Well, blow me down

'Hurricane Hubert wasn't happy. "I'm a female storm trapped in a male identity! I want to be Hurricane Harriet!" No wonder depression set in'

The other day I was listening to a tape recording I had made of Back Row, Radio 4's very good film-review programme, and they were talking about the Finnish director Kaurismaki, an engagingly quirky character who has just made a film called The Man Who Had No Past. This, it seems, is all about a Helsinki citizen who loses his memory in a mugging.

It sounded quite intriguing.

Then the programme ended. But the tape recording ran on, into the next programme, which was the weather forecast for shipping. Which I found myself listening to, as my hands were wet and I couldn't switch off. And this is where the extraordinary thing happened.

The shipping man said: "Here is the general synopsis at midday. Low, 260 miles west of Rockall, 975, moving slowly east and losing its identity."

A low, moving slowly east and losing its identity! So it isn't just Helsinki citizens who lose their character. It's areas of low pressure as well. And immediately I saw that the behavioural problems of weather systems are ripe for turning into drama. A radio play, perhaps? Along the following lines...

Scene: way out in the Atlantic. An area of high pressure is stationary. A low is passing near by. They greet each other with a brief squall.

High: Hi, there! Where are you off to?

Low: Oh, I don't know. I think I'm moving slowly east.

High: Great! Going to hit Britain with some wintry showers? That's the spirit! I'll come along later and dry it all up!

Low: I don't know yet. I'm not feeling very... I haven't really got the...

High: Come on, cheer up! God, why are you lows always so – I don't know – pessimistic and gloomy?

Low: That's how we are. That's what we're all about. Why do you think we are called depressions?

High: Very good! I like it. Nice one. My name's Hugo, by the way.

Low: Oh, God, are anticyclones being given names these days? How depressing.

High: Well, if hurricanes can get names, why shouldn't we? Although, to be quite honest, I did meet a hurricane the other day who hated their name.

Low: Why? What was it called?

High: Hurricane Hubert.

Low: I'm not surprised. Hubert. What a ghastly name.

High: Yes, but it wasn't the name that was causing the trouble. It was the gender. This hurricane was convinced that she was a she, and wanted a girl's name. "Being called Hubert is so arbitrary!" she told me. "I feel I am a female storm trapped in a male identity! In my few days on earth I want to be Hurricane Harriet!"

Low: And I bet you told her to cheer up and snap out of it.

High: You bet I did!

Low: No wonder she was suicidal. What happened to her?

High: She blew herself out over the mid-west somewhere.

Low: There you go. Suicidal while of unsound pressure.

High: Hey, come on! Look on the bright side!

Low: Why? What's there to be bright about? You drift east, you make everything wet and cold, and then you... you...

High: Yes?

Low: You fill up over the North Sea and die... Oh! Don't look now, but...

High: What?

Low: Over there. See that warm front? See it? She and I had a bit of a run-in over Greenland way, and I've been avoiding her ever since. If she comes this way, don't say anything...

High: Yoo hoo! Warm front! Hello, there!

Low: Oh, God Almighty!

Warm Front: Hi, high! 'lo, Low! Oh, it's you.

Low: Yes, it's me.

High: Hey, what's all this about? What have you two been up to?

Warm Front: You ask him. I don't want to talk about it.

Low: Look, it's very silly. We met up one wild night off Newfoundland... Things got a bit out of hand... I may have misbehaved... I don't remember exactly...

Warm Front: Misbehaved! You just got your cold extremities all over my warm front, that's all! Couldn't keep your isobars to yourself, could you? I've never been so buffeted in all my life!

Well, I think you get the idea. I look forward to an approach from Greg Dyke. He knows where to find me