Spanish Cow

Umbrella Demons…

The UK is special: whereas, in other countries which get much more rain, people manage to go about their daily lives without too much harm coming to everyone around them, we in the UK like to get the good old-fashioned lethal weapon known as the cheap and nasty umbrella out as soon as it starts to drizzle just a bit. Pathetic! Notice that word: drizzle? That’s an English word too, of course. It depicts the kind of rain that would never be allowed to waste breath in other countries, but in the UK is given a place in the dictionary and a reason to exist.

I may sound bitter, and to be honest I am, but I have no problem at all with umbrellas when it is absolutely chucking it down. But here’s the point I’m making: in England, is it really chucking it down that often? Enough for people to moan that they need to carry around beach towel bags? The answer is no, it is not. Unless you live beyond Sheffield, or in the valleys of Scotland, in which case evolution has allowed incredible feats of nature to happen. Skin is more leathery, rain-water slides off as it does off a duck’s back. The umbrella, in some places where it never stops raining ever, is an integral part of a human being: a fold of skin that can be pulled over the head as and when.

No, the real problem I have with umbrellas is their lethal weapon ness. They truly are dangerous. Anyone would think that poking someone’s eyes out was the desired purpose of the tens of little daggery spikes on the outside. The umbrella has, and this is no exaggeration, made people fearful of walking along the pavement. It’s a war out there, so be ready! Either you are a weapon carrier and you are safe, or you are a vigilante non weapon carrier; in which case you better be either a) very short or b) good at learning to dodge.

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