3B
Wednesday, January 17, 2018 // The Statement
Soundtracking: The weather’s mood swings
I
f there’s one thing I’m reasonably
good at — and the list of things I
can do is pretty low these days —
it’s small talk about the weather.
You wanna talk about a movie you
saw last week? Sure. Wanna ask how my
day was? Something awkward probably
happened but I’ll tell you everything
anyway. Wanna talk about the weather?
Fuck yes.
I love talking about the weather.
Nothing gets me more jazzed, more
stoked or more psyched than the weather
because you can bring it up anytime and
someone will always have something
to say. You’ll never cut anyone out. It’s a
universal issue … Well, it’s not actually
universal because microbes on other
planets have different weather patterns to
talk about, but it’s a saying so hop off your
soapbox and chill out. It’s just the weather.
Here’s an actual conversation I had
the other day. Very pleasant, would rate
it seven out of 10 in terms of personal
fulfillment.
“Hey.”
“Hey! Man, this weather is wild! Like,
make up your mind, planet!”
“Yeah for sure. Catch you later.”
Easy
peasy,
lemon
squeezy.
No
bullshit, just talking about the weather.
That’s all you need. Like the other day …
“One Fine Day” — The Chiffons
I had gotten used to piling on layers of
clothes in the morning assuming it was
just as freezing as the day before. That’s
a pretty fair assumption in Ann Arbor.
Once it starts snowing, you’re pretty
much a Popsicle until spring. Don’t get
me wrong, I love snow. But if it’s cold
and it’s not snowing, there’s no point
to it being so cold. Just give us some
snow to awe at and put on Snapchat as
if everyone else can’t just look out the
window and see the exact same thing.
But one day, I popped on jeans, tall
socks, boots, an undershirt, a flannel,
a crewneck and then a coat featuring a
lovely accent of a beanie and gloves. I
was ready for whatever Earth wanted to
throw my way …
Except heat. Fifty degrees blindsided
me like that Sandra Bullock movie
about football.
The moment I stepped outside, I
noticed the sun was actually shining
and a lovely warmth was brushing my
cheeks. I braced myself for nothing. I ran
back upstairs and changed, definitely
securing my tardiness to lecture but who
cares? It’s summer again!
“Pool Boyz” — Diet Cig
“I just wanna get cool / Let’s go
swimming in a swimming pool”
I don’t think there was anyone not
talking about the weather that day. It
warmed my heart. I walked down State
Street, eavesdropping because I’m an
invasive piece of shit, and all I heard
was people marveling at the weather. No
one was excluded from the conversation.
The campus was united over the Earth’s
mood swings.
We had just come out of what felt
like an eternal winter. The gray skies
felt ingrained in my vision but now, I
looked up and saw nothing but beautiful,
striking blue. Later that day, the sunset
turned the sky a lovely shade of pink and
purple. Pure bliss.
“Pineapple Skies” — Miguel
“There’s pineapple purple skies /
Promise everything gon’ be alright”
The weather was perfect. I was
perfectly comfortable with a light jacket
and Hawaiian shirt with a huge hole on
the front. Usually, if I want to suffer for
fashion, that one bit where my bare
skin hits the cold air freezes into an
ice cube. Fashion is pain and I will
never change my self-destructive and
inconvenient ways.
That day, I was content.
I got home that night, lay down in bed
and was thrilled to see what tomorrow
would bring.
Pause on the narrative real quick.
Weather
apps
are
single-handedly
dismantling our society’s small talk and
they should be thrown out the window
as a crime against our social system.
Hot take, I know, but it’s the truth. If
you know what the weather is going to
be like tomorrow, there’s no mystery in a
conversation. There’s no end result. You
just know immediately. If I ask someone
“What do you think the weather’s gonna
be like?” and I see them reach into their
pocket to check, I know my entire small
talk conversation is ruined. Where has
the joy gone in just guessing and waiting
to see if your gamble on Earth’s weather
patterns for the day is correct?
We could never have a casino of
just predicting what the weather is.
Technology has ruined that viable
market and I will never forgive it.
Back to the weather, I woke up the
next day ready to see if our warm streak
was about to officially begin.
Think again.
“Cold Cold Heart” — Norah Jones
I was not prepared to jump back to
where we were two days ago. The Earth
had given me a taste of what could be and
I got greedy. Icarus had flown too close
to the Sun and was cast into the cold
water below. Honestly, it was just a little
rude on the Earth’s part. Who do you
think you are?
I stuck my hand out the window,
expecting a pleasant brush of heat but
instead was smacked across the face
with a cold breeze. I guess I should have
expected it. In the wise words of that
one Robert Frost poem that people only
know from “The Outsiders”: “nothing
gold can stay.”
I threw on my Target-brand navy-
blue peacoat that I’ve had since
freshman year of high school. It has
failed me many times but I was hopeful
that I could conserve body heat on my
way to class.
Fuck hope.
“Why You Wanna Treat Me So Bad”
— Prince
You betrayed me, peacoat and I will
never forgive you … until I ultimately
forget and don you another day.
I went about my day, freezing in my coat
but it takes a lot to be a fashion icon like
myself. I was taking the Commuter South
bus route from North Campus, trying to
concentrate on the music blaring from
my earbuds. If I focused on the warming
sounds of Prince’s silky smooth voice, I
wouldn’t be as cold. It had worked in the
past. Unfortunately, I focused a little too
hard and missed my stop by a mile and a
half. I immediately pulled the yellow cord
and jumped off the bus at the nearest
stop. There was no way I was about to
walk home from where I ended up. So I
waited … and waited … and then I thought
about how cold I was … and then I waited
some more.
“All Day” — Kanye West
I looked like Jack Nicholson in the
end of “The Shining” by the time the
Commuter North bus rolled around to
take me back the way I came. The door
popped open and I swear I had to break
the ice that had formed around my
joints before I could walk like a robot
into that warm haven. I never thought
I would have treated the sopping and
muddy insides of a blue bus with the
same appreciation and folksiness that
I would a beautiful cabin in the woods
with a roaring fireplace. I kicked my feet
up, kept my earbuds OUT of my sight
so I wouldn’t get distracted again and
watched with the glaring intensity of a
night owl for my stop.
I ran to my room, jumped in bed
and lied there until I could feel my
appendages again.
“Warm on a Cold Night” — Homme
ft. Aminé
Despite
this
pain,
despite
the
unfortunate
scenarios
Earth’s
seemingly random weather patterns
may bring, they keep you on your toes.
Also, I wouldn’t have this week’s
column without small talk about the
weather.
So thanks for helping me reach
word count, Earth. You’re pretty rad
sometimes. Keep on doin’ you.
“Thank You” — Francis and the
Lights
BY MATT HARMON, DAILY NEWS EDITOR
ILLUSTRATION BY ROSEANNE CHAO