(14/04/2020)
Some of us have been eagerly awaiting Century 21 since watching “futuristic” Gerry Anderson shows in the 1970s. When the actual date switched over 20 years ago we were all laughing about the overreaction to a virus, the Millennium Bug.
Since then, with the exception of 9/11, the 21st Century has pretty much looked like the end of the 20th. Same stupid types of people in charge, same stupid working practices, same stupid economics.
And initially it just looked like a month off work.
Otherwise I’ve been trying to relearn D&D, blogging about motorsport, watching old races and trying to binge on Netflix but it has been surprisingly hard. This post was also prompted by Dave Chen on the Westworld podcast who also has had a rough time concentrating. For the first two weeks regular exercise and avoid book reading seemed to be the way but as it has gone, as the vital routines I’d planned slowly dissolve into a yearning just to GET OUT.
It is difficult as many are saying, without any kind of structure, even from the sporting schedule, it is difficult to concentrate on anything outside the daily briefings and death count. Computer game sims of sports have become the actual sport in the space of six weeks.
Obviously working at the front line would be worse, and that's not even just the health staff. The death rate of bus drivers in London is a sobering stat.
Things might snap back to normal for a while but the principles have been established for the rest of the century. Having seen the effects on emissions, the age of mass commuting is over. That will have giant knock on effects to the economy in London and the housing market generally. The thrill of street food and claustrophobic mass gatherings might fade. Pubs might make a comeback after this as drinking at home might be repulsive for a while. Come to think of it anything other than sleeping at home might be repulsive for a while. Estate agents will have bumper decade as people try to permanently escape their prison cell of 2020. Relationship councillors and divorce lawyers will be a growth industry. And grief councillors obviously.
(14/04/2020)
Well it seems after keeping an impatient audience waiting since the dawn of the new millennium, in February 2020 the 21st century finally pulled back the curtains and marched on stage with a shocking new act, a revival of a horror show from 1918.
As one of the million internet articles I’ve read has noted, in a shockingly quick time we have left one historic era, the Post 9/11 period, and entered another. I’ve been wondering for some time why the 21sr century felt so much like the end of the 20th, and how much longer the Gaffa Tape Economics would continue to hold together.
And initially it just looked like a month off work.
Such was the avalanche of time you felt the need to immediately fill it with worthwhile stuff. As I txted to a young friend worried about how we would all get through this
“It’ll be a different world after and probably a better one - in the meantime if I don’t learn t play my guitar during this I’m going to sell it”
It would have been perhaps easier for me if I was at home in Devon rather than covering my partner in the urban Sout East. But probably not. I’ve already spent very long period alone in that location and it really didn’t do much for me. I might have been able to concentrate better without worrying about another person and her cats, but there are obvious benefits which outweigh the negatives.
One of the non obvious benefits was getting into Liza Tarbuck’s Saturday show on BBC Radio 2.
Even the worldwide lock in apocalypse we are going through could not make me a Radio 2 fan generally, but I have to say Tarbuck’s show, a favourite of my partner, has become a ritual, not just because of the wit and almost Pythonesque silliness, but a semi 6music ear for lost songs, and a psychic intuition for selecting the exact tune for the mood of that moment.
Tarbuck’s show the weekend before the months long lockdown, when we were all still slightly giddy and still in shock, ended with Vic Damone's version of Irving Berlin's Let’s Face The Music and Dance, which seemed to hit the note in March perfectly
"There may be trouble ahead
But while there's music and moonlight
And love and romance
Let's face the music and dance
Soon, we'll be without the moon
Humming a different tune, and then
There may be teardrops to shed
So while there's moonlight and music
And love and romance
Let's face the music and dance
Dance
Let's face the music and dance"
Five weeks later into the lockdown, when millions are wondering if the psychological effects of this will be permanent, a play of Radio 2 perennial Joan Amatradings 'Me Myself I' hit me like like an Exocet missile. Isolation is a problem for some, claustrophobia is a problem for others, loneliness is a worry for many. For those of us loners, used to living alone, who quite like isolation and regularly need to seek it out, finding ourselves trapped in the same building and absorbed into their world, even a loved one, for over a month, is not easy.
"I want to be by myself
I came in this world alone
Me myself I
I want to go to China
And to see Japan
I'd like to sail the oceans
Before the seas run dry"
Calling Tarbuck the herald of the 21st century is probably a but much but it is an unacknowledged gem. Tarbuck’s show also uses parts of John Barry’s Cotton Club as incidental music. That made me an instant fan.
It would have been perhaps easier for me if I was at home in Devon rather than covering my partner in the urban Sout East. But probably not. I’ve already spent very long period alone in that location and it really didn’t do much for me. I might have been able to concentrate better without worrying about another person and her cats, but there are obvious benefits which outweigh the negatives.
One of the non obvious benefits was getting into Liza Tarbuck’s Saturday show on BBC Radio 2.
Even the worldwide lock in apocalypse we are going through could not make me a Radio 2 fan generally, but I have to say Tarbuck’s show, a favourite of my partner, has become a ritual, not just because of the wit and almost Pythonesque silliness, but a semi 6music ear for lost songs, and a psychic intuition for selecting the exact tune for the mood of that moment.
Tarbuck’s show the weekend before the months long lockdown, when we were all still slightly giddy and still in shock, ended with Vic Damone's version of Irving Berlin's Let’s Face The Music and Dance, which seemed to hit the note in March perfectly
"There may be trouble ahead
But while there's music and moonlight
And love and romance
Let's face the music and dance
Soon, we'll be without the moon
Humming a different tune, and then
There may be teardrops to shed
So while there's moonlight and music
And love and romance
Let's face the music and dance
Dance
Let's face the music and dance"
Five weeks later into the lockdown, when millions are wondering if the psychological effects of this will be permanent, a play of Radio 2 perennial Joan Amatradings 'Me Myself I' hit me like like an Exocet missile. Isolation is a problem for some, claustrophobia is a problem for others, loneliness is a worry for many. For those of us loners, used to living alone, who quite like isolation and regularly need to seek it out, finding ourselves trapped in the same building and absorbed into their world, even a loved one, for over a month, is not easy.
"I want to be by myself
I came in this world alone
Me myself I
I want to go to China
And to see Japan
I'd like to sail the oceans
Before the seas run dry"
Calling Tarbuck the herald of the 21st century is probably a but much but it is an unacknowledged gem. Tarbuck’s show also uses parts of John Barry’s Cotton Club as incidental music. That made me an instant fan.
Otherwise I’ve been trying to relearn D&D, blogging about motorsport, watching old races and trying to binge on Netflix but it has been surprisingly hard. This post was also prompted by Dave Chen on the Westworld podcast who also has had a rough time concentrating. For the first two weeks regular exercise and avoid book reading seemed to be the way but as it has gone, as the vital routines I’d planned slowly dissolve into a yearning just to GET OUT.
It is difficult as many are saying, without any kind of structure, even from the sporting schedule, it is difficult to concentrate on anything outside the daily briefings and death count. Computer game sims of sports have become the actual sport in the space of six weeks.
Obviously working at the front line would be worse, and that's not even just the health staff. The death rate of bus drivers in London is a sobering stat.
Things might snap back to normal for a while but the principles have been established for the rest of the century. Having seen the effects on emissions, the age of mass commuting is over. That will have giant knock on effects to the economy in London and the housing market generally. The thrill of street food and claustrophobic mass gatherings might fade. Pubs might make a comeback after this as drinking at home might be repulsive for a while. Come to think of it anything other than sleeping at home might be repulsive for a while. Estate agents will have bumper decade as people try to permanently escape their prison cell of 2020. Relationship councillors and divorce lawyers will be a growth industry. And grief councillors obviously.
(14/04/2020)
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