An unexpected theme tune of recent months has been Blur s hit Parklife. It jangles around my head, my own lyrics replacing Phil Daniels Cockney narration. Kids, come off your tech for another bleak plod Parklife. Can t go to the gym, so I m off for a run Parklife. A friend s alone with her dog. Can we have a distanced chat? Parklife. All the people, so many people . . .
For decades of my life, urban parks have offered little interest. Acquire a child or a dog, or both, and suddenly these green spaces become paramount. In lockdown, they have become city-dwellers most important shared space. Though even they are now being billed as a potential danger zone.
If 2020 was a fictional character, how would we say good riddance to it on New Year s Eve? Drive a stake through its heart then bury it in quicklime? Blast it into outer space?
For some, of course, this will have been a year of wonders: babies have been born, loves kindled, dreams fulfilled. For others who have lost loved ones, it will have been a year of terrible sadness. But for most of us, it s been a slog.
And we cannot even see it off in style. There will be no New Year s Eve parties, for which I feel especially sorry for the Scots. Hogmanay can be a bigger deal than Christmas.
An actress friend has been working as a Tesco delivery driver. She applied online in March, when all her other jobs were cancelled. Far from resenting this emergency role, she has found bringing strangers their groceries a humbling, life-affirming experience. ‘You’re going to people’s homes and bringing them what they need,’ she told me.
The run-up to Christmas should be boom time for the retail sector. Instead, High Street giants such as TopShop and Debenhams have buckled. Tesco and Morrisons deciding to repay £850m of Covid business rates relief has been one of the few happy shopping headlines.