker, trying to dodge the clumps of wet leaves dropping from the spastically jerking trees. I arrived soaked to my knees, wet hair in my face.

I brought the car back, hustled Benny into it and drove through the storm to his preschool. Then I drove back to the garage, dropped off the car and ran for the No. 5 bus that just pulled up across the street. Like the poor Solla Sollew guy, I thought my troubles were over as I stripped off my drenched slicker and took off my shoes.

Alas, no. All the buses were suddenly rerouted to the Transbay terminal and we were kicked off at 4th and Market. I raced across the street again and took the subway downtown.

So now I'm here. In a rare moment of forethought, I had packed dress slacks, shoes and socks in my backpack, so anyone looking at me would never know I almost drowned on my way to work, except for damp hair and a faintly wild look in my eye.

As for the poor little guy trying to get to Solla Sollew? He never did make it to the city. Instead, he got himself a big bat and headed home, yelling:

"Now my troubles will have troubles with me!"

Rock on, dude.