Dear Mr Healey from Travis
Re: Why Does It Always Rain On Me?
This morning I asked my wife Jean to fetch the tape measure from my tool-box under the stairs and measure me whilst fully upright. I have calculated that the ariel dimensions of an adult male are approximately 30" inches in length from shoulder to shoulder and 4" in width, with a slight bulge of 6" at the centre, caused by the crown of the skull. Granted, our statistics may be a little askew as I was a little fidgety on account of trying to watch 'Wife Swap U.S.A.' at the same time, however they will more than suffice for the purposes of the exercise.
Clouds are available in many sizes, ranging from only a few feet across (the most diminutive puffy, fair weather, cumulus) to rather large (the cumulonimbus thunderstorm model) which can elongate to several miles. If of course one counts coverage, as in a grey winter's day, the crystallized droplets can extend for several hundred miles.
Bearing the above varieties in mind, and, even allowing for the most minute accumulation of frozen water particles ululating in our planet's upper gas shell to converge into the most compact downpour bestower, forgive me for pontificating that it is utterly impossible (both given that showers emanating from same do so uniformly from it's surface and the mass is not endowed of logic and intelligence) for a vaporous concentration isolated to the area afore-calculated to grant you exclusivity of saturation whilst those in an immediate vicinity may escape the narrow jettison to go about their day to day business merrily arid. That the slim deluge should then track you like some malevolent Satellite Navigation device (which it would have to do if it is only to saturate yourself and no other) in vengeance for you promulgating a falsehood when aged seventeen is, frankly, the most audacious hail-based averment I have heard since The Weather Girls. I retract this imputation only at such time as the alleged phenomena can be recreated under stringent scientific conditions with an eminent meteorologist present.
Furthermore, Mr. Healey, I recently witnessed your twee ensemble on 'Later With Jools Holland', but, given that the rendition forum was indoors with no windows, was sadly unable to determine whether a drizzle was in progress. However, I did happen upon some 'footage' on the 'you tube' channel of you performing at an open air concert in Somerset and can confirm that both yourself and the rest of your 'Hairy Cornflake' monickered outfit were resolutely undrenched. Indeed, without wishing to be thought of as a pedant, if, as your Light Rock descant unequivocally states, you are sleeted upon without respite, then I am furrow-browed as to how this relentless onslaught may occur on a clear day or for that matter within rooved quarters. I am "Coming Around" to the conclusion that such perpetual dousing would naturally necessitate the fluffy streamer to flout all moisture endowing orthodoxies and somehow unmoor from it's conventional habitat of high altitude sky to descend to crown level and follow you into buildings not unlike the condensed feculence brume that stalks 'Pigpen'. As aforementioned, your appearance on Mr. Holland's 'musical magazine programme' provides clear evidence to the contrary.
Quack Quack, Oops!
Under the circumstances I will thank you to re-title your not unmelodious yet unquantifiable 'Celt Rock lighter-waver', 'Why Does It Sometimes Rain On Me And Those In My Contiguous Radius', forthwith, so as to endue it with a veracity thusfar deficient. You may be even be well advised to "Turn" the amelioration into a 'call and response live favourite', by leaving an abeyance after the chorus for your 'punters' to 'fill' with a communal chant of "Atmospheric Conditions!", before the mid-tempo lament resumes.
I hope that this writing reaches you safely and look forward to listening to the precipitational redress on Bournemouth's peerless Wave FM in the near future
P.S. Jean has asked me to enquire of you if you are in any way related to the densely browed ex-Chancellor of the Exchequer, and, if so, to pass on her kindest regards, as he was always her favourite Mike Yarwood impression