REMEMBER, REMEMBER, THE 5TH OF NOVEMBER? NO THANKS, I'D RATHER FORGET IT - AND WISH EVERYONE ELSE WOULD TOO...

You know you're getting old when the things that enthralled you as a kid no longer hold any magic for you - except perhaps in memory.  Take BONFIRE NIGHT for example.  I don't mind seeing and hearing fireworks when I'm out and about, but I find the noise irritating and intrusive when I'm ensconced in my house trying to relax and unwind.  The actual night is bad enough, but when you have to put up with continual explosions for at least a week before and a week after (sometimes longer), it goes beyond the pale.  I think fireworks should, by law, only be allowed on November 5th between 6 and 7.30 pm.  Anyone setting them off before or after should be heavily fined (or, failing that, given a good kicking).  What's more, they should only go on sale three days before the 5th.

HALLOWE'EN's another one.  This October 31st, I sat in the house with the lights off to deter any kids and their parents coming to the door.  Not that I think they would, but I wasn't prepared to take any chances.  It's not just that I've got no time for kids as a rule (unless they're quiet, well-behaved children of friends), but I didn't want to be subjected to their disappointment if I'd been placed in the position of having to turn them away empty-handed.

What a miserable old git I've turned into, but I just can't help myself.  It's not really fair, considering how much I enjoyed Hallowe'en and Bonfire Night when I was a kid.  I've tried to analyse the reasons for this shift in my attitude to these two events, and here's what I've come up with.

Not being a kid or a parent, I've got no reason to participate in the celebrations in any way, so therefore find them an intrusive nuisance to my routine, to say nothing of my peace and quiet.  I'm also struck by the fact they remind me that my childhood effectively ended in the previous house to this one.  Not that I realised it back then, as the transition process of growing up appears seamless at the time, but, in retrospect, we tend to divide each phase of our lives into segments and view them as individual links in a chain (that have become separated), as opposed to the single unrolling ball of string that life once seemed to be.

It was in my previous house that I last went out on Hallowe'en;  it was in my previous home that I last celebrated Bonfire Night;  and it was in my previous abode that I last crept downstairs with my brother in the early hours of Christmas day to see what Santa had brought us.  My tentative conclusions are therefore that I'm angry and bitter at no longer being a child, in much the same way that the lead actor in a TV show feels when he realises he's gone as far in his role as he can, and that the new young supporting actor is getting much more attention and fan mail, and will soon supplant him as the main star of the show.  I'm sort of half-joking of course, but perhaps there's more truth in my imaginative assessment than I realise.

Any thoughts on the matter, Criv-ites?  Let rip in the comments section.

CAN YOU TRACK A SOUND, DOCTOR? NO...?

Y'know, I'm quite partial to the original motion picture soundtrack of the first JAMES BOND movie, Dr. NO.  Although I didn't acquire it 'til around 1973 or '74, it reminds me just as much of the '60s as it does the '70s, which you might think is no big deal considering when it was first released.  There's more to it than that however, and let me try and explain just what I think it is, in the unlikely event you might be remotely interested.

First of all, I was only a young teenager in the early '70s, and to me at least, the stylish differences between the two decades weren't all that obvious.  This was because there were still many '60s cars on the roads, and, certainly where adults were concerned, clothes fashions were pretty much the same.  My grandparents still dressed in clothes that could have come from the '30s to the '50s, and my parents' apparel was much as it had always been since as far back as I was capable of remembering.

Another aspect that helped dull the differences between the decades was the fact that, right up until the late '70s, the furniture in our house had graced our three previous homes since 1960, and mainly dated from the '50s (and perhaps even from before I was born).  As this was 'the norm' for me, my childhood and teenage years seemed to take place in an unchanging, ageless environment, where the dividing lines between the decades didn't really exist.  They might well have for others of course, but not to me.  (It would be interesting to know if my friends from the period considered my house [and room] decidedly old-fashioned, or accepted it as normal in the same way that I did.)

So, because the accoutrements of my bedroom in the '70s didn't reflect the style of the period, it was as if I operated in a timeless bubble that was immune to the changing fashions of the passing years.  I've probably overstated the case in order to make the point, but that's why, whenever I listen to that Dr. No soundtrack, I have a real sense of the '60s around me, and associate it as much with the decade it first appeared as the one in which I first heard it.

Is there something in your life that reminds you of an earlier time than the one in which you first acquired or experienced it, or do you think I'm merely babbling like a lunatic?  If the former, feel free to express yourself in the comments section.

(BOND) BABE Of The DAY - JULIE EGE...

It's lovely JULIE EGE, deciding

on her first task of the day.  Shower me

with kisses or make me a fry-up brekkie?

Which should she do first?  I'm easy, so

 I'll just leave it up to her.