For Old Children

It's cold in Chicago right now. It's the first thing out of anyone's lips. Spend five minutes with anyone in northern Illinois and you're bound to hear about it.  As if our bodies had simply hadn't noticed. Like you're breaking news to people who've been without power for days. Like you're goddamn Paul Revere. Social media is suddenly transformed into a weather app that gives the temperature, snowfall, and unsolicited griping. I'm guilty of it too. My last status update was a poorly constructed weather jab.

So why the fuck are we all talking about the weather?! We know it doesn't matter. It doesn't make anyone warmer, melt the ice, or clear up traffic. No one really cares about how cold the walk was from the train to your apartment. Everyone makes that walk. We are all equally miserable.

But that's just it. We are all equally miserable. No matter how little you have in common with your neighbor, coworker, or cashier, we all share the same bit of misery. This meteorological blight gives us something tenuous to hold on to, a tiny thread connecting us to our peers.

The next time someone, especially a stranger, starts going on about the weather, indulge them. Take it further. Ask them about their day. What has the snow kept them from? What are they going to watch tonight on Netflix while huddled under a blanket? Maybe you haven't seen that movie. Maybe it's good. Maybe you were going to yoga class too. There is a better than average chance that your conversational advance will be perceived as creepy rather than charming, but who cares.  Ask away.

Adulthood is brutal on our social relationships. We're left these gawky, awkward, lonely people. Old children. Indulge us. We can't outright say it, but we want to get to know you. We're dying to say it, but some bullshit about the weather comes out. It's on the tip of our tongue. Be braver than we are. Please. Though a feeble gesture, it reaches toward you expectantly. Let it take you somewhere surprising.

Other times, though, people complain about the weather because they are squinting, hateful monsters who aim to mangle the joy of all those who surround them. Beware of these living trolls of human misery. They drag whole civilizations into the mired bog that is their shrewd and ignominious life. Fuck these people.

I guess it's a little from column A and a little from column B.  

No comments :

Post a Comment