In praise of… getting older

I was reflecting this evening on how much my life has changed in recent years. It’s Saturday night. Ten years ago I would have been out with a group of friends in Clapham or maybe Angel or maybe even Brixton. We would have consumed vast quantities of alcohol, smoked many, many cigarettes, then gone back to someone’s flat to carry on doing the same until the early hours. I would have spent the next day recovering – horizontally – on the sofa, vowing to never do it again. Until the next weekend that is.

But today, a week away from my 36th birthday, life is very different indeed. At about 6.45pm, after In The Night Garden on CBeebies, we gave our son (who will be a year old on 20th December) a bath and put him to bed. I then cooked a dinner of meatballs and spaghetti with a warmed baguette. Thereafter we watched Strictly Come Dancing (Mrs Sane has long been a fan of the show, while I had zero interest for six years. This time round I have – bafflingly – become something of a fan). Throughout I was drinking a very fine Cabernet Sauvignon, purchased from Waitrose this afternoon.

Comfort food, mainstream television and wine. The spirit of rock ‘n roll debauchery is very much alive in this house as you can see. I’m like Keith Richards to the power of John Bonham with a light dusting of Jimi Hendrix.

I realise I have become very suburban and middle class. Let me tell you, I don’t mind that one bit.


Centrist. Atlanticist. Dry liberal. Anti-totalitarian. Post-ideological pragmatist. Child of The Enlightenment. Toucan.

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Citizen Sane
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