I grew up in the 60s. That’s the 1960s. The 2060s haven’t arrived yet, you’ll know when they do because we’ll be in a post-climate-change dystopian nightmare with no power, no water, people eating each other, tsunamis on Oxford Street, floods, fires, dry seasons lasting a decade with wet seasons going on forever. The 1960s were different. Post war prosperity. Sugar! Shit loads of it, readily available and healthy to eat back then. It didn’t become toxic until 1994. And petrol. Loads of it. And cheap. You could fill up a Rolls Royce for £1 3s 7d. (If you’re under 45 just ask Alexa what that means). So cars were built for style, as aesthetics, works of art which could be driven and engines were unlimited. Because the petrol was cheap and Greta Thunberg was decades away from being born. Thus all cars were overpowered. Why not? And they became relatively cheaper to buy. The Americans, blessed with a massive home market, went mad building more and more powerful cars. So every movie and tv show had to ‘star’ at least one car, many had lots more. Steve McQueen is expensive to hire, but a Boss Mustang supercharged 7-litre, virtually nothing.

Thus all kids ‘back then’ were obsessed with cars, car chases, with powerful engines.

Which is why Jeremy Clarkson was invented. To give voice to our collective obsession.

The ‘kids’ (anyone under 40) of today don’t share their parents’ love of automotive excess. They don’t really get it at all. And I get that, its a different world.

So I’ve always loved reading the Sunday Times ‘driving’ section. Well, ‘driving page’ as it has now become. Presumably because its only me that reads it, why waste all that paper. And when Clarkson was the editor and main writer it was always about the latest supercar, hypercar, insane car. It was Bugattis and Lamborghinis and Konigseggs and cars with loads of syllables and even more cylinders. ‘WOW!’ Cars. Ok, every once in a while he’d preview the latest Ford Focus Economy Family Estate, or some other unworthy which you could probably even afford to buy, but that wasn’t the main Focus (pun, ha, ha). The whole idea, dating back to the 60s, was on excessive pushing of boundaries. Of engine sizes, of power, of speed, yes, of danger and of price. Didn’t matter because you were never likely to buy one. It was car porn.

Today’s driving section features Electric Camper Vans. I was unsure what to do first: cancel my subscription or slit my fucking wrists.

So now I’m off to Spurs early kick-off. And may face the same decision there if we don’t win.

Happy Sunday

A xxxx