Many years ago, someone much older and wiser than me gave me this advice…

“Phil, there’s no point in looking back at the past. It can’t be altered. Never dwell on what was. Look forward to what might be!” …. Which I always thought was a strange thing for a history teacher to say.

However, I’ve never forgotten those words of his, which always pop back into my thoughts around this time of the year when TV, radio and the press indulge in analysing the most significant events of the previous 12 months.

I know I’m not alone when I say there have been years that I’ve been glad to see the back of for any number of reasons.

When you’ve been on this planet for a few decades, it’s inevitable that some years will bring more good things to your front door than others.

Though I would quickly add that my local pizza delivery shop has never failed to bring good things to my front door…very often with extra free garlic bread.
Grazie!

Now I’ve been around the block a few times and realise continuous good health, success and happiness isn’t guaranteed to everyone, I no longer tempt fate by saying on January 1st- “I’m glad last year’s over. This year can’t be anywhere near as bad!”

Oh yes it can! That mischievous little devil ‘Fate’ has caught me out more than once after I’ve said those words.

Apart from getting stink-o on cheap sherry on New Year’s Eve while watching Jools Holland’s Hootenanny and regretting it the following day (not drinking cheap sherry – watching Jools Holland!) there are several other traditions associated with the turn of the year.

They include vastly improving your mindfulness and wellbeing by never again watching “Eastenders”; taking out a gym membership you’ll cancel in May; and making New Year’s Resolutions.

I only make one each year – which is… “Never make a New Year’s Resolution”.

Oops! I just realised that means I do make a New Year’s Resolution!
I shouldn’t have opened that bottle of cheap sherry!

I’ve gone soft, I think. Well that’s what I’ve been told.  Strange as it may seem, but I have a confession to make.  Our cocker spaniel was on my Christmas present list.

I know I’m not alone as millions of people include their pets in the Christmas festivities as pets have now been elevated to family member status.  Now when did this all happen?

To be honest with you, I’m convinced that the reason for this is that they are more appreciative, less argumentative, more loyal, less moody, love unconditionally and don’t pout for weeks on end like their human counterparts.

Pet lovers are all around us and the sale of pet toys and goodies have rocketed in the past five years.  So, clearly, the evidence is out there.

Personally, I draw the line at pet jumpers and diamanté studded collars.  But yes, people are buying such items.

My spaniel, however, prefers a onesie.  Who’d have thought?

This time of year, restaurants and pubs are full of families, friends and work colleagues happily quaffing foaming ale and feasting on turkey dinners with all the trimmings – whatever they are.

However, amongst each group of diners there’s often someone ‘quaffing’ soft drinks rather than foaming ale – the designated driver.

When vegan organisations go out for Christmas lunch, do 99% of the members munch on salad while one of their group tucks into meat, potatoes, Yorkshire pudding and roast potatoes – the designated diner?

This year I’ve noticed more people than ever in restaurants and cafes constantly checking their smart phones instead of chatting with whoever’s sat opposite them.  This unsociable activity has now spread to Christmas lunch.

Groups of people out for a festive meal spend little time laughing and groaning at Christmas cracker jokes and avoid potentially interesting conversations that distract them from looking down at their phone, placed next to the knife, fork and soup spoon like a glowing item of cutlery.

Just what amazingly important messages are these people expecting?
Next week’s winning lottery numbers?

My thought that this obsession is a type of addiction was confirmed in a new study by Kings College, London which revealed that one quarterof young people are so dependent on their smart phone that when denied access to it they become panicky and upset – similar behaviour to addicts deprived of alcohol or drugs.

The study also said that these youngsters are unable to control the number of hours spent on their phones and this could be linked with other problems such as stress, lack of sleep, a depressed mood and falling behind in their education.

There’s been a lot of really helpful media coverage regarding young people’s mental health problems, many of which are rooted in the same deep anxieties experienced by generations of teenagers. Exam stress; self-consciousness; needing to be accepted within our peer group, etc.

If a communication device causes additional anxiety when they’re denied access to it and causes them to be depressed when they have access to it, can it truly be called a ‘smart’phone?

Why don’t Christmas shoppers really look like they do in the adverts on TV?

Smiling families, matching jumpers and scarves, calmly strolling around the shops, snow gently falling around the town (they never seem to carry ANY bags though, have you noticed?)

Now, here is the reality . . .

The city centre is packed, people all walking in different directions (always the opposite way to me), there are men being dragged around shops they obviously don’t want to be in, children are screaming . . . all surrounded by the same jolly Christmas music in every shop.

Then we have department stores doubling up as saunas.
It’s freezing outside so you have to wrap up, but as soon as you walk into a shop it hits you like one of the other half’s midlife flushes!

Oh yes – you can relate to this, can’t you?

It’s the children I feel most sorry for, strapped firmly into their pushchairs with only a Jenkins pastie for company (other pastie providers are available), so many shopping bags hanging on the back of the pushchair, both child and pastie are in danger of tipping backwards and being catapulted across Debenhams.

Happy shopping, my friends!