The Nubrella ... A 'Nu' idea
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PG reporter Ann Belser demonstrates, from left, wearing, lifting and carrying the Nubrella.
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A rainy Memorial Day has to be good for something, and this year I tested one of the newest umbrellas on the market -- or more precisely, the Nubrella.
The Nubrella ($49.99) looks like a football helmet mated with one of those old bubble umbrellas. It has clear vinyl in the front and cloth on the back, sewn on to a frame of arches that are connected to a shoulder harness. The harness sits on your shoulders with straps that can be brought around under your arms so it is completely hands-free (or mostly, we will get that to that in a minute).
I didn't make it a block from my home before I got stopped by Christy Allen of Kutztown, Lebanon County, who, despite the rain, hit the brakes on her bicycle and waited until I got closer so she could ask a question that became very familiar with the Nubrella:
"What is that?"
I explained the concept, showing her the straps and the shoulder harness, but I found myself lifting the Nubrella up over my head to talk to avoid the terrible echo created by the dome. It also blocked the sound of my voice and got really hot under there. I felt like The Chief whenever Maxwell Smart wanted to use the Cone of Silence.
"It looks like you could take off," she said.
The Nubrella is the most ironic of umbrellas. It is the perfect umbrella for the introverted because not only can you not speak to anyone from the Nubrella, you can't share it with your grandmother, either.
"Oh my God, you look like a Volkswagon in that thing," was just one of the comments my brother offered when I e-mailed him the Web site, Nubrella.com.
Alan Kaufman invented the Nubrella on a cold rainy day in Manhattan in December 2002. He was standing in his store window looking out on Fifth Avenue when he saw how people were struggling with their umbrellas.
"Out of nowhere this vision appeared in my mind," he said. He rushed over to his desk and drew what has now become the Nubrella.
When I was out on my walk in the rain, several people wanted to try out the Nubrella. While it worked well for me as a hands-free umbrella, Stan Zin of Squirrel Hill, who is larger, got wet when he tried it and christened it the "Dumberella."
"Do you have a golf Dum-brella?" he inquired.
The thing weighs more than 2 pounds and comes with a sleeve that has a shoulder strap to carry it. This is nothing you would want to take onto a crowded bus because the handle is an awkward protrusion that was the foil for more jokes, none of them printable.
Another problem I found with the Nubrella was that it blocked the bottom of my line of vision, so I found myself tripping over little cracks in the sidewalk I normally would have missed. The rain dribbling down the front of the dome was not good for vision, either.
It did keep me dry, however, and I was even able to take notes during conversations, which would have made it great for my former job as a police reporter. (Except that if I showed up at a crime scene wearing it, the cops couldn't get their work done because they'd be laughing too hard.)
Actually, the Nubrella is not supposed to replace the umbrella, Mr. Kaufman emphasized. It's just another way for people to keep dry, particularly in the fall, winter and early spring when it's really cold and the wind can whip an umbrella from your hands.
For now, the Nubrella, whose company is based in Boca Raton, Fla., is available in one size. Mr. Kaufman soon plans to make a larger version and one for children.
As much as I liked the novelty of the Nubrella, I'm not ready to give up my reliable standby. It's made with a rainbow of colors, unfurls to measure 3 feet across and folds up to just 9 1/2 inches long to fit easily in my work bag.
It was a gift that was purchased about six years ago from the Modern Museum of Art store (MoMA.com). It's the color spectrum collapsible umbrella and sells for $24. My umbrella has neither inverted in the wind, nor is it bulky.
In the years I have owned it, it has only been the source of compliments, never punch lines.
First Published June 9, 2008 12:00 am
