Here Comes the Sun

April 11th, 2004 Posted in 2004

Okay, I realize this will make me sound like a crotchety old bastard, but why is it whenever we get the first sunny day of Spring, everyone within a twenty foot radius of me wants to have a conversation about it?

It isn’t that I’m not as pleased as anyone about the temperate weather. It’s just that, as a conversational topic, it’s a bit limited. To wit:

Stranger in Elevator: “Wow, beautiful weather out there, huh?”

Me: “Huh? Oh. Yeah. Totally. Really nice weather.”

[awkwardness]

Stranger in Elevator: “I mean, it wasn’t that nice yesterday.”

Me: “No. Not really. Today is much nicer. Great weather.”

Stranger in Elevator: “Yes.” [long pause to consider it] “It is.”

And so on, throughout the day, until even the staunchest supporter of nice weather would be forced to stop caring. Making it worse is that there doesn’t even seem to be any allowable variation in the conversation. For example:

Co-worker: “Beautiful weather out there, isn’t it?”

Me: “Yeah. Maybe we should find an extension cord and go work outside, huh?”

Co-worker: [laughs]

Me: [laughs]

Co-worker: [laughs]

Me: [laughs, looks at watch]

Co-worker: [laughs] “I don’t understand. You want to work outside?”

Me: “I—no, nevermind.”

Co-worker: “Beautiful day though.”

Me: “Indeed. Beautiful.”

Co-worker: “Oh yes.”

Leading to my breaking point around about mid-afternoon, where I’m convinced if I ever have to speak about the weather again I’ll just start blindly punching at anything around me. As the walls start closing in, people take my stumbling around as shock at how great the weather is, and attempt to initiative conversation.

Old Woman: “Lovely weather, isn’t it! I can’t believe it’s the same place!”

Me: “I agree. It’s diabolical. There’s no precedent for this.”

Old Woman: “Well, I just mean it was SO bad the other day, and SO nice tod–”

Me: “Do you suspect Iraq is involved in this in some way?” [asked in such a way that implies: "Because I do."]

Old Woman: “Why, no!” [pause to consider] “Should I?”

Me: “Let me answer that with another question: Was it this nice yesterday?”

Old Woman: “Oh my God…”

Me: “Take my advice. Stock up on bottled water.” [thrashing fist at sun] “It won’t work, you hear me! We KNOW! WE KNOW!”

And so on, until I can get back to my apartment, lock the doors, and unplug the phone. I’d pray for enough rain to wash away the sin of the city, but unfortunately, a change in weather would likely provoke even more banal conversation.

Old Man: “Well, it was nice while it lasted! Ho ho ho!”

Me: “Fuck yes.”

Old Man: “It was so nice out. Beautiful weather. Now it’s not beautiful anymore.”

Me: “Uh huh.” [pause] “You suspect Iraq, of course.”

Old Man: “What?”

Me: “Let me walk with you for a minute. What I have to say may shock and belittle you.”