There’s a War on, You Know

Just to be clear, there’s a war on.

It’s not a Special Military Operation, or a Peacekeeping Mission. It’s a war. The brainchild of a real-life Bond villain (with more than a passing resemblance to Doby the House Elf), whose skewed view of the world does not include the country of Ukraine on the map, and who therefore decided to send in his tanks, bombs and guns to bring his fever-dream to fruition. The real-world result of his actions is that, mere days ago, millions of people were peacefully going about their business—employees looking forward to meeting up with their mates after work, young mothers bathing their babies and tucking them into bed before settling down on the sofa with their partners and a glass of wine to watch their favourite TV show, children trudging to and from school either looking forward to or dreading another day of math and science lessons—and now, all of that has been suddenly, and brutally, wiped out. In too many cases, forever.

It’s an horrific war, made more-so by it being so unnecessary. The human cost is already high and will, I fear, go much higher before it is over. How long that will be is anyone’s guess: a month, years, a decade? We watch, with fear and hope, as the Ukrainians fight valiantly against an overwhelming foe, but always, in the backs of our minds, is the fact that they are fighting against an army controlled by a man who has no soul (just look at his eyes if you don’t believe me), who cannot countenance defeat, and who holds the most terrifying trump card imaginable.

And the problem with that is, there is nothing—nothing whatsoever—funny about that, and this blog, while not always laugh-out-loud funny, or even mildly amusing at times, does strive to be light-hearted. This is where I want people to come when they are tired of the topsy-turvy world order and want to forget, for a few minutes, that things are not all they could, or should, be. My purpose is not to pretend the war doesn’t exist, I just think it’s good to look away from the doom-and-gloom media for a few moments and focus on other things.

This current crisis brings to mind the fact that, twenty years ago, when I arrived on these shores, the World Order had also been recently upset. 9/11 took place two weeks after my first trip abroad, and a month prior to my second. The difference in air travel between those two dates was astounding, both in the security of the airports and the insecurity of the passengers (mostly, me). But I did it, and I ended up moving over here on the first of March 2002 (so, happy 20th anniversary to me!) and I have not been back (except for visits, of course) since.

And now, on this auspicious anniversary, the World Order is once again, upset. In fact, the World Order hadn’t yet recovered from the two years (and counting) of the COVID pandemic, and here we are with another one to replace it already. In fact, that is one of the lesser horrible, unintended outcomes of this current crisis: it has ended the pandemic in Britain. Not many days ago, we were still being treated to a nightly account of how many people were sick, in hospital, and dying, and how it was bringing the NHS to its knees. Overnight, that disappeared, so now, apparently, the Coronavirus Era has ended. Just in time for us to travel to the US.

Yup, we’re actually going to attempt flying in all this mess. It’s a trip we’ve put off for two years now, having been postponed due to the last crisis (but so far—fingers crossed—not effected by this one) and I admit to feeling a bit guilty at looking forward to doing something as mundane as playing with my grandchildren while the world is in such a state, as if we should all be in continual mourning.

But the fact is, for much of the world, life is still going on, and we continue to look forward to drinks with our mates, quiet nights in with our family, and the thousand other tiny pleasures that make life worth living. And so, I will continue to invite you here, where you can pause, put the troubles of the world behind you (“Don’t mention za war!” — yes, I have been here that long) for a few moments, and give your flagging reserves a chance to recuperate before you turn again to face reality.

We all hope for a better world, but while we are hoping (and doing what little we can to help) it’s important that we enjoy the one we are in.