From the title, you’re probably thinking, “wow, he’s really reaching for content now—he’s literally writing a post about the weather.” Well, yes, it’s a bit of a stretch for a blog post, but while enjoying the absolutely glorious weather this past weekend, I began contemplating the topic. It’s perhaps not quite as trite as we think.
Weather as a topic has a reputation for being the bare minimum of polite social discourse: it’s what you discuss when you have nothing else to say, but saying nothing is too awkward to be viable. That reputation is largely accurate, to be fair: that’s what I talk about when I feel like I must say something to be polite, but there’s zero connection with the other person.
That said, discussing the weather takes on a different meaning when you live in a place like South Carolina. It’s like talking about water if you live on Arrakis, the planet from Frank Herbert’s Dune. Good weather is such a treat—such a reprieve from summer’s unbearable humidity—that it’s a major topic of conversation. Because there’s no guarantee that cool weather will stay, discussing it takes on a new import: how long do we have to enjoy the current lower temperatures and dryer air?
On a particularly sunny Sunday—especially after a long stretch of rain—I’ll play the old hymn “Heavenly Sunlight” (Number 129 in the Free Will Baptist Hymnal) for Sunday morning service. If I’m feeling particularly cheeky, I’ll play it as an instrumental prelude on a rainy or overcast today (of course, I’ve also snuck in snippets of the keyboard solo from Van Halen’s “Jump,” so an incongruous hymn choice is probably the least of my Sunday morning playfulness).
For a long time, weather was the last thing that people could talk about that didn’t devolve into a friendship- or marriage-ending discussion about politics. Sadly, the tentacles of Leftist dogma have reached into this once-benign topic, too. When was the last time a big storm blew through your area, or a hurricane or the like hit, and some colleague or co-worker smugly intoned that such severe weather is a sign of “climate change“? Even a heat wave—very common here in the South, and in much of the country—is attributed to the mystical whims of Mother Gaia, taking her mercurial revenge on humanity for continuing to use the internal combustion engine.
In that regard, a benign—even a casually empty—conversation about the weather is, like most other forms of polite discourse, now risks hyper-politicization.
The net effect: no one ever wants to talk about anything.
Anyway, nice weather we’ve been having, no?
Crikey, Tyler, you’re turning English! :-_
We still talk about the weather. We complain when it’s too hot and whine when it’s too cold. It’s one of those topics that never goes out of date.
I was thinking last night about why you called your dog Murphy. Every time I think of the name, I think of the character in Robocop who had his arms and head blown off before he was made into the revenge seeking android. Don’t for a second think that I wish that for your dog but a robopooch would be pretty cool! 🙂 🙂 🙂
Quite 39. Yesterday lashing down with rain all day – in Somerset at least – and I had the lights on all day because of the accompanying gloom and today glorious sunshine although feeling pretty cool. Glad it is fine and dry today so that I can have the kitchen window open as I am steaming Christmas puddings and don’t have an extracter fan. Anyway, I digress. The weather is an endless source of interest to us Brits as you know and I find it a thoroughly enjoyable topic of conversation with acquaintances one runs into in the supermarket and also still pretty safe in these contentious times when a misplaced remark about Covid, Brexit etc can end up with participants with red shouty faces.
Sounds like a wonderful day today, Alys, after the gloom of the rainy day. I could go for a good, quiet, rainy day in my neck of the woods.
It was supposed to be bucketing down this morning but it was nice and sunny albeit a little breezy. Handy seeing as we had to walk around while we were waiting for the car to be fixed.
We’ll be getting rain soon and with the days darkening and the clocks going back, that’ll make for some cool night time drives. I’m hoping for a night like that when we do the CW Christmas pub meet.
Today is the hottest it’s been in a week. Naturally, it’s the day my High School Music Ensemble students and I had to drag amplifiers and heavy instruments out to the football pressbox, to be stored for the Friday morning pep rally. Why couldn’t it have been sixty degrees (Fahrenheit) today?!
If Murphy were a cool Robocop dog, I don’t think I’d object. That said, I like her the way she is.
It sounds like Englishmen and Southerners have much in common. I mean, we are basically the descendants of the Cavaliers.
Sentient is so much better. Then again, Robocop became sort of sentient. Maybe a Robopooch could be the same. He won’t chase sticks, he’ll short circuit when he pees against posts and gets splash backs and he’ll remember what another dog’s backside his for! 🙂
As the Police Commissioner for Lamar (seriously, that’s my title—ha!), I’d like to have Murphy made an honorary police dog. She’s got the nose for it, but little else. Still, she’d look cute with a little policeman’s cap and a vest riding in a parade.
Careful, Ponty’s way out there in the Eastern Association – north of Norwich. That ain’t exactly Cavalier country, and never was, the main Parliamentary stronghold in fact. More in common with us Yankees, course you’re pretty reconstructed by now. Besides, you’uns came from the disinherited second sons of the nobility. And yeah, we talk about the weather a lot too, I think it comes from being close to the land, and the traffic jams of semis leading to the elevators this week prove that.
Ah, yes, I remember now that Ponty was from Puritan country(ish), the dastard.
As far as I know, my ancestors are mountain folk (Appalachian) and mill people (saw and cotton). The hills and the swamps. Other than Napoleon’s physician—apparently a distant relation—we Cooks are likely of Scotch-Irish descent, with a lot of English mixed in (we’re Cooks, after all).
Those folk were somewhat mixed between town and country, even then, and in the Revolution too. So you could come down on either side.
So I’m a half-breed, eh?
Nah, the difference seemed to be originally the difference between living on commerce or a (basically) subsistence farm.
BTW Thomas Fleming in “The Cousin’s Wars” goes into this quite a bit.
I’ll check it out. I’m growing increasingly interested in these early roots of America, and I don’t have time to read _Albion’s Seed_, haha.
A long read, but in the main, a good one.
I had a very dear English friend, Les (may he rest in peace), who told me the English LOVE to talk about the weather. It’s probably because they have so much of it, lol. No one in Florida discusses the weather. We have only to look at one another – if clothes are soaking wet, it’s summer; if clothes have either sleeves or pants that rest at the ankle, it’s winter.
The reason even the weather reports on tv get excited about hurricanes is it gives us something to talk about. Weather-wise.
Ah, Rapscallion. He’s still missed on TCW. Tina and I still raise a glass of rum at new year to his memory.
We miss the Raps and Birt show and now we don’t have either of them. Birt disappeared not long after Raps and we’ve seen neither hide nor hair of him.
I miss Rap, too. At one point, he checked his computer and we had sent 6500 emails to each other in one month. I miss him.
I didn’t know him, but he sounds like he was a wonderful person.
Oh Birtie is still about 39 albeit, like myself, not on TCW. I still look in most days but the endless Brexit stuff followed by endless Covid stuff conspired to make me lose the will to live.
I’ve gotten the same way, Alys—just too much depressing news. That’s what I’m writing about the weather and movies and such.
What’s it like living in a place with no seasons?
We actually have two seasons – the green one and the brown one.
HA! It feels like that in South Carolina, too.
6500?! Crikey, it’d have been easier to get Skype! 🙂
I imagine you still check out your conversations when you think of him. You’ll always have that.
Laughing; the emails were in addition to skype, lol. Golly he loved to talk! And I enjoyed the accent. We had one conversation that was literally four hours long. I think I said the occasional yes or no … but he wasn’t boring and great fun to listen to.
How old was he when he went? Early 60’s if I recall. That’s no age. He should still be with us.
He’d just had his 63rd birthday.
He wasn’t in good health; smoked like a chimney, drank more than was good for him – or anyone! – big ‘full English’ on the mornings he was healing up … swelling in feet and knees … perfect prescription for an early demise, I’m afraid. The reason he contacted me off TCW was so if he died, I’d be able to tell the readership.
Yikes! That is young. My dad just turned 66. I cannot imagine anything happening to him, but I hear frequently about people younger passing on.
Sounds like me, Audre. If I reach 50, I’ll celebrate with a full English! 🙂 🙂 🙂
I feel like this blog is a full English—or, at least, full of English!
I’ll take Alys as honorary English! 🙂 🙂 🙂
I’m surprised there aren’t more Americans on here. Like DA’s site, there seems to be a decent readership but not many commenters.
Yeah, that’s how it goes—a decent number of readers, but not many active commenters; that is, until you lot showed up. I should have written a glowing article about Audre way sooner!
One request: if you’re using an ad blocker, turn it off, so I can get a little extra ad revenue. *Wink!*
They are my kind of people. I always thought so and then I met them thru TCW and they have confirmed everything I ever thought about the English – they are fine, solid, folk; they are naturally funny, incredibly smart, very industrious; they are kind, gentle, but don’t get their backs up, lol! they can be scathing, lol! But I love my English; they are indeed my family as just as important to me.
You may want to ask ‘the cousins’ what a full English is.
I imagine a “full English” is some kind of drink—or appearing live fully in the nude. Wait, isn’t that the Full Monty?
I agree—our English commenters here, at least, certainly fit that bill. The blog has benefited greatly from their contributions.
Oh, so you think you can take on a Full English then Tyler? The very thought of eating a whole one makes me feel queasy. As 39 says I am honorary English being Welsh but I can handle having a foot in both camps so to speak.
Don’t underestimate the American appetite, Alys. I can handle it.
Bacon, eggs (fried and scrambled), sausages, mushrooms, beans, and fried bread. There are some that go nuts with it though.
At a place a dozen steps from my front door, when I was studying in Bangor, they did a full English (though I’d describe it as a full Welsh) that added hash browns and chips to it. Chips! No, no, no, no, NO! Sacrilege! That said, if you could get through it, you’d get your picture on the wall and a mug to boot! I never completed the challenge though I gave it a blooming good go! 🙂 🙂 🙂
Oooooh! That’s a Full English. That sounds incredible. My kind of breakfast!
Eggs are my breakfast for Saturday and Sunday mornings, usually mixed up with a bit of whatever is leftover (this past weekend it was with some rice, then I mixed in salsa and some other seasonings—a nice little Mexican breakfast). The Full English is what I will aspire to in retirement.
As an aside, I’ve just joined the dark side. I joined Twitter.
OH NO!!!! Oh, my word! Why would you do that?????????????????????
I had to.
Twitter have a new block on links so if you need to pull one, for an article say, you can’t unless you’re on it. The last time I wrote an article where I needed a Twitter link, it worked fine but this time, I had to start an account so I could pull an interview off it for an article, which I sent over an hour ago.
I’ll never use it for posting but will keep it in case I need a link.
You be very, very careful!!!
Yes, Ponty. Just send me the last four of your Social Security Number, not the people on Twitter. You can trust me.
What is the British equivalent of the SSN? I’m sure y’all have some Orwellian, but oddly regal, name for it.
Dang. Seems like the Internet is growing more restrictive in a thousand tiny little ways all the time.
Pikers, Ponty. Before Jess got cancer the first time in ’14, in the three years before we were at about 200,000.
How’d I manage to do that, it was supposed to be in the email section. I’ve been on Twitter for years, not that I ever do anything but announce NEO articles. In truth, Professor Charmley talked me into it, although I did have one nice chat with Suzy Lipscomb and a not so nice one with Sarah Churchwell.
Dang, Neo, I’ve gotsta look you up on Twitter, too. Mine (@tjcookmusic, I think), is used for the same purpose as yours: posting stuff from the blog as it goes live.
I just followed you, should make it a little easier.
I know you’re on Twitter just as I know that Tyler is. I think after seeing the sort of stuff Laura (Perrins) put on Twitter, I was sort of interested to know what other site users posted.
I like what Laura does there, I just don’t have the time or, in fact, the inclination.
Mwahahahahahahaha! What’s your Twitter handle? I think I am on there as @tjcookmusic. Look me up, dude.
@roygbiv39
But I’ll never use it.
Yeah. Still, it’ll be nice to know you’re there. : D <3
Crikey. Either brave or reckless.
Sometimes both are required for greatness—like me when I eat a Full English breakfast in one sitting.
‘You be very, very careful!!!’
What do you think I’ll do? Go on there and insult all the hypocritical celebs? I can use my articles for that! 🙂
You know you. You know your temper. You be careful.
Port – 39 gave you the list of what a full English consists of. Read it and weep.
Yes, I respond to these comments bottom to top, and saw it after I posted my remark. It sounds incredible.
Looking forward to Ponty and Tina preparing one for me when I come to England.
It’ll be Tina preparing it. She’s the best cook I’ve ever known and that’s not biased. There’s nothing I’ve had in other places that Tina hasn’t cooked better.
Good to know. Tell her I take my eggs over medium.