Coffee Shop Lecture

I was rather rudely reprimanded  by a complete stranger in Starbucks for a simple descriptive statement. Incorrect though I may have been in my imparting of knowledge I objected to his intrusion into what had been a private conversation with my son. My attempt at resurrecting my GCSE Geography and impressing the lad was shot down in flames by a senior and  portly chap in a cardigan, moleskin trousers, sporting field glasses and a tall skinny latte. The point of the unprovoked verbal attack was my confident opinion that "the Humber is indeed a mighty river". He rebuked me with the comment "it is in fact not a river but an estuary". I stood shocked and corrected. I could sense the disappointment in me from my son who always looked to me for explanations to the mystery of landforms, strange hillocks and both alluvial and glacial features. All I had told him was now in doubt. I was now no longer a credible father when before I had always tried to be an incredible one. Would my lecture on the volcanic origins of the rock beneath Edinburgh Castle now stand up to scrutiny? Would my son believe my detailed story of how the glaciers gouged a route through to the east coast and that our favourite coastal town was built on a series of moraines or residual piles of soil and debris? As for the power of rivers and streams to shape the landscape from their freshwater source to the saline sea (an estuary indeed) I honestly believed he would not cast a second glance now that his father had been exposed as a geographical fraud. I tried to regain some composure but any quick and witty defence escaped me completely. I looked around the coffee shop for any potential sympathetic allies. In the window overlooking the river/estuary was a regular, a Methodist Minister, always in attendance at the same time every thursday afternoon. I swear that he simply looked the other way not wanting to get involved in an argument over a watercourse unless it involved a miracle. A young couple at the counter did offer me a brief look of empathy(was the portly chap a relative of theirs?) but then again I do not think that the geography curriculum in their recent educational time reached the heady heights of pluvial matters. Perhaps a supporting word on population or urban models could have been forthcoming but they were as useful to me as a canoe without a paddle. I admit that I was stumped for words and as I left Starbucks with an embarassed youth in tow I could only wish that the waters of the river, oops estuary, would swallow me up whole.