Giving up

Since Jenny and I gave up alcohol several months ago we're surprised how little we even think about alcohol. We never have any hankering for a glass of wine, and we can easily ignore the alcohol sections at the supermarkets. We just don't miss it.

It's strange that we've abandoned alcohol so easily, since we'd been drinking regularly from before we first met. We'd been cutting back a bit from our earlier days together when we'd consume a bottle of wine or more in an evening. But it never occurred to us to stop drinking, especially when all our friends drank.

Then one day in the spring we both realised that alcohol just wasn't doing anything for us any more, so why were we still guzzling it? Why not give it up? So we did. We were expecting it to be a bit of a struggle but we were amazed at how effortless it was.

It's saving us a lot of money of course, which is an added bonus. It was expensive enough just for the two of us, but if you're buying a round in the pub the cost is crazy.

Nobody has suggested that we're missing out by giving up alcohol, that we're party-poopers or strait-laced puritans. I suppose it helps that a lot of young people have gone teetotal, either for the health benefits or to save money or because they don't like being drunk. So rejecting alcohol has become somewhat fashionable.

Cheers!

Downsizing

Every so often someone suggests giving people in so-called over-large houses some sort of incentive to downsize to a smaller property.

It happened again yesterday on the TV programme Question Time, when someone debating the possibility of reducing the state pension proposed that if more people downsized they could manage on a smaller pension.

He suggested that people in very spacious houses like our own could be given an incentive to move to somewhere smaller - presumably some sort of financial grant.

Well, I enjoy living in a large house and I don't see why people like us should be singled out for our preference, especially when there are thousands of empty houses around the country that could be targeted instead. And how could you ensure that an "over-large" house went to a family and not another space-loving couple like us?

In any case, even a sizeable financial grant wouldn't make up for all the upheaval and hard work and stress of moving house.

We space-lovers are being turned into scapegoats for the continuing shortage of new homes. We're supposed to feel guilty for not "making do" with a much smaller house.

And if family-size houses are so badly needed, how come so many tiny apartments are being built?

Doggie devotion

It's still true that many people find their pets more soothing and reassuring than other people - maybe even their partners. A survey of 31,299 pet owners reveals 58 per cent of people find cats and dogs more comforting than people at stressful times, outranking spouses, friends and kids.

If you're going through some sort of crisis, the average dog won't give you a load of unasked-for advice, won't pretend to be sympathetic when they're not, won't tell you it's not as bad as you think, and won't tell you everything's going to be fine and just hang on in there.

The average dog will simply give you lots of love and affection until you're no longer at sixes and sevens and have sorted things out.

Of course there's a downside to such reliable devotion. A dog might wake you at 4 am demanding food. Or might empty your dinner plate when you're not looking. Or it might jump all over your visitors. And it won't do the washing-up.

Well, that's what I'm told at any rate. We don't actually have a dog so we can't tell you if all that's true or not. But I can certainly testify to a dog's unwavering love and affection, having experienced it many times when dogs are about. In fact a dog will give me enthusiastic affection even if we've never met before. 

A dog may not speak but it has many other virtues.

Now it's our turn

Over-tourism has come to Belfast. It took a while because (for obvious reasons) Belfast wasn't a popular tourist destination till a few years ago.

I was in the city centre last weekend and I noticed it was a lot more crowded than it used to be - too crowded. Many of those wandering around were clearly tourists and there were plenty of tourist coaches and sightseeing buses.

Belfast city centre isn't that big, unlike other cities. It soon fills up with people. Suddenly I'm having to negotiate large numbers of people rather than just walking along the street.

And it's only May, when you would expect the city centre still to be quite quiet. At this rate the peak tourist period of July and August is going to be even more crowded. How many more visitors can we comfortably accommodate?

This year we're due to receive 150 cruise ships, and a brand new cruise ship terminal is being built.

Naturally the tourist authority and the NI government want to see as many tourists as possible because it's good for the economy, and they don't really care if the city is being over-run.

But at least it's good to know that the outdated media image of Belfast (paramiltaries, bombs, guns etc) is no longer putting people off because they know Belfast has become a normal, thriving city with its trendy restaurants and coffee shops. Life moves on.

Pic: a walking tour outside (an unusually quiet) Belfast City Hall

A careless child

The recent slight damage to a £42 million Rothko painting in a Rotterdam museum by a careless child has once again led to debate about whether children should be allowed in art galleries.

Well, of course they should. It's always possible that an impulsive child will touch a painting or sculpture without thinking, and it's always possible that the art work will be immensely valuable and need careful restoration.

But that very remote possibility is insignificant compared to the mental and emotional benefits that children get by experiencing art, especially from an artistic genre they're unfamiliar with - like abstract art or surrealism or cubism.

Galleries themselves usually give children a warm welcome and are happy to let them appreciate famous and valuable art works. They're very forgiving on the odd occasion that a child accidentally damages something.

Like the four-year-old boy who last year smashed a priceless 3,500 year old vase to pieces at a gallery in Israel. Far from being outraged, the Hecht Museum invited the child back to the museum with his family for an organised tour. And there was no question of the family being asked to pay anything towards repairing the vase.

In my experience gallery attendants are very quick to stop anyone (both children and adults) from getting too near the exhibits, so the chance of something getting damaged is pretty remote.

Pic: Gray, Orange on Maroon by Mark Rothko

No aversion

Hannah suggests I have an aversion to children.

Not so. I have nothing against children, and in general I'm very tolerant of them. After all, I was a child myself once upon a time. But I have an aversion to children who behave badly, just as I have an aversion to oldies who behave badly. If a child is being rude or demanding endless attention or throwing things, of course I don't like it and I'll want them to be better behaved.

There are four children in the house next door and I have no problem with them. They're very well-behaved and mostly don't bother us in any way. The only minor annoyance is from the oldest son, who regularly kicks footballs into our garden. We chuck them back and that's that.

Grown adults can be much more tiresome, making tedious complaints about parking or dog mess or litter or bin emptying. You can't say, oh they're just having fun, you know what children are like, because they aren't children. They're meant to be intelligent and interesting, not a lot of dreary whingers and moaners.

Children come up with all sorts of intriguing ideas and observations. They're full of life and bubbly curiosity. Why would I have an aversion to them?

Fastidious, moi?

It's often said that oldies are more fastidious than the young, constantly complaining about this, that and the other thing.

I don't think that's true at all. Children are just as fastidious as the old, they simply fuss about different things.

They want a certain brand of trainers, or there's half a dozen foods they refuse to eat, or they hate certain colours, or their hair has got to be just so. Children can be so fussy over so many things that their parents despair.

In fact I have the impression kids are getting more fastidious by the day. They seem even more demanding and even keener to keep up with what their friends are doing and wearing and enthusing about. Or is that a mistaken impression?

Certainly when I was a kid I don't remember being especially demanding about anything at all. Most of the time I just did what my parents expected me to do. I ate what was put in front of me and I wore what my mother bought for me and I was polite and adaptable. My docility seems a bit pathetic by today's standards but I didn't find it abnormal at the time.

My personal fastidiousness is mainly centred on cleanliness and tidiness. I couldn't stand a house that was filthy dirty or full of clutter. Luckily Jenny is the same. A girlfriend and I once shared a flat with people who seemed oblivious to the increasing grubbiness and disorder and did nothing about it. After several exasperating weeks, we moved out.

Of course nobody likes to be described as fastidious. No, no, we just have our standards and we stick to them.