Good News Week

A few of us from the office were at the pub on Friday when the news came on the radio. After listening to the headlines for a few minutes, one of my colleagues--who recently moved to the UK from Spain--observed, "The news here. It's always bad."

Now I realize, even in America, 'Local Youth Club Cleans Up Neighborhood Park' is not a likely headline, especially when 'Delinquents Invade Playground' is available. Bad news sells; but the news here isn't merely consistently bad, it's awful.

"Summer Heat Wave Brings on Drought - we're all going to die!"

"Tory Party Stand Good Chance in By-Election - we're all going to die!"

"The NHS is Crap - we're all going to die!"

"Meteor Shower to Make Spectacular Celestial Display - it will probably kill us all."

The Brits love their misery. No matter what happens in politics, the environment, medicine or the culinary sciences, it's cause to shake your head in despair and give up all hope. The British, as a nation, have not been happy since the Blitz.

The Blitz, as Churchill noted, was their finest hour, but it wasn't because of the bravery and pluck they displayed. It was because--with their army in tatters, their cities being bombed and facing imminent invasion by a superior enemy--the news, at last, could not be worse. This raised their spirits to unheard of heights.

But then they won the war and things have been going downhill ever since.

Currently, saddled with a high standard of living and a healthy economy, the population is madly casting about for reasons to grumble. Granted, the government makes it easy for them (nothing like a politician caught with his pants down or his hand in the till -- or both -- to set the nation tisk-tisking) but with the absence of any truly outrageous scandals, they are beginning to complain about the nice weather.

You really can't blame them; the Brits have always enjoyed their dreadful climate, but lately, even the most optimistic among them have had to admit that the weather is getting nicer here. They have just had to endure the most amiable summer on record and that has made the nation rather grim.

After all, what can nice weather mean other than "we're all going to die!" It was warmer this summer than last summer, so it stands to reason next summer will be warmer still, and the one after that and the one after that, so by 2012, it will be 175 degrees in the shade and the ice caps will melt and everyone in the lowlands will drown and everyone on the high ground will starve and those that don't will surely be eaten by survivalists. The only bright spot is, the impending apocalypse will spare them the embarrassment they surely would have brought upon themselves by not having the Olympic stadiums completed on time.

Actually, things were starting to look better for a while. Last week it rained and got cold and the days became suitably dreary. This weekend, it was forecast to be rainy with gale force winds so everyone was looking forward to a nice round of, "wouldn't you just know it." Unfortunately the weatherman got it wrong and it's, well, beautiful outside. The sky is crystal clear, there is no wind and the sun is warm and amiable.

I suppose there's nothing for it but to sit out and enjoy the day, even if I have to listen to people clucking their tongues and reminding me that, with the ozone layer shrinking at around a hundred meters a second, I'm likely to be dead from UV radiation by tea time.