My musings often return to the 1970s – with its pervy teachers, run-down buildings, fizzy beer, stodgy food, dodgy motors, superannuated trains, racism, terrorism, hooliganism, sexism, anarcho-syndicalism, snobbery, prog-rockery… and shattered dreams.

A tranquil moment, 41 Bullingdon Road, Oxford (1979)

Not that the 1980s were much better

Passport photo by Jim Chambers, 2 Pulker Close, Oxford (1982)

But you have to laugh or else you’d cry. I’ve got over the worst moments of the ’70s, but the ’80s are still a bit raw. But at least we didn’t have Covid-19 blighting our lives.

I post every two or three weeks. I write about 1,000 words on average.