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Finding Happy

The world about me is more cheerful. It’s noticeable. It really is. People are happier, and less bothered by other people. Lockdown has come to an end, and despite all the chatter about ‘end of lockdown anxiety’, most people have emerged from their caves and started going about their business as normal. People have stopped dying all about us, and we’re all less likely to get upset by that mindless proportion of the population who choose to take needless risks with other people’s lives.

Sure, there are a few super anxious folk who are refusing to leave the safety of their home. Some of them are still engaged in a degree of curtain twitching and note taking. But they’ll find their way back to normal in their own time. In the meantime, leisure travel on the railways has suddenly returned to pre-pandemic levels. And I suddenly have work to do, once again. Gosh, this will take some getting used to.

So we’re all very cheerful, even though infections are rising exponentially once again. The key difference is that this time the dreaded virus is making its way through a population where the oldies and feeblies have been well and truly vaccinated, and the youngsters just have no sense of their own mortality. Young people since the dawn of time have quite cheerfully headed off towards certain death with a smile on their face and a spring in their step. This bizarre quality is literally the only thing that makes war possible.

I suspect the government will just let the virus rip and see what happens. But you can never really be sure what they’re going to do. I don’t imagine they have much idea of what they’re going to do, beyond the fact that it almost certainly won’t be what they said they were going to do yesterday. But we mustn’t grumble. This is the expected consequence of electing a certain type of person to a position of power.

The twits have decreed that I shan’t be going off on a foreign jaunt this month. Technically, going somewhere is easy enough. It’s the coming back that is the problem. Copenhagen, Cairo, Cleveland, Canada and Cambodia are off the cards. So, Cotswolds, here we come…

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Summer 2021

Good news. Summer has at last arrived. It has been an awfully long time coming. We were beginning to worry that we might not have a summer this year. The photo was taken this morning at my club, having just gone for a swim and spa session. That’s the first hole of the golf course, which looks glorious under a blue sky. I’ve been thinking about cancelling my gym and swim membership. Perhaps I shouldn’t. Perhaps I should hand over an extra £30 a month to have golf added to my account. I could buy some golfing bats off Facebook for about £50.

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Mexile’s Law

I rather like laws. The Rule of Law. Moore’s Law. The many laws of physics, all fascinating. I watched LA Law because it was filmed in Nicam stereo sound, and my new tangled TV set at the time was a Nicam set. But Murphy’s Law made for better viewing. The 1971 Peter O’Toole flick, not the later Bronson monstrosity.

Then there’s Godwin’s Law, which states that the longer an online conversation goes on for, the more likely an analogy to Hitler or the Nazis will crop up. It’s a law that has as much evidence to support it as most scientific laws.

I’m a fan of balance, and so I would like to propose a new law that focuses on the other European mega tyrant of the 20th century. It’s a law that’s born from the coronavirus pandemic. It states simply that the longer an online conversation about Covid19 goes on for, the more likely an analogy will be made that dismisses millions of deaths as a statistical irrelevance.

I propose we call it Mexile’s law. And we can marvel at the irony that those who are likely to mostly strongly adhere to it, are usually the first to renounce the politics of its origin.

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