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The Sun -- An Urban Legend? Fri, 22 Jul 2005 Summer is a time (cunningly located between Spring and September) when we, as Britons, come outdoors. We feel the Sun's warm rays, and we try and work out just what the Hell is going on. ("Global warming?" "Is it a dream?" "Are my pants on fire again?"). - Unable to find a rational explanation for this foreign warmth, and cautiously clutching umbrellas and anoraks, we take timid steps outside, where we ponder at the lack of rain. Experimentally, some of even leave the house completely - before dashing back inside, expecting a sudden monsoon. Finally satisfied that the Sun is real, and not just a marketing ploy, the country goes into a state of shock. Old people tell tales of the magnificent Summer of '49, where the Sun was sighted for days at a time. People are laughing in the streets, and we go about embracing the sunshine: the nation lies back, relaxes, and begins to melt. This reason for this is that --as a nation-- we have very little immunity to the Sun. Britons are people who should be stored in a cool, dry place, and always kept below 14 degrees celsius. This is because if we are placed into direct contact with real sunlight, we will spontaneously combust. This means that when we are hit by a sudden and unpredicted heatwave (at the same time each year), a frenzy then ensues. People rush to the stores and buy trolly-loads of suncream (which, in the hype, has been priced up about seventeen thousand percent) and stocks of tinned foods. They then dash home to their garages, basements or coolest rooms, where they try and survive by consuming cool, refreshing drinks (spiked with suncream). Some people even take the health-message to its illogical extreme; injecting suncream directly into their blood. Once the entire family, the family pets, the goldfish, Grandpa, the car and the entire house have been lathered in a thick layer of suncream, people relax and start to do Summer things, like go outside, complain about the weather, drink the new "lime... and suncream" flavour Coca-Cola, laugh, smile, and collapse from heat exhaustion. But, after all the complaints about the heat, all the sunburn patches and tanline tattoos, we will eventually grow to like the weather. And we will say that, while perhaps a little on the hot side, it’s very nearly perfect. And, following this blissful revelation, we promptly book our holidays to somewhere much warmer. Armed, naturally, with twin suitcases full of precious suncream. Here’s to you, Britain, and your freak 19 degree heatwaves. - Sam Smith By Sam Smith. |
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