Weekends now get a roasting

The reality is monumentally different, in today’s 24-hour frantic world, the traditions of the easy Sunday are now but a distant dream.

“Tony the gutters need cleaning, and the grass needs a hair cut” are but two of the many barked orders from her indoors, and as a dutiful hubby of many years standing, I carry on reading my book. Others are not so lucky, I can ignore the procrastinations of my other half, as a retired geezer, these tasks can be done at leisure mid-week, unfortunately the working lads have no such choice, and so ladders are raised, and lawn mowers are fired up and in a multitude of homes all over these islands, the tasks are undertaken.

The five-day week with two days off are a relic of distant days, with the rising cost of living necessity overrides ambition, and Saturdays and Sundays have become a working day for some. In shops, hospitals, construction sites and half a hundred other establishments the lads and lasses are manning the ramparts to provide a service to the weekenders, and carry out their duties with envious eyes.

There was a time, back in the dim and distant past when town and city centres were deserted on a Sunday, walking along empty streets was a panacea to the noise and turbulence of the construction sites that I worked on as a young apprentice, now today, the weekends in the average high street is like all other days, frantic, noisy and commercial.

There is a generation of younger folk who will never experience the sheer pleasure of a relaxing day, a day without turmoil, noise and frantic movement, a day anticipated for the family meal, a get together of sons, daughters, mum, dad, and maybe grandparents, all sitting around the dining table, swapping family news, spinning yarns, laughter, and tears. Even though our children have children of their own, we still have the Sunday roast, our sitting room still gets wrecked by the little ones. Sunday in Levy Towers is for family, not shopping, just family with all that goes with it. A tradition we brought up from the east end, one I remember as a wide eyed child 60 years ago, and I hope, in years to come, my grandchildren will host their own Sunday family get together.

Weekends are just that, the end of the working week, but today in this brave new frightening world, money and commerce is all, maybe so, but not in this corner of Empire, this little bit of England adheres to the 60s mantra of Dr Timothy Leary, “Tune in, turn on, drop out” which today means, stuff commercialism, family first, traditions live on, and it’s up to you and I to see they never vanish.

Tony Levy, Wednesfield