Monday 21 October 2013

On birthdays, presents and comics

Now the thing about birthdays is the way they assume less importance with the passing years.

This of course maybe a very personal thing and I will be the first to admit that even given that there are fewer  years ahead of me than behind today does not have the same magic as it once did.

That said I am still a sucker for Christmas and in that great divide which pitches you either into the Christmas camp or the New Year one I am and remain a Christmas person.

But birthdays are a tad different.

My first 18 pretty much have been forgotten except for the one when I became six.  I remember the cake, and more importantly one of the presents which was a Regent petrol tanker made by Dinky.

And it remains with me because just a month later my twin sisters were born.

Of the rest they have faded, except for those that were marked by presents from my sons.

This one I think we will celebrate with the big meal given that our eldest has his birthday almost a week later and his partner celebrates hers in early November and as it falls in half term we may be able to gather everyone together.

But all of this is less about me than a reflection the toys that passed through the house over the last four decades and more.

My petrol tanker survived another half dozen years becoming more chipped, losing its tyres and eventually it ladders.

To buy the same today could cost me up to £300 a salutary lesson in keeping care of your toys.
In much the same way the Lego bought for the boys has long ago been consigned to bin liners in the cellar.

The pirate ship, the castle and loads of small cars, planes and helicopters is now a jumbled pile of coloured bricks, wheels and assorted figures.

In the same way the Hornby train set which father lavished hours of time creating during  my childhood was sold when we moved to Eltham.

A loss which I still regret, even given that I doubt there would have been anywhere for it at Well Hall Road or for that matter that at 14 I was over bothered.

Of course just two years later I was but by then there was no getting it back.

All of which makes me reflect on birthdays, both their promise for the year ahead and the presents from the year before.

At least with a bit of care and some financial out lay I have recovered some of the comics of my youth which as they say is another story.

Pictures; Eagle comics from the collection of Andrew Simpson

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