The Times They Are...

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... a' Changin'. Well, here we are again at the tail end of October and time-shifted back to Greenwich Mean Time for yet another winter. Hence, I'm still sat here at effectively 22:15 British Summer Time, writing this. These days the changeover simply heralds the gloom of the coming cold season; whereas in my youth, as I've probably said before, the changing of the clocks signalled the start of the autumn party season and hanging about in brightly lit pubs and bars drinking copious quantities of falling-over beverages until the early hours of the morning. Those days are long gone: happily, in a bitter-sweet way; the salad days and high-life of youth having given way to a rather more sedate alcohol consumption of an evening with rather less of the concomitant collateral damage to the brain. One thing I would also remark upon, though, is the effective loss of the bi-annual ritual of forgetting to alter the clocks before bed: these days most of our timekeeping is updated for us in the background on our various devices while we sleep - or party - and those devices not so internet-connected can be adjusted accordingly by the prompting offered by those that are. Which is bit of a shame, really: yet another bit of silliness that has been erased from daily life by the rigour of the machine and its relentless marking out of our time on earth. There you go...

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