We British apparently love talking about the weather. It regularly tops opinion polls as being the most quintessentially British of traits, an obsession almost. I must say I’ve never really seen the fascination. Commenting on the blindingly obvious fact that water is falling from the air, or studying the movement of weather fronts like there’s a great war going on in the sky has always seemed rather pointless. What can I actually do about it anyway, stand Canute-like and demand the weather goes away? Still, since the alternative British stereotypes of keeping a stiff upper lip in the face of adversity (I’d rather run away and hide) or getting drunk in the city centre, fighting and vomiting in a bus shelter are equally unappealing I will reluctantly talk about the weather.
It’s that time of year when occasionally, just occasionally, fluffy white frozen water falls from the air. There’s something magical about seeing the world around you transformed. Where once stood green fields there’s now a blanket of bright white glistening snow; where even your footsteps sound different, crunching with each movement. Then there’s snowmen, sledging and one of the rare occasions when it’s ok to pelt strangers with missiles. Even for a miserable git like me, something of the lost child re-emerges. Nevertheless it’s a real pain in the backside (sometimes literally) for anybody who has to trudge through it on the way to work or drive along slippery roads. And then there’s the accidents, cancelled trains, planes, closed offices and people stranded.
So it was that last week, just as we were about to head off to Sheffield for our gig at the Academy when we were cancelled due to the weather. We had our set perfected, our instruments ready and most importantly our playlist set up for the journey so we were bitterly disappointed, I must say. Cancelled because of snow? You may be wondering whatever happened to that stiff upper lip I talked about before, why can’t people battle through the adverse weather conditions. Well I’m sorry to say that thought did occur to me, but really it’s only a gig. I’m sure the people of Sheffield are dying to see Candi’s Dog, but we don’t want anybody actually dying coming to see Candi’s Dog.
And you may also be thinking. At least with the gig cancelled you can let your inner child go out enjoy the snow? Not a chance. Up here we had the tiniest of dustings so I had to watch the kids pitifully trying to scrape together enough snow for a snowball, but mostly just collecting mud. So I will have to wait for my snow and the people of Sheffield will have to wait for Candi’s Dog, at least until the 17th April when we are back in town. Unless of course we’re flooded or blown away by a hurricane. Which devastation I could happily face with a stiff upper lip, until the first person commented ‘terrible weather we’re having!’