Flight of the Possum.Haven't the foggiest. I recently passed a shop on Elmwood that carried some distinctly impractical umbrellas--flimsy, frilled, definitely not rain-ready. Sunbrellas. Parasols, if you prefer your english uncorrupted. They weren't selling, but I figured their appeal since the Diamond Jubilee and the invention of SPF has been reduced to a small clientelle of badgers and owls. Nocturnals on the lam. Second-shift skunks. Or the odd, thrill-seeking vampire.
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