I’m not sure why, but I’m feeling pretty nostalgic – missing bus conductors and God

That’s Grafton Street believe it or not.

I’m feeling nostalgic.

I think it comes from that ennui brought on by the lockdown. 

I know it’s not quite like being in prison. I don’t have a pool table for example.

But sometimes, when I’m sitting here my mind wanders back and I think of things that are long gone and that I still miss.

Shopping in shops is one thing.

I used to shop on line but I think if and when we get the green light I’ll go back to shopping in shops.

It’s partially because I enjoy it – that is to say I enjoy it when I’m shopping for myself which generally means I’m in a bookshop or a music store. I cannot abide clothes shops and my trouble with supermarkets is that I buy everything.

There’s no magic about shopping on line and if you ask me or, indeed, ask many of my friends, it seems that about half the time, what eventually arrives is a disappointment. Sometimes, it’s the wrong thing altogether. And anyway, Jeff Bezos doesn’t need my money.

Another thing I miss is motorists stopping at red traffic lights.

OK. I gave up on cyclists years ago.

But it seems to me that when a light turns red these days it’s taken as a signal to press down on the accelerator and speed on through. And I don’t care if it reeks of 1984, I’d love to see cameras installed at every traffic light in the city.

And while I’m on transport, I miss the old green buses, the ones with a platform at the back. I remember as a teenager, often running after a bus as it took off from the stop and grabbing the rail and hopping on – sometimes with the bus conductor helping me.

And that’s another thing I miss. Bus conductors. We used to have a great one on the 46A who’d sing his way to Dun Laoghaire and back.

I miss television reporters who told us the news and didn’t feel the need to act it out, pointing and things, waving their arms all over the place, making faces, walking around and generally looking pretty damned stupid if you ask me which they don’t which is a shame.

And I miss pop music that doesn’t contain foul language. 

I can’t believe some of the music my daughter listens to. As Mrs Doyle might have said it’s f*** this and f*** that all the way through.

I can’t imagine what would have happened if the Beatles had released She F***ing Loves You or if the Stones had sung I Can’t Get No F***ing Satisfaction.

And I miss manners. They’ve gone out of fashion completely.

Like God. I kind of miss God. Yes, I know a lot of people gave Him a bad name over the years. But I still think He helped to keep order about the place.

Nostalgia.

Maybe it’s the US election that’s making me nostalgic.  

Maybe it’s the Trump Factor – maybe I’m thinking back to when US Presidents were decent men which more or less means 1977-81 when Jimmy Carter was President. 

And…

…I think that’s about it.

Anyway I think I need a break from these damned election results.

So I might watch a movie.

Something modern.

Like Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

Well, 1961 is modern isn’t it?

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