PEOPLE ARE AWFUL. Whether you meant it or not, someone is going to take offense at something you said. Sometime. Probably soon.

Talking about politics, guns, religion, and the state of just about everything is out. The only safe thing left to talk about is the weather. No one ever said, “Well, f*** you and your opinion about the weather.” It’s just the way it is. The weather is the great equalizer.

Learning early on the art of discussing the weather with someone you dislike for every other damn thing about them is all that’s left in a time of incivility and downright ugly. Talking about the weather was what was expected as you came through the door. In fact, it was often the only subject of conversation you had with your neighbors and your ability to finesse the finer points of the barometric pressure could set you apart as an expert.

But here we are. Instead of a conversation opener, the weather is now the only safe thing left to talk about. Do not stray into cloud seeding, contrails, steering hurricanes, HAARP, and weaponized weather radar. As long as you stay away from tin foil hat discussions and stick to what you can see out the window or poking fun at the weather people on TV, you can enjoy your coffee without someone yelling at you and telling you you’re wrong.

When I was a kid, mid-mornings in my mom’s diner were for the pie and coffee crowd fresh from a few hours of strenuous labor and gasping for a piece of apple pie and a mug of strong coffee. To a man they entered with the universal verbal handshake: “It’s a cold one out there” or “it’s raining cats and dogs” or “going to snow later. Supposed to get over a foot.” Every weekday morning only the fruit pie changed, the conversation about the weather did not. It was familiar: a Norman Rockwell magazine cover of life that seems a century ago in this hateful time.

Today the pie and coffee might be gone but the weather is still the familiar old sock of a conversation. Fist shaking at the mad circus we’re living in can come later in the day. The first thing I do in the morning is the same thing my parents and grandparents did: put on the coffee and check the weather. Facing down the bullies can come later. This morning, every morning, it’s me and the coffee maker and the weather.