I hate talking about the weather. And that’s a problem, because where I live, what’s happening in the atmosphere tends to form the basis for most conversation. The temperature, the lack of rainfall, the blueness of the sky, the level of frost in the ground — it’s incessant, and for me, somewhat bewildering. For one thing, I never know what the correct response is. But I keep trying:
“Yes, it sure is warm.”
“We do need the rain. I agree.”
“It’s the bluest sky I’ve ever seen!”
“There’s too much frost? Oh, there’s not enough! Really?”
Most people here seem to use weather-related observations to display their cheeriness and positive outlook. If the sun is shining, they’ll say, “Beautiful day!” somehow managing to overlook that it’s thirty below, with a wind chill of minus forty-five. If we get two feet of snow, they’ll talk about how much worse that storm was back in ’87, when the kids had to duck under the telephone wires as they were pulled to school on toboggans. And in the middle of the most scorching summer, they’re back to “It’s a beautiful day,” despite the fact that everyone’s car is melting and all of the trees are dead.
As I said, I hate talking about the weather. But it’s the end of April, and it’s still cold.
My mind is forgetful, and in a stubborn way, so that every year I’m taken by surprise when each day of spring isn’t just a little bit warmer than the day before. Because that’s how I perceive reality, and no matter how many times the truth reveals itself to me, I wipe the slate clean and revert to my delusions. The Earth orbits the sun. Science seems pretty sure about this. And because the planet is tilted, March 21st begins the season in which the Northern Hemisphere tips more and more toward the sun’s direct rays. It should logically follow, then, that things gradually heat up from one day to the next, just as the amount of daylight increases at a predictable rate, and the Moon waxes and wanes steadily from night to night.
But this is not what happens. The month of March, according to the old saying, comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb. Well, maybe. Then April arrives, neither lion nor lamb, but like some confused forest creature whose habitat has been taken over by condominiums. It wanders around, unsure where to find its next meal, luring tulips and daffodils out of the frost-free soil with warm afternoons, then freeze-drying their delicate leaves in a sudden and unannounced return to sub-zero temperatures. Somehow, it’s colder now than it was almost three months ago, when the groundhog forecast six more weeks of winter.
Where, then, is the flaw in the reasoning? I’ll tell you, not because I think you need to be enlightened, but because I do. Change doesn’t occur in smooth and equally-spaced increments. It lurches forward and back, producing a general trend, but one that includes tiny reversals too numerous to count. I noticed this phenomenon a few years ago, at the beach. The sea swells and shrinks in an endless rhythmic cycle. And while it’s true that precise times for high and low tides can be easily found in nautical charts, what happens in between those extremes is a chaotic clashing of motion. If you sit at the shore and scratch a line in the sand, the water may approach that line, coming within twenty inches before withdrawing. The next wave may come within eighteen inches of the line. You might assume that the one after that will close the gap to about fifteen inches, but no, it gets no closer than twenty-five. Is the tide coming in or going out? The next wave may go right past the line, causing you to think the tide is coming in, after all, and really fast. But the follow-up wave may again retreat to within no more than two feet of the mark. Eventually, of course, the line in the sand will disappear, covered by the ocean’s relentless approach. But at any given moment, there’s no telling how far a single wave will reach.
Change is like that. This is a simple fact that I can’t seem to remember. Maybe it’s an unconscious need I have for harmony and order. In my mind, all roads are either parallel or perpendicular, which explains why I often get lost just going around the block. All shopping malls are rectangles to me, regardless of how many sides they have or how oddly-shaped. This is why I’ll walk past the food court twelve times from nine different directions, and why, by the time I find that clothing store I was looking for, it’s gone out of business. If a movie has too many flashbacks, I can actually feel my brain jerking around inside my skull.
Heavy traffic on the highway behaves in ways similar to the tides. It builds to a standstill, but then gradually starts to thin out, and disappears. Back up to the speed limit, we just as suddenly find ourselves slowing down, and again we’re sitting still for minutes at a time, for no apparent reason.
Recuperation from illness is the same process. If I’m sick for a while and then begin to feel better, I believe I’ll keep getting healthier, and will recover completely by tomorrow. But no. Within an hour the room has resumed its spinning, tonight I feel good enough to eat dinner, and in the morning I’m back in bed, soaked in a cold sweat. And surprised. Always surprised. “I was okay there for a while,” I’ll think, misled once more by my insistence that change must be steady and predictable. In more dire examples, we’ve all suffered along with loved ones who have gone into the hospital with a fatal illness; they take us with them on an emotional ride filled with steep drops, sporadic improvements, bursts of hope, and the inevitable decline.
The pattern has repeated itself throughout my life. Ignoring all evidence to the contrary, I expect personal relationships to continually strengthen and grow. I imagine professional connections will only multiply and endure. I wonder why something I understood yesterday has already been forgotten. In fact, I’ve learned this lesson about the nature of change more times than I care to admit. Occasional reminders would be useful, I suppose. It would surely help if I could go to the beach, draw a line in the sand, and watch the waves as they tease, overwhelm, and recede again. And I’ll do that soon. But it’s too cold today. It’s April, and it’s still cold.
I hate talking about the weather.
Missjlouise
April 24, 2012
This has really helped me …. Thankyou
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bronxboy55
April 24, 2012
You don’t come here expecting help from me, Miss J. Please tell me you don’t.
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Wandering Voiceless
April 24, 2012
“If a movie has too many flashbacks, I can actually feel my brain jerking around inside my skull.” — I’m pretty sure my husband feels the same way. What was the name of that movie that was done in reverse time? I can’t remember (something else we have in common; I liken mine to the ever eroding banks of a river), but it was all one overlapping flashback. We hated it. Loved the graphics, too. Very nice. :>
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bronxboy55
April 24, 2012
I saw a movie once that was riddled with flashbacks (and I also can’t remember the name of it). But it was about three or four couples, and in the flashbacks, the younger versions of the couples were all played by actors who looked nothing like the older ones, so I was constantly trying to figure out who was who. I wanted to walk out in the middle of the movie, but I was at the drive-in.
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Allan Douglas
April 24, 2012
“…an unconscious need I have for harmony and order.” – I TOTALLY relate to that. It’s probably why we’ve chucked cable TV, fired the telephone company and moved to live on the side of a mountain. We have not found harmony and order, but at least we’ve reduced the amount of chaos that forces itself into our lives. Especially me. Marie has a regular job in town. She has to deal with people daily. I don’t see people (other than my wife and my mother) except on Sunday when we all go to church. Just me an th’ dogs most of the time.
Weather forecasters still amaze me: it’s the only job on the planet (except maybe for politician) where you can be totally wrong 85% of the time and still get paid.
Unfortunately I’m one of those really annoying types you talk about; I’ll try to find something pleasant about the weather or politics or the latest natural disaster that those rarely seen human beings will choose to discuss. And it annoys me that they will almost always find the most negative aspect of anything. It can be a beautiful day and they will gripe about it being too sunny. OK, so the asphalt has liquified, but at least we don’t need that parka any more! We got 3 tenths of an inch of rain – the North East got two inches of snow, what are you griping about? I probably annoy them as much as they do me. And it just makes us all that much happier that I so rarely get into town.
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bronxboy55
April 25, 2012
I agree with you about the weather forecasters, Allan. Not only are they wrong a lot, but they never seem to acknowledge it. They just move on ahead with the next prediction, as though their track record is beyond question. About my own attitude toward the weather, I can usually find something to appreciate; I just don’t want to express it a hundred times a day. There are too many more interesting things to talk about. Aren’t there?
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Sybil
April 24, 2012
and the “seventh wave” really confuses things … the waves come in in a pretty consistent fashion. You get a bit cocky thinking you understand the pattern. Next thing you know, your boots are full of frigid water. The third time it happens you realize it’s time to go back to the car and pour the water out. Life’s sorta like that …
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bronxboy55
April 25, 2012
At a provincial park just last week, I watched the waves for at least five minutes and couldn’t figure out whether the tide was coming in or going out. You’re right: life is like that. We think we know what’s happening, but usually we don’t. And sometimes we have no idea.
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She's a Maineiac
April 24, 2012
Wow, another brilliant post, Charles, that really makes me think.
Loved how you connected change to the waves on a beach. The ebb and flow of things. How it’s inevitable, yet sometimes so minor you don’t notice it at first. All these tiny changes build and build then you turn around and wonder how things transformed. I wonder, how did I get to this point? Other times BAM! you get hit with a huge wave that knocks you off your feet and you’re forced to acknowledge change and fast.
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bronxboy55
April 25, 2012
As I read your comment, I found myself replaying several of your posts in my mind, especially the ones about your kids, and your father.
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Barbara Rodgers
April 24, 2012
Loved this essay! You’re so right about change – it all seems so random and it’s difficult sometimes to determine the trend in progress. Your illustration about the tide reminds me of the discussions we used to have every time we got to the beach for swimming lessons when the kids were small. Since high and low tides are at different times every day one would always insist that the tide was going out and another would say no, it must be coming in, but each little wave would “prove” one assertion or the other. Then they learned to read the tide times on the blackboard at the first aid station and that was the end of all that…
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bronxboy55
April 25, 2012
But it’s still interesting, isn’t it, that you can’t tell just by looking at a few waves? That must be why people are always getting stranded by high tides — a rock or a stretch of beach can become an island while you’re not paying attention. Thanks for the comment, Barbara.
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artchickfoto
April 24, 2012
“My mind is forgetful, and in a stubborn way, so that every year I’m taken by surprise when each day of spring isn’t just a little bit warmer than the day before. Because that’s how I perceive reality, and no matter how many times the truth reveals itself to me, I wipe the slate clean and revert to my delusions. ” ♥ ❤♥ ❤♥ ❤♥ ❤♥ ❤
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bronxboy55
April 25, 2012
It’s great to hear from you, Kristine. How have you been? Busy, I hope.
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Mal
April 24, 2012
No worries…summer’s just around the corner! It won’t be cold then.. 🙂
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bronxboy55
April 24, 2012
Sometimes that corner can seem pretty big, depending on where you happen to be standing.
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charlywalker
April 24, 2012
So…How’s the weather up there????
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bronxboy55
April 24, 2012
Apparently it’s better than where you are. Just cloudy, but a little warmer today. Maybe winter is finally over. (I’ll regret that.)
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patricemj
April 24, 2012
Sweet. Sounds like you’re talking about the weather of our lives.
I don’t mind talking about the weather so much, each person’s relationship to the atmosphere all around them is intriguing to me in some way. But the “talk about the weather” that means “we’re not talking about anything else but the weather” can be a little smothering.
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bronxboy55
April 26, 2012
Sometimes I wonder if I’m the only one bothered by this, Patrice. One day I was standing in line at the supermarket with four or five people ahead of me, and I could hear the cashier and the other customers exchanging the mandatory comments about the weather. When it was my turn to pay, I asked the cashier if she ever got tired of having to say the same thing over and over to so many people. She looked at me with a confused face and said, “What do you mean?”
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patricemj
April 26, 2012
I wish I could have witnessed that exchange.
You’re probably not the only person to be annoyed by the superficiality living in a diverse society seems to require. I go through waves of wishing I could know people better, share more meaningfully, to feeling like talk about the weather is a kind of mercy.
Cashiers are interesting people. They deal with so much repetition, and this overlaid in with a constant stream of the random public. I’ve noticed they all seem to take on their own unique style. We have the chatty cashier (jim avoids her for the most part, but then he will surprise me because he’ll have a decent exchange with her and feel grateful for her endless stream of commentary tailored, so it seems, for each customer). We have the “I’m not here and so I cannot see you” cashiers and the “I’m here and I see you, but we don’t really have to talk” cashiers.
Small talk is an interesting subject, I think. Over the years I’ve grown to like it more and more. Then again, I tend to place little faith in words 😉
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Michelle Gillies
April 24, 2012
Your analogies are perfect! I have often thought about this and as far as I get is “one step forward, two steps back”. I know. Profound! Both my husband and I can’t watch that new program “The Firm” because it is all based on flashbacks and we get a headache. Thanks for this.
M
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bronxboy55
April 26, 2012
“One Step Forward” was the original title of this post, Michelle.
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gleaningthenuggets
April 24, 2012
Ok, this is bordering on brilliant and exactly what I needed to hear today. LOL, someone told me my book should be reformatted with a bunch of flashbacks but I can’t do it. I can’t stand reading (most) flashback books, I get all confused…where am I now? who is this person again? Can’t they just write the story the way it happened?! Very wonderful post 🙂
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bronxboy55
April 26, 2012
Are you writing a novel or a memoir, or something else? Your photography is amazing. Thanks for the comment, Niki.
http://gleaningthenuggets.com/
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gleaningthenuggets
April 26, 2012
My book is my memoirs written in novel format (because who am I that someone would want to read my autobiography? 🙂 I’m so glad you enjoyed my photos, thank you very much!
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Diane Henders
April 24, 2012
I’m with you on the whole health thing. I’m always quite put out when I don’t see linear progress. I thought it was just my geek brain – thanks to you, I feel better now!
P.S. I loved your book, “Who Knew” – I just gave it 5 stars on Amazon http://www.amazon.ca/review/R1ZAAB4HHET2TI/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_asr_JIgZD.1YV73DT. 🙂
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bronxboy55
April 26, 2012
As the Queen of Flow Charts, you’re way beyond linear, Diane. I’m glad you feel better. And thank you for the kind review, and for your constant encouragement. I have one of your books, Tell Me No Spies, on my Kindle.
http://www.dianehenders.com/buy-books.html
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Diane Henders
April 26, 2012
Thanks, Charles! That’s the fourth book in the series, so you’ll have to infer some of the backstory, but I wrote all the books to stand alone if necessary. Like a parent, I shouldn’t admit to having favourites, but *whispers* Tell Me No Spies is kinda… my favourite… 🙂
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gleaningthenuggets
April 26, 2012
Diane, so glad you shared your P.S., I will definitely be buying the book!
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Carl D'Agostino
April 24, 2012
Miami weather June – Sept like Bataan Death March.
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bronxboy55
April 26, 2012
Thanks for the warning, Carl. I think I’ll stay where I am, at least in the summer.
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buckwheatsrisk
April 24, 2012
i’m with you, i wish things were predictable and always forget, they are not, it’s hot here today, but cold where i’m moving in three days…
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bronxboy55
April 29, 2012
I hope the move went well. Thanks for the comment.
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Arindam
April 24, 2012
“All shopping malls are rectangles to me, regardless of how many sides they have or how oddly-shaped.”- this is what I also believe. I also love the way you connected heavy traffics to the tide, Hats off to your imagination level. I also hate to talk about the weather. It’s quite hot here with no rain. But let me tell you how I look at it- For me, It’s just one month and few more days left, to grow one year older. But for others it’s nothing but the summer. 🙂
This is an excellent post Sir Charles.
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bronxboy55
April 29, 2012
For many people, it rains so much that they spend their days just wishing for sunshine. Meanwhile, in some other part of the world, the sun blazes for weeks or months, and when it finally rains everyone celebrates. I’ve heard from people who wish for snow and cold temperatures, and I can’t wait for winter to end. I sometimes wonder if there’s a place where the weather is so perfect that no one talks about it.
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Almudena
April 24, 2012
great writing – every time. this post is exactly why change just doesn’t work for me. i have a tight grip on predictability and get the twitches any time i’m forced to loosen it. oh yes, i’m a ball of fun.
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bronxboy55
April 29, 2012
It’s a tough way to live, though, isn’t it? Life is anything but predictable.
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mirroredImages
April 24, 2012
so i think the whole weather conundrum is only a conundrum in places where the weather changes. your problem, therefore, isn’t your lack of social graces or your inability to recall the inconstancy of change; it’s the fact that you live where you live, where there are seasons, and where the people who live there like to talk about those seasons.
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bronxboy55
April 29, 2012
Thank you, Julia, for consistently ignoring my faulty memory and lack of social graces. But now you’re going to be enjoying beautiful weather twelve months a year, and for an eloquent crab like you, that’s likely to become a conundrum in itself. Don’t you think?
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icedteawithlemon
April 24, 2012
I don’t like change, either; I have that same “unconscious need” for “harmony and order,” which makes me a control freak–in fact, if there were a Control Freaks Anonymous chapter in my area, I would be the one all the other members could talk about after the meetings and console themselves with the knowledge that “Well, at least we’re not as bad as she is!” But since there is no such help available, I have been trying (with very limited success) to address this addiction on my own–to occasionally “let go” of the need to grasp the reins, to accept imperfection and chaos, and to embrace the ensuing change. It has’t been easy; sometimes it has been painful, even, but every once in a while the resulting changes have been refreshing and enlightening and fun (but shhhh!).
And I probably shouldn’t tell you that it’s 78 degrees here today with a forecast of 90 degrees tomorrow … 🙂
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bronxboy55
April 29, 2012
I wonder if your need for control has a lot to do with your chosen career, and if that’s all about to change. I’m sure your readers will soon find out. Thank you, Karen, for your ongoing support, and for not mentioning the warm weather.
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Coyotemoonwatch
April 24, 2012
Brilliant observations once again. Yep, down here in Costa Rica I hear the Northeast is getting slammed; could that have had anything to do with you feeling compelled to write this!
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bronxboy55
April 30, 2012
The custom whenever a winter storm hits the US in the spring is to blame it on a blast of Arctic air coming down from Canada. The problem with living in Canada is you have no one else to blame for the weather.
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O. Leonard
April 24, 2012
“Wandering Voiceless,” I think the movie was “Momento.” It was so confusing, but somehow I thought it was an excellent script idea.
Charles, thanks for explaining the weather. I’ve also wondered for so long why the temperature doesn’t steadily increase as the earth tilts and moves closer to the sun. Or is that what you said? And who cares? Here’s one I would like explained. Why is it during the week, while I’m inside working at a job, the weather outside is gorgeous, but come Saturday morning, every weekend, the weather sucks?
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bronxboy55
April 30, 2012
Try this: Go to work on Saturday and Sunday, and stay home on Mondays and Tuesdays. The weather will still be bad on your days off, but think how happy everyone else will be. I have the same experience whenever I go camping — chance of rain is one hundred percent.
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Dawn Whitehand
April 24, 2012
sounds like a good explanation of Chaos Theory to me…. order in chaos, patterns, rhythms, Implicate Order…
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bronxboy55
April 30, 2012
I haven’t heard the term Implicate Order in decades. In fact, I had to go look it up, and found that I still don’t know what it means.
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Dawn Whitehand
April 30, 2012
yeah I know what you mean… or don’t mean… 🙂
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Stacie Chadwick
April 25, 2012
How do you do all that you do so well? I’ll take whatever you’re having and double it please.
=)
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bronxboy55
April 30, 2012
You don’t need anything from me, Stacie. An occasional trip to Varnville seems to be more than enough inspiration:
http://geminigirlinarandomworld.com/2012/04/26/my-new-dog-is-gone/
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bumindonesia
April 25, 2012
Pity that you all are in sub-tropical season. different from us in the tropics there are only two seasons, drought and rainy. Look at your http:/www.bumindonesia.wordpress.com would love to see it.
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bronxboy55
April 30, 2012
We also seem to have only two seasons: cold and hot.
I enjoyed visiting your blog, especially the photographs.
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Betty Londergan
April 25, 2012
I too am continuously surprised when things don’t take a linear progression, Charles — do you think it has to do with our Catholic upbringing?? Everything in those lessons was so black & white, I think it gave me the very mistaken impression that life could be expected to move in very rational, predictable patterns (you commit a sin, blammo! mortal blot on your soul… you go to confession, say your penance…and bingo! you’re forgiven). Unfortunately, life is SO not like that. For instance, I have this cockamamie idea that things are always going to get better — which has made aging (when, let’s be honest: nothing is getting better) quite a hideous brush with reality for me. But look at it this way: we’ll always be amazed by the weather!!
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bronxboy55
April 30, 2012
Betty, I have the same crazy idea that things are always going to get better, combined with the flawless ability to notice when they don’t (which is most of the time). I used to attribute this fact to my Catholic upbringing, but now I wonder if it was the personalities we were born with that allowed the upbringing to stick with us more than it did with others. I’d research the theory, but it might involve going to a grammar school reunion. Now there’s a hideous brush with reality.
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Priya
April 26, 2012
I needed this today. Well, I needed this yesterday, too. (If only I’d read it then). Thanks.
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bronxboy55
April 30, 2012
Now don’t try to tell me that people in India talk about the weather.
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Priya
May 2, 2012
No, I won’t tell you that.
P.S. I was being nice in my previous comment. I’ve changed my mind now.
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shoreacres
April 27, 2012
Well, on the other hand… it’s precisely the infinite variability, the unpredictability and the beauty of weather that helps to make it fascinating. (At least to some of us) Like snowflakes, waves and people, no day is exactly the same, and thank goodness for that!
As for talking about the weather – some of us do it, incessantly, because it directly affects our lives on a daily basis. Sailors remark every wind shift. Varnishers feel the rise and fall of humidity. Ranchers feel the moisture, just walking across the land.
As for the weather chatter in the check-out lines? Perhaps it’s a vestige of a time when people generally experienced the world first-hand, and compared their experiences. Today, everyone gets the same forecast, and compares weather-forecasters’ predictions. That is boring.
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bronxboy55
April 30, 2012
Maybe I need to start initiating these conversations, Linda. Then I’d get to say something other than, “Yes, it is.”
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dearrosie
April 29, 2012
Brilliant writing as always. Love the last line. Love the cartoons.
I was at the beach in Malibu on Monday with visiting daughter and her partner and we couldn’t work out whether the tide was coming or going. It seems as if the waves like to keep it a secret so they can drive us – soaking wet – onto the rocks.
Of course any trip to Malibu isn’t complete without gelato at GROM. That’s where I discovered that my future in-law’s favorite ice cream flavor is pistachio. I said “Oh god poor Charles…!” and she said “Charles who?” and I said …
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bronxboy55
May 3, 2012
The beaches in PEI are as beautiful as any I’ve been to anywhere, Rosie. But pistachio gelato — now that’s a different story.
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magsx2
April 29, 2012
Hi,
I really laugh sometimes at some of the weather predictions and then it doesn’t happen, how do you get a job like that where it doesn’t matter if your right or wrong but you still get paid. 😀
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bronxboy55
May 3, 2012
I often ask that same question, Mags. Most forecasts I hear say something like “A mix of sun and cloud, with a fifty percent chance of precipitation.” That’s really helpful.
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souldipper
April 29, 2012
CBC had a program about how Canadians can talk about weather more creatively than any other nation. It’s our neutral zone. If you get on the elevator with another person, it’s not cool to ask how the person is or to say you like their purple shoes. But it’s perfectly okay to talk about the weather. When all else fails at a cocktail party, you can bring up weather. I know…boring, but it doesn’t have to last long. It’s just an ice breaker…oops! Is that a sneaky weather comment??
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bronxboy55
May 3, 2012
It must be different in PEI. Here, when you answer the phone, the first thing the caller says is, “How are you today?” It took me a long time to get used to that. I’d always respond with, “Who is this?”
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myonepreciouslife
April 30, 2012
I like this. It’s how I am when trying to build momentum on having an exercise regime. I’ll be all proud of myself for doing it every day for a while or whatever and then so frustrated that I then let it go for the next month. (Of course, I have total control here, so maybe this is a very poor comparison.) But yeah, it’s also all of life. *Especially* bloody April.
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bronxboy55
May 3, 2012
I just read the post about your upcoming trip to Spain and Morocco, Stephanie. So you’re not allowed to complain about the weather in Canada, or anything else for that matter.
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myonepreciouslife
May 3, 2012
Fair enough. Actually, I usually only complain about the weather if I’m dressed inappropriately for it. It *is* nice to see the sun now and then though.
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rangewriter
April 30, 2012
Well, the ebb and flow and the pesky little chaos in between are why life is so interesting. It’s like being in the movie with too many flashbacks and unrecognizeable characters…you know that you’ll never be able to accurately predict what’s around the next corner. Keeps you on your toes. ;-}
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bronxboy55
May 3, 2012
And it’s a good thing we can’t predict what’s around the next corner, Linda. We handle things as they come, but knowing about them in advance would likely paralyze us.
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happykidshappymom
May 1, 2012
Though I like things neat and orderly, I find I smile more when I see the curves in life.
I saw a documentary the other night on Nova. Part of a series based on a book by a theoretical physicist, I believe. One of the episodes was about time. And the directionality of time. Why we perceive time differently if we are, or are not, moving in relationship to it. Fascinating, really, even if I had to keep pausing it and replaying parts to understand. (In effect doing in reality what they discussed on the show.) Here’s the link, if you’d like to watch it online: http://video.pbs.org/video/2164065493
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bronxboy55
May 3, 2012
Thanks, Melissa. I watched the video, and have read a lot about time, although I’ve made absolutely no progress in understanding it. The same is true for relativity and many other theories about cosmology. I also have a Nova DVD, called “The Elegant Universe,” written and hosted by the same Brian Greene who’s in the video about time. It’s interesting that you mentioned the curves in life. All of these concepts are directly connected to the idea that space itself is curved. That always gives me a headache.
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Worrywart
May 1, 2012
I think in some odd way this may explain why I have lost and gained the same 50 pounds over and over again . . . .
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bronxboy55
May 3, 2012
I think dieting and weight gain are definitely part of the pattern.
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