Welcome to Empirical Purple

A blog by Simon Brady to cover a surprisingly wide range of geekiness, in a combination that no-one else does quite the same way. Probably. Either that, or it'll just be Simon talking about the likes of Football (usually the Soccer variety), PC & Tabletop Gaming, WWE, Movies, Music and occasionally even my actual job of Graphic Design, depending on what I'm up to in the world.



Saturday, January 19, 2013

That Emotive Four-Letter S Word

A moment's break in the morning.
Every single person I know from central Europe has been chuckling themselves silly at the British attitude to snow appearing. That would be, of course, the fact that cars slide off the road the moment that snow is mentioned on the radio, never mind the national panic when flakes actually begin to fall.

It's not just panic, of course, there is also supreme joy in roughly equal measure.

Snow is excellent because it looks lovely and can be any and all of fun, scary and romantic. It's also dangerous, disruptive and bloody cold.

When it turns up in huge amounts for three months of the year, every year, you need to have perfectly adequate preparation. An extra set of tyres as well as equipment designed to handle it on a personal and national level. This is why we see the oh-so-amusing "Meanwhile, in Canada..." meme on Facebook

When it comes for an infrequent seven days out of three hundred and sixty-five, though, we're not ready, prepared, or used to it. Just like when it gets over 30ÂșC on the occasional summer's day, Brits tend to go a little crazy when the weather steps out of it's nice, quiet, quaint and boring norms. Either that, or we try and act like it's nothing out of the ordinary and just blindly carry on regardless.

The thing is, we're well aware that our meagre force of gritters can't spread enough salt or shift enough snow to make our roads properly driveable. If we always had heavy snows that lasted a good proportion of the year, we'd have the infrastructure to deal with it. We'd also have the experience of dealing with it more than once in a blue moon and there wouldn't be such a novelty to it for us to inspire equal combiantions of excitement and dread.

Britain is a quaint land of averageness. Our mountains aren't very big, our hills roll but gently, our rivers aren't particularly wide and our summers are not especially hot. We don't live in a land of extremes, so when it does come about, we're all in a collective fluster.

Best simply to centre ourselves with a nice, relaxing cup of tea and face our challenges, as always, with a stiff upper lip and a bulldog spirit. And not freak out about the weather, of course, please?

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