The Sun King

sunThe sun was shining yesterday and Barack Obama came to town. What more could London ask for?

We all get a bit giddy when the sun comes out here. People pour out of their apartments and houses. Parks become jam packed with people, all stumbling around with silly grins on their faces.

Lovely weather.

Ooh, yes, isn’t it lovely.

We can’t quite believe it. Sun. Oh, yes, feel that warmth. Ooo, yes, that feels good. People stripping as they walk down the road. Anything to get that sun touching months of dead white flesh. Punters out in front of pub, double-fisting pints of beer.

And the children. I’ve never seen so many children. I swear these kids must normally be kept in people’s back shed. (Oh, honey, can you go get our sun unbrella and our two extra kids?) Only let out on nice days to crawl all over the swings, the flying fox, the sand box. I just spent the afternoon watching my son navigate a half-square foot of sand.

In Central London even the G20 protesters were growing pink from all the sun. Not to mention red with rage from the bankers sitting up in their offices and waving £10 notes at them. Steady, people.

But hey, Obama’s here and it will all be sorted. Right?

And while you wait, slap on that sun screen and have another pint.

photo by fudj (flickr)

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