The Passing Of Time

As Christmas passes and there is nothing else to talk about, the British Press are full of Reviews Of The Year. They fill space, pass a quiet half hour, and can be written on almost any theme. We are treated to Photos of the Year, Best Deaths of the Year, Weather of the Year, Nicest Cheese of the Year, Rear of the Year, Film of the Year, Goal of the Year, and so on, and so on.

If you search, you will also find a small article previewing the coming year. What will 2013 be like for you? I think it says something about us all that we would rather look back than forward. Are the journalists just a little scared by what lies just around the corner? Are WE scared about what lies around the corner? Or are we just not interested?

A glance at the history books suggest that the Victorians looked back remarkably little. Successes were trumpeted, but then it was on to the next thing. Africa ‘conquered’, let’s have a look at Asia next chaps. The only national reflection came during the jubilees for Victoria. By contrast, we seem to spend a larger part of our time in nostalgic neck-craning and therapeutic good-old-days work avoidance. You only have to look at the enduring popularity of Morecambe & Wise (both dead) and Dad’s Army (nearly all dead - Ian Lavender must be looking over his shoulder for the Grim Reaper every time he hears Bud Flanagan’s dulcet tones) to see that we are more than happy to have half an hour of escape back to ‘a simpler time’.

Is something amiss in this, or is it harmless? Is it the case that our world has become so complicated and so frightening that it is becoming a more common escape?

It is easy to live almost permanently in the past. I am a chief culprit.

However, as 2012 draws to an exhausting close, I am making myself a promise that I will look forward more in the next year. And plan. And eat less chocolate.