Times, Are They Really A'changing?

Like almost everyone else I bemoan the passing of time. Plus like many others I occasionally pontificate as to how life was often, if not better, certainly different in our distant past. Our memories often deceive us and nostalgia takes over. What's the saying,* 'Viewed through rose coloured spectacles.' (Seeing life only positively, in other words, seeing everything in a cheerful and optimistic way.) What's particularly interesting in my case is the fact that I kept a very comprehensive diary for one year, 1985; the year itself of no special significance, but its all there, in black and white. Remembering of course twenty five years is a fair while ago. Whilst you're reading my efforts, can you remember events from your past ten, twenty, thirty, forty or even fifty years.

Diary excerpt, October 1985.

'Paulette continues to attend her Keep-Fit class whilst I prefer to write, watch television and drink home brew.'

Nothing new there then, even allowing for the fact that my wife is eight years younger than me. The home brewing has gone (A necessity when we were young and poor, home brewing is no longer in vogue. Most of us are financially better off compared to the 1980's)

My TV watching is so-so and I am still involved in various aspects of writing. (No blogging then a days)

Twenty five years on, I've had various serious health scares, am diabetic and suffer from fairly serious mobility problems caused by arthritis. My wife was diagnosed a Coeliac in 1987 and also has serious arthritic problems (Despite the Keep Fit). The children are grown up, with children of their own, so life goes on, history in part repeating itself. Progress in a way, mustn't grumble.

Diary excerpt Nov 9th 1985

'My mother died, worn out at the premature age of forty six. I am forty six today.'

My mother died of pneumonia. No one should die of pneumonia, particularly so in the reasonably sophisticated, fairly developed western world. I am not in brilliant shape, with the diabetes and everything else, but they, the modern NHS keep me going. Nowadays my world seems full of geriatrics, in front of me in the queue at the supermarket, at the football, scoffing two for one meals in the pub. Those of mature age certainly 'rule' in 2010. Progress, yes or no?

We have a market at Allenton, adjacent to where I lived at the time. Opened in 1961, consisting of 90 stalls on Fridays and Saturdays it was lively if considered somewhat downmarket. And if Fridays and Saturdays were less than upmarket, the flea market on Tuesday evenings was even less salubrious. Stalls offering every conceivable second hand goods, junk of the highest order, to even less wholesome customers the norm. Shady goods, shadier deals, the shadiest of dealers; great fun, but not for the fainted hearted.

My daughter Sarah aged sixteen befriended a stall holder, helping on his stall on occasion. Her innocent looks and youthful well scrubbed complexion standing out like a beacon amongst the great unwashed. Nevertheless I was proud of her efforts and once took my camera from its case, ready to record her efforts for posterity. Ready to record, not ready for the mass exodus of stall holders within range, who had no desire to have their efforts within the black economy recorded on film; I was indeed naive. Few if any wished their efforts to be available for examination by anyone, and particularly anyone who might conceivably be a tax inspector or the like. Taxes, tax forms, who needs 'em! Benefit fraud was alive and well in 1985.

Fast forward to 2010, a coalition government eager to exert its authority. And what is the 'flavour of the month' at the Conservative Party Conference in Birmingham. Clamping down on benefit fraud of course. Oh well, what's a mere twenty five years between friends! And by the way, Tesco have bought the pub, The Mitre that adjoins the market. Plus all the nearby houses. And guess what, they've bought the market site too. Ah well, that's progress, 2010 style. ( I looked up Allenton Market on the Internet to refresh my memory. A non too erudite web site referred to the market as a 'flee market'; a Freudian slip perhaps! http://www.derbyphotos.co.uk/. Amazingly enough Allenton Market was also listed as a 'Gay Derby Cruising Area'. Even at seventy we live and learn.)

An old man's memories but backed up by the written word. Other memories may not be so accurate. But there is no doubt life changes and inevitably moves on. 'It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.' (Charles Dickens. A Tale of Two Cities.) We smoked in public and went to places like Skegness and Yarmouth for holidays; cruises, not on the agenda. Firms like Cadburys were British and a job was for life. Cameras used films and computers, the Internet, solar panels and i-pods were unheard of. Global warming and the word stress were not in our vocabulary. Plus we knew of Al Green, but Al -Quaeda, never. Times past, but the memories linger on. In the words of Mary Hopkins, 'Those were the days, my friend, we thought they'd never end'. Perhaps, only perhaps she had a point.

*Used figuratively in the 1850's and first used in print in 'Tom Brown at Oxford'. 'Oxford was a sort of Utopia to the Captain.....He continued to behold towers, and quadrangles, and chapels, through rose-coloured spectacles.' And at the risk of being utterly pedantic, the word is coloured, Yahoo, not colored! Just another example of life in 2010, American style.

Are You a Giver or Taker of Advice.

Advice Opinion as to what could or should be done.

To recommend, suggest, inform, give advice.

In life we seem to be bombarded with advice. We constantly are given it and we can't resist giving it. For example:

Moderation in all things.

If you don't ask you don't get.

If you believe you can do it you will.

Treat others as you would like to be treated.

Expect the best but be prepared for the worst.

Whatever we read or study, advice is never far away. The Bible tells us 'What God has yoked together, let no man tear apart.' Charles Dickens, via Mr Micawber teaches us the virtues of solvency. 'Annual income, £20, annual expenditure £20 nought and six, result misery.'

Dale Carnegie's 'How to Win Friends and Influence People' was second only to the Bible for many years after its publication in 1937.

Magazines are full of agony columns purporting to teach us how to live with each other. 'Don't go to bed angry at each other' is probably the only repeatable advice I dare mention. Some of the antics talked about nowadays are surely not physically possible!)

As parents we can't resist it. I well remember the trials and tribulations of bringing up two daughters. Thus when my youngest discovered boys in the middle of her GCE's what was my priceless advice. 'Carry on as you are and you'll finish up working behind the counter of the Co-op.' (Our local Co-op was not exactly a glamorous place to work but it was still pretty patronising of me.) Mind you, she finished up teaching, probably a wiser choice, if only just!

My own upbringing was rather unusual. I was orphaned by the age of thirteen and from then on taken in by Uncle Walter and Aunt Clara, for which I will be eternally grateful. They did their best, but being an independent little so and so I suppose it was never easy for them. In these unusual circumstances I do not remember being offered much advice by anyone. Walt and Clara did their best but were probably flumoxed by a stroppy teenager's arrival in their midst. So I meandered through life, oblivious and usually uncaring. Only once do I remember Clara attempting to advise.

Sex instruction was not a strong point in my youth. I remember vaguely a school biology lesson mentioning the sexual arrangements of the amoebo, Only I can't remember the details and the dreaded word sex was probably not mentioned. But Clara's sex instruction was brief, non explicit but very much to the point.

'Keep your pencil in your pocket' I grasped immediately.

'Don't go on to Spondon when you can get off at Borrowash' was much more succinct, a cryptic instruction I never fully grasped but remember to this day.

I was probably in my late teens when Aunt Clara did her duty and uttered the immortal words. The subject was never mentioned again. Of any case We managed perfectly well from puberty, thank you very much, courtesy of viewing farm animals and expertly instructed by local village girls probably eager for teaching experience. Happy days!

Can you remember giving advice as a parent. And what advice you have received has stayed with you longest.