7 January 2009
A text from my uber-cynical mate Kev, received this morning, gloriously parodying the reaction we get from our bored media when a spot of white stuff drops from the sky:
"I think ... Yes ... It's actually true. It's, it's SNOWING! Quick! Close all the schools! Put your brakes on! Quick everybody - set off at the same time just in case! Cancel the trains! Close the roads! It's actually SNOWING! Let's close the country down!! Snow has fallen: Britain - CLOSED."
Snow itself, and the arrival thereof, is not news until it prompts a major road accident (although minor ones like mine last year are not newsworthy unless you have a blog). What's more newsworthy is our patent inability to deal with it, handle it and adapt to it. The stuff also seems to become more newsworthy if it happens to fall somewhere in the south of England, whereas - anyone got some vinegar for this chip on my shoulder? - here in the north it's cold and horrible and unsettled and gruesome all the time anyway, and therefore snow should be regarded as entirely normal.
I loathe snow beyond words. It's cold, useless, disruptive and dangerous. We really shouldn't give it this much publicity or it'll start wanting to fall more often.