I think that it is a Canadian thing. Before discussing politics, religion, or even hockey, it is obligatory to talk about the weather. Last night I attended the opening session of a national educators conference here in Vancouver. It was an opportunity to catch up with old friends from across the country and to meet a new generation of Heads and Chairs from a variety of shapes and sizes of schools. After awhile, it occurred to me that no matter how the conversation started, at some point the person I was speaking with was bound to say something like "it must be wonderful to live out here, and not have any real winter". While this might sound to you like a nice pleasantry - in reality, it is actually a bit of a put down. You see, Canadians pride themselves on suffering through every extreme of climate. So in the lower mainland, we are kind of seen as wimps! Even in my years living in relatively temperate Toronto, we all felt justified to ascribe to the great national pioneer myth of "roughing it in the bush" (with apologies to Suzanna Moodie!). Forget about our climate controlled homes and schools, our air-conditioned cars, and, high tech protective clothing, we are Canadians, and we have it tough! Having said that, in actual fact, the greatest thing about complaining about the weather is not in focusing on its actual effects, but rather in speculating on how bad it is going to get. As soon as the first flakes start to fall there there are moans about upcoming driving hassles, expected delays in ploughing streets, anticipated flight cancellations and, of course, shovelling! Spring means flooding; summer blisteringly hot and humid days (unless we are able to gripe about the unseasonably cool weather - "will summer ever arrive?); and, in the fall, "this good weather can't last"! The only time that you hear your friends speak positively about the weather is when they are reflecting on years past - "what a great summer that was!" or, "last winter I never even took my snowblower out of the garage!" or, "why can't we have another spring like that one!"
In fairness, weather in Canada is all pervasive and unpredictable. During the 2002 Winter Olympics - I watched the quarter finals of the men's hockey in 20C weather on the patio of a pub in Toronto; the semis in a minus six chill in Winnipeg two days later; and the finals, two days after that, insulated by layers of down and glasses of wine in a minus 35C deep freeze in Calgary. Exigencies of weather are part of time honoured regional bragging rights. So when my Maritime, Central Canadian, and Prairie friends find themselves enjoying a beautiful day in Stanley Park in mid-October, no wonder that they take the opportunity to imply that I have a climatic soft touch!
What they don't know, is that obsession with the weather is universal, and not just restricted to the imagined extremes of climate. When I first arrived in Vancouver to a sunny warm summer and balmy fall, virtually everyone commented to me what a tough adjustment the weather on the North Shore must be after living in Bermuda. When I answered that so far the weather here was pretty much the same as there, I would get a knowing - "you'll see"!
So, why do we talk this way? I think that the answer is simple. Weather is the ultimate "neutral" topic of conversation. It is something that everyone feels expert on, and that no-one has to follow-up with any commitment to action (as in "everybody talks about the weather, but no-one ever does anything about it.") There are as many opinions, predictions, and truisms about it as there are people willing to comment (and that, it seems, is just about everyone). Weather gives us the chance to drag out the lamest cliches and use them with abandon. ("It's raining cats and dogs", "It's blowing like sixty"; "It's hot as blazes"; "It's like the Arctic out there"). And here, in Canada's rainforest, we can even parse the precipitation down to a specific volume (mist, sprinkle, drizzle, shower, downpour, etc.)
Ultimately, it is our collective favourite conversational gambit. Always timely, and never offensive. Yesterday, after listening to all of my visiting friends comment on the great weather, I mentioned to a Vancouver colleague about what a beautiful fall we were having. His response?
"And then it rains!"
In fairness, weather in Canada is all pervasive and unpredictable. During the 2002 Winter Olympics - I watched the quarter finals of the men's hockey in 20C weather on the patio of a pub in Toronto; the semis in a minus six chill in Winnipeg two days later; and the finals, two days after that, insulated by layers of down and glasses of wine in a minus 35C deep freeze in Calgary. Exigencies of weather are part of time honoured regional bragging rights. So when my Maritime, Central Canadian, and Prairie friends find themselves enjoying a beautiful day in Stanley Park in mid-October, no wonder that they take the opportunity to imply that I have a climatic soft touch!
What they don't know, is that obsession with the weather is universal, and not just restricted to the imagined extremes of climate. When I first arrived in Vancouver to a sunny warm summer and balmy fall, virtually everyone commented to me what a tough adjustment the weather on the North Shore must be after living in Bermuda. When I answered that so far the weather here was pretty much the same as there, I would get a knowing - "you'll see"!
So, why do we talk this way? I think that the answer is simple. Weather is the ultimate "neutral" topic of conversation. It is something that everyone feels expert on, and that no-one has to follow-up with any commitment to action (as in "everybody talks about the weather, but no-one ever does anything about it.") There are as many opinions, predictions, and truisms about it as there are people willing to comment (and that, it seems, is just about everyone). Weather gives us the chance to drag out the lamest cliches and use them with abandon. ("It's raining cats and dogs", "It's blowing like sixty"; "It's hot as blazes"; "It's like the Arctic out there"). And here, in Canada's rainforest, we can even parse the precipitation down to a specific volume (mist, sprinkle, drizzle, shower, downpour, etc.)
Ultimately, it is our collective favourite conversational gambit. Always timely, and never offensive. Yesterday, after listening to all of my visiting friends comment on the great weather, I mentioned to a Vancouver colleague about what a beautiful fall we were having. His response?
"And then it rains!"
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