A GOOD TIME

In my view “Having a good time” implies an enjoyable activity in the company of others. I think our parents, grandparents and earlier ancestors were better than we are at having this valuable “good time” as their expectations were simpler and above all they were much more sociable than we are. For example, it is surely a sad sight to see young people now hunched over their Smart-phones, playing entertaining games perhaps, but essentially isolating themselves from their surroundings through the unshared nature of their pleasures. The American Constitution sets out three abiding principles – Life, Liberty and The Pursuit of Happiness – and the third is in some danger of slipping through our fingers.

Naturally much has changed since the 1920 - 1970s period, no doubt mostly for the better. We are much wealthier and amusements are now served up ready-packaged and instantly accessible; music in abundance, food at the click of a mouse, travel to exotic destinations as easy as any other web choice. Yet the very convenience of it all is at the root of my unease. Our forefathers made their own music, tinkling on the family piano or learning the rudiments of the fiddle, accordion or (here in Greece anyway) the mandolin. They would sing too without self-consciousness and a gathering of family and friends could represent a genuinely “good time”, some shining, others admiring, others stimulated to contribute more next time round.

Communal eating was another “good time” – Sunday family lunch was an unbreakable date which married children were often expected to join with their spouses in tow. Every day saw the family eating together, maybe in no great style, but a shared moment with conversation and gossip flowing. For many families, indispensable Mother would take much trouble baking a crusty meat pie or perfecting a stew, with delicious aromas filling the home, rounding things off with a tasty dessert. How many families eat communally nowadays? It is surely not blind nostalgia to say that something important has been lost.

A Family Picnic

Travel too was once an adventure. How much we looked forward to the summer picnic, all cold chicken, that tantalising Thermos, fizzy drinks, boiled eggs and sandwiches! On Sundays many families “went for a run” in the car, often recently acquired and proudly driven. We did not expect to see the Cote d’Azur, rather a local beauty spot, maybe somewhere to stop for that scrumptious ice-cream cone and to play a juvenile I-Spy in the back of the car with Mother and siblings. This was another “good time” – maybe easily enough overshadowed by a lavish trip to the Galapagos – but still fun and memorable (and much cheaper!)

The oldies’ pleasures were varied. They loved to dance, a most sociable pastime, and mastered the steps of the latest craze. They played cards, Bridge, Canasta and all manner of variants, Pontoon, Newmarket, rummy and played the old games Halma, Mah-jong, Monopoly, draughts or Scrabble. The more erudite played chess, but nobody was ignored or left out. They would go to a live theatre performance, seeing real artistes in all their splendour or vulnerability. They would play football, go hiking or hare coursing and retire to a comfortable public house probably drinking a tad too much bitter. Indeed they had “a good time”.

The present generation too often retreats alone to a darkened room to surf the web, to send messages or contribute anonymously to FaceBook, to download movies to “have a good time” in cold isolation. The young have their own TVs and a myriad of other gadgets. Their contact with their families can be spasmodic and irregular. Parents are at fault too – Fathers work excessively long hours, Mothers work, as is their right, but children are starved of that human contact which civilises, informs and broadens the horizon of young minds. I was always taught to converse, to connect – may that motto resound through the 21^st Century – we will have our “good time” together, striking sparks off our companions in mutual love, respect and understanding.

SMD

16.02.15

Copyright © Sidney Donald 2015