I spun round to see a couple of giggling kids wielding snowballs. Immediately, I ducked behind a car, scooped up some snow and fired one back. It soared away to the right, way off target. I pulled a face, the kids grinned back, and so began several hilarious minutes of snow-flinging in which I did eventually manage to get a few shots on target (though the youngsters were way better). Then suddenly I realised: what on Earth were we doing? How DARE we enjoy the snow when, as all the media is telling us today, it's costing the economy MILLIONS OF POUNDS?!
Here's a two-minute poetic explanation, filmed in the snow yesterday, with the text below (some of you may have heard this before; it was great to finally get to film it in the appropriate weather!):
A billion pounds so far, apparently
Today
I awoke into a bright, white, living nightmare.
I
stared, horrified, as the fat flakes settled gently
On
my driveway and lawn
Topping
each gatepost with a fluffy white fez
Transforming
the hedgerow into an indigestible
But
beautiful
Christmas
cake,
And
I cried “Oh my God!
What
about the economy?”
As
I walked to the park I stared with mounting panic
At
the parked cars adorning the street
Each
coated three inches deep
Or
with patches swept clean
Arsenals
for snowball fights
I
almost wept to think of the petrol not being burned
Of
the mindless tasks not being performed
In
offices thirty miles away.
In
the park, it only got worse.
Children
and adults were laughing together
Whole
streets united in play
Great
snowy constructions were rising from the ground
As
the treacherous flakes continued to fall
Ramps,
forts and igloos,
A
menagerie of assorted snow-beings
Icy
sculptures of ethereal beauty
Or
lumpy majesty
My
head went light and I struggled not to faint
At
the thought of all that creativity
Hard
work and productivity
Not
being spent on the tedious administrative tasks
And
the learning of pointless facts by rote
So
vital to the functioning of a modern economy.
A
newly fostered sense of community
Of
shared experience and humanity
And
the kind of childlike wonder
That
reminds us that it’s good to be alive
Is
all very well
But
it’s not going to revive the flagging FTSE 100 share index now, is it?
I
went back home to get my snowplough
They’ll
thank me for this one day.
