Talking about vaccines - it's the new 'weather' chat | Blaise Tapp

Using the simple line: ‘Lovely day, isn’t it?’ was almost guaranteed to distract the otherwise busy neighbour or occasional acquaintance from whatever they were and engage in polite conversation.

Using the weather as a conversational tool is a tactic that has been developed over decades, if not centuries, and is as British as Yorkshire Pudding on a Sunday or throwing up in the street.

In 2021, however, there is a new topic of conversation for those rediscovering how to interact with others following our enforced nationwide hibernation – vaccines.

Everybody is talking about them.

It started back late last year when, just before Christmas, the first UK vaccine doses were rolled out.

Back then, knowing one of the chosen few to be vaccinated was a genuine cause for celebration as, after all, the very elderly were the ones most at risk from coronavirus.

Stories about old soldiers or great-grandmas getting the jab were the tonic that everybody needed and inevitably led to those in their 80s downwards asking: ‘When do I get mine?’

The point at which Baby Boomers started getting their shot in the arm, was when we started hearing the now common question: ‘You had yours yet?’, which is nearly always followed by a barely disguised smug smirk.

Then there’s the modern classic: ‘Which one did you have?’

I don’t think I’ve ever been that bothered about whether the painkillers I’ve occasionally popped over the years were the product of a multinational pharmaceutical giant or a German discount supermarket’s own brand.

However, the running commentary about the performance not to mention the possible side effects of the various Covid-19 vaccines, prompted me to take more than an interest than usual about what was going into my body when I received my first jab last weekend.

Until the back end of last week, I hadn’t really given much thought as to when I might receive my injection but, prompted by a flurry of social media posts by fellow forty-somethings who’d been jabbed, I began to feel ever-so-slightly left out.

I need not have worried as on Friday night, just before I put the lid down on my laptop for the weekend, I received a call from my local surgery asking whether I was free the next day.

It was absolutely the most exciting thing to happen to me since the summer, although, if I’m being brutally honest, there isn’t a great deal of competition for that accolade.

Perhaps the most noticeable thing about the snaking queue of would-be jabees was how calm it was.

Usually, when a group of younger middle-aged folk queue for anything it is not uncommon to hear some huffing and puffing at the very least, not to mention more than the occasional bit of swearing from those with somewhere more important to be.

This time, there was none of that just the eerie near silence of a group of strangers who seemed only too pleased to stand around on a crisp April lunchtime until receiving, what we all hope will be, a ticket to a normal existence.

There are, however, a hardcore of people who, for a variety of reasons, refuse to take the jab, which of course is something they are absolutely entitled to do.

I’ve encountered a few such people and, it’s fair to say that you wouldn’t want most of them on your quiz team. The few who can form any kind of coherent argument tend to be classic contrarians – the type to tell you The Style Council were far superior to The Jam.

Thankfully, such people seem to be in the minority and, with a bit of luck, there might come a time before too long when the events of the past 14 months are a distant memory and we’ll all go back to talking about the weather.