THE MEANING OF LIFE

I've mentioned before my surprise at today's young listing various electronic devices as 'essentials' before they think apparently of clothing or chairs or Marmite.  It just shows what these days we take for granted.  In my youth of course such devices didn't exist, so it's impossible to compare.  But I do remember deciding once that we couldn't afford a television or a telephone.  We chose to eat better.

So I was interested to see in a magazine interview that Cate Blanchett claimed that she was so poor when she was young that she couldn't afford a coffee every day.  So that is obviously what she  considers normal daily life.  It wasn't clear whether she had enough food to eat as well.

In another article, a journalist had recounted her experiences in the 'Celebrity' Big Brother House.  Never mind the bitching, the swearing, the sex, the uncouth behaviour generally, her criticism was about the standard of the toilet.  Maybe everything else passes as normal for her.

So I wonder what is essential for your daily life.  What can you not do without each day?  A television?  A daily coffee?  A clean toilet?  Personally I watch the TV in Currys, get my coffee free at Waitrose and use the loo in the community centre . . . 

KICKING THE HABITUE

You may remember me writing that I once went into a pub (wait for the rest of the sentence!  It isn't such an unusual event so far) and, whilst waiting for my drink, the barman suddenly shouted out, 'Hello Bill!  Happy birthday.'  All the locals had gathered to greet him and a jolly nice party atmosphere developed.  Everyone greeted Bill and offered him a drink.  In fact I suspect he didn't buy a drink all day.  I was so taken with that. 

Not with the free drinks I don't mean, although there was I admit a certain attraction in that, but it was the fact that the local community knew Bill, knew it was his birthday and wanted to celebrate it with him, and that moreover the barman also knew him well enough to greet him, that appealed and made my heart jump slightly with envy.  When I retire and settle down, that's what I want, I commented at the time.  I dearly want to live in a community, to visit my local and have the barman (or preferably an attractive barmaid) greet me with, 'Hello Neil.  Pint of the usual?'  I will feel I have arrived.

Part of the reason for this is of course that I have spent my life wandering the world (which I shall continue to do in fact, mostly because it is what excites and motivates me) and clearly there is somewhere within me a gene which hankers after being settled, retiring, not just from work, but from travelling too, from being forever unknown in strange cities or empty countrysides.

But, hang on a moment, I can hear you cry, you are retired.  Yes, OK, I don't engage in any salaried occupation, but I do drive for my local charity, I am getting more involved in the administration of my local bridge club, and I do lead walking groups around the world.  One day maybe I'll stop doing those things and just sit at home.  I could do that.  I'd probably last about a week before I started walking off somewhere, or learning a new trade, or building an extension to the house, or joining the local movie-making club, but I could do it.

But that feeling of belonging, when you walk into your local and people in there greet you by name . . .  Wonderful!  I must say it has begun to happen a little here.  I do now often meet people in the street who say hello.  But, when I wander into Hemingways or the Crown and Cushion, nothing -  beyond normal politeness (except for that lad with the bleached hair who keeps saying, 'no probs'; he needs to improve his customer friendliness I always think).

We went into Petersfield today.  It was market day and The George was packed at 10.30.  I counted 60 people in the bar and the garden was full, as were the few table outside at the front, so I reckon 100 people having coffee, breakfast, brunch, etc.  Well, I don't expect anyone there to remember me by name, but actually the atmosphere was really comfortable.  I wondered then whether what I really want is comfort instead of that frisson of awkwardness that you feel in an unfamiliar establishment.

But, no, I think it's the human contact, that sense that, not only do you feel have you been accepted into a community, but also that you have welcomed by its other members, a private club maybe in which strangers aren't included, however nice they are and however friendly the welcome, and one in which you don't just wear a badge or a T-shirt, but where the individual participants have interaction and genuine personal contact with each other.

With these thoughts as ever in my mind, the other day I went into the chemist.  'Hello Mr Hook.  How are you today?' smiled the pharmacist.  Not what I dreamt of for my retirement, but maybe I have now arrived?

RISE OF THE MACHINES

I was struck by the news that Britons’ spending on downloads finally broke through the £1b ceiling last year.  This is not just music (in fact about a half is gaming downloads which have risen dramatically), but  it is interesting to note that sales of CDs fell by 15%, at the same time as music downloads rose by 15%.  There is a clear migration from concrete products to the ethereal.

Personally, I received the usual pile of CDs for Christmas.  And I was very happy to find them all under the tree and in my stocking and to unwrap and enthuse over each one.  I’m not sure how I would feel if all I received was an addition to my iPod or a Spotify card.  Actually, that’s not just the old fogey view – I see that sales of vinyls (records, not floor coverings) also increased last year, so someone must also like to handle their music, not just hear it.

But this blog is not about music exactly; it’s more about the way we are allowing technology to take over our life.  Maybe that’s the old fogey speaking.  But wait, I’m the one with the wisdom, the one who’s supposed to inform and nurture the next generation.

My CD collection is something to share with all the family.  We sit and listen together, me tapping my feet and singing along, they groaning and rolling their eyes.  I also like to invite the neighbours in to look at it in envy.  I have hours of personal enjoyment with it too, rearranging it, reading the sleeve notes, checking my musicology memory.  Not to mention playing the discs.  But the point is that a download is a much more private, antisocial animal.  It is possible to pop your pad or pod into a dock and to listen to it en famille, but on the whole we don’t do that.  We listen while we jog, or strip down the car and reassemble it, or sit on the train, and, when we don’t, we play games, ourselves against the computer.

There was a survey a little while ago which asked which items we couldn’t do without in our lives.  The idea was to look at family incomes and expenditures with the Recession in mind.  Top of the list of course was the cell phone.  I say ‘of course’ because I don’t expect anyone is surprised by that.  But, if your income is restricted and you have commitments such as rent, utilities, fares, etc, maybe first on your list might be a kettle, or a frying pan.  I think second on the list was a television.  I can see much more of an argument for that being valuable (I’m thinking of a small, inexpensive model naturally, since money is tight), with its regular news, informative programming and entertainment for all the family.  But the fact remains that we have come to see these items as essentials to life, rather than aids or luxuries.  As I say, a television can promote family gatherings, but I suspect that that is not the most common use for it these days.  The cellphone meanwhile has become a sort of hi-tech security blanket.  We carry it around in our hands, we consult it constantly, we worry if it doesn't play its Gangnam Style ringtone every five minutes, and of course it's our access to our social network.  It could be considered essential, but actually it's keeping us from our social group, from the pub or coffee shop (or distracting us when there), it has replaced talking to friends directly.  And it has replaced asking questions; why be embarrassed by not knowing, when you can look it up on your iPhone Wiki or OMG! app?

I noted the other day that baby Rooney (footballer’s 3 year-old) was criticised in the press for having its own iPad.  I can see the difficulty of buying presents for a child when you have so much money that it already has everything, and I am not going to rant about the appropriateness of a 3 year-old with an iPad.  Normally, one wouldn’t buy expensive, breakable toys for children; more normally you would buy them crayons, books, footballs, family games.  Of course baby Rooney already has lots of those, but guiding him into the solitary world of the computer gamer is not helping him to interact with the real world.   It’s another example of advanced technology being considered an everyday item, but also replacing humans.  Rather than being lifestyle-assisting, it has become a substitute for that lifestyle or a lifestyle of its own.  The only life it’s assisting is that of the mother, who is in fact the one that should be interacting with the child at this age and helping it into the real world.

When I went up to London on the train recently, there was a young mother sitting across the aisle with a child in a pushchair in front of her.  It was probably about 2.  It was tiny and didn’t do much anyway.  The mother sat the whole way (about an hour) holding an iPad in front of him, showing a movie.  Admittedly the film was The Gruffalo, but apart from the occasional soporific stare at the screen, the child looked out of the window, around the carriage, at the man sitting next to Mum, anythwhere but at the movie, which I imagine was incomprehensible to him anyway.  OK, I know how difficult young kids can be on journeys, but this one was fine, without the iPad.  Here again, the iPad had become a substitute for mothering, not an aid.  

And it's much the same with television.  It's so much easier sitting little Justin in front of a TV cartoon show than to interact with him.  You don't need a governess, or a nanny, or even a mother, if Tinky Winky or Igglepiggle can do the job for you, without either of you even having to speak.

I had an interesting experience this week, to highlight another contrast.  I know that many people do all their shopping online; I have bought online too many times and very successfully.  We decided we had had enough of all this rain and looked on the Last Minute website for a good deal last minute holiday in the sun.  Well, we found one – next week, very cheap, half board, sun and sand, flights and transfers included.  But, it being a package flight, baggage was to be paid for.  We were expected to pay £48 per person for a 15kg suitcase.  Occasionally we have made do with one suitcase for a holiday, especially if it saves £48 for an additional case, but 15kg?!  My shoes and shirts alone weigh more than that!

So we rang the company.  On a telephone.  And spoke to a person.  ‘Ah’, she said.  ‘I think I can do better than that for you.  Yes, here we are.  20kg each for a total of £48.’  Needless to say, despite my innate aversion to paying airlines to take my suitcase with me, we booked the holiday there and then.  But we didn’t do it online, that would have been too expensive, we booked it with a real person, not on a computer or a smart phone, but on a dumb landline telephone!  Maybe online shopping does have its limitations.  

Anyway, technology has its place.  A list of my life essentials would probably include a microwave and a refrigerator.  Even those I could frankly do without, but 'most important' let's say.  After that, I’d have to think a bit.  Computer?  No, I can use the one in the library for free.  Telephone?  No, the only calls I get are from double glazing salesmen.  If I need to ring anyone, there’s a telephone box down the road.  Car?  No, it’s often quicker (and healthier) to walk.  Newspaper?  No.  Books?  Again the library comes to my assistance free.  Music?  Well, yes, but, if I had a radio, that would give me enough access.  A television would be nice, but I tend to watch the Freeview music channels or listen to the radio on the TV quite often anyway.  So, a radio.  That’s all we need in life then – a refrigerator, a microwave, and a radio.  Oh, and some crayons.