draliman on life

Memories. They’re funny things.

Generally rock solid just after the fact, but they tend to change over time. Eventually they can become less a memory, more a fantasy. I’ve lost count of the times I’ve re-read a book after several years, only to find that I’ve vastly exaggerated the ending in my own head. The same goes for films.

Then there’s old TV series. When I watch them now, they’re not nearly as good as I remember. But then, I’m basing them on a child’s memories.

So now I have to wonder about the weather. I’m firmly convinced that “summers were better when I was a kid”. Of course, being able to constantly moan that the past was better is one of the cool things about getting older. But is it true about the weather? Sure, 1976 was an amazing summer. It was a drought, with associated hosepipe bans and whatnot, but all I remember is fun summer days. Was it always great in August or was is usually like it is now? 20 degrees, raining, occasionally we see the sun. People are wearing coats. Last week it got warm and my flat and I opened a window, wondering what was going on. Then I realised that it’s mid-August – isn’t it supposed to be like this?

I think it did used to be better. But that’s only what I remember.