So yep, here we are, into the latest calender
year. Another year closer to the major
automobile manufacturing companies
removing the fuel injection systems and
replacing them with electric things, and
another year closer to my MotoGP saint,
Valentino Rossi, deciding that it is time
to clamber off the bike and maybe put
someone else on it… in a team he can
become manager of.
He’s 40 now so while he is still a hugely
marketable star and draws hundreds of
thousands through the turnstiles the
time must come. I wonder if, back in 2000,
he thought he would still be battling on
the motorcycle racing front line in two
decades time? I think not, although he has
a constitution as strong as his skill levels so
maybe the doctor will still be buckling the
lid up in 2022? But that’s a long way away,
or is it? My brother and I were nattering
about the past couple of years and came
to the same conclusion. Where did they
go? We also came to the same conclusion
that time surges by faster as you age. When
you’re a little kid Christmas Day also take an
age to arrive. It feels like a thousand years
away.
But when you edge into the dear old 60s
it arrives in the blink of an eye as you realise
you haven’t actually got around to getting a
few pressies. That happens to me every year,
and if it happens to you and the time has
almost run out to buy a few things just get
gift vouchers. Job done.
Or if it’s for a kid or teenager just get a pad,
a pencil and some envelopes and suggest
they put the text-machine tablet they have
effectively sewn to their hands away and
write their chum out of town a letter.
Mind you, it’ll probably take a week to get
there given the pegging back of postal
services. Buy hey, what’s a few more days.
It’s only passing time.