Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Look Up, Look Back, Look Forward

Wait for a clear, dark evening in March when the moon hasn’t risen and pop outside for 10 minutes.  Now look to the south-west about half way up from the horizon, where the black night is presided over by the majestic constellation of Orion.  Follow the three stars that form the famous belt diagonally upwards, slide past the faintly red star, Aldebaran, the eye of Taurus the bull, and continue on until you reach the small cluster of fuzzy stars forming the Pleiades.  There, nestling just to the right nearby, is the fairly inconspicuous crooked line of three stars that make up the constellation of Aries.  With me so far?

https://littleastronomy.com/find-aries-constellation

Now we need to zoom in on the third star of the crooked line - it’s called Beta Arietis (or Sheratan) and it’s a relative neighbour by cosmic standards being just a modest 360 trillion miles from Earth.  The significance of this to my story is that the light from this star has taken about 60 years to reach us - or, put it another way, an alien on a planet orbiting this star, who happened to be outside tonight and stargazing in our direction, would be seeing the Earth as it was six decades ago.  If they owned a really powerful telescope it might be possible to zoom in on a town in the middle of the odd-shaped island just off the north-western coast of a large, continental land mass.  Turning up the magnification a whole load more and focusing on a small house in the suburbs of the town they might notice a gathering of a little group of the planet’s inhabitants.  They might speculate that there was some type of event taking place and they’d be spot on - down there on Planet Earth 60 years ago I was making my first journey, a mere six miles, from Sherwood Maternity Hospital, Nottingham, to my new home in 6 Ranmore Close, Bramcote Hills.  Family, friends and neighbours were standing by to celebrate my arrival.

Our alien friend (let’s call it Ali, as they went non-binary-gender-neutral several millennia ago) is curious.  It asks a mate (Sam) if it can borrow the local radio telescope and for the next few weeks they tune in and monitor the electro-magnetic signals arriving from Earth, hoping to learn more about the customs and activities of these other local residents of their patch of the galaxy.

It’s a confusing mixture and it takes them some time to figure out. The news broadcasts are reporting that a country called China has ‘annexed’ another country called Tibet and someone called the Dai Lama has fled to safety in yet another country called India.  The USA has just launched a probe called Pioneer to the Moon (and missed) and 200,000 demonstrators gather in Trafalgar Square to support the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament.

The entertainment attracting most attention amongst the adult population (the minority that owned a TV that is) includes Hancock’s Half Hour, Opportunity Knocks and The Good Old Days.  Their fortunate children, on the other hand, are tuning in to the vaguely-educational Blue Peter, a slapstick mixture on Fridays called Crackerjack and a charming cartoon about Noggin the Nog and his dragon friends.  On the airwaves it was Russ Conway crooning ‘Side Saddle’ at Number One but rapidly climbing the charts was Buddy Holly with ‘It Doesn’t Matter Anymore' and Cliff and The Shadows were rocking to ‘Living Doll.’

Being sport lovers, what really caught Ali and Sam’s attention was a weekly programme called Grandstand.  The format always seemed to be the same - a preview of the day’s football, a few horse races, probably some other minor sport like motor-bike scrambling, a rugby league match and then the final scores from all the afternoon’s football.  Our aliens developed an increasing interest in football as they monitored the climax to the 1958/59 season and by the time of the Cup Final in early May they were avid followers.  They noted with interest that the family they’d observed a few weeks earlier, happened to live in the city represented by one of the finalists and that they appeared to be in an increasing state of excited anticipation.  Consequently, on a whim and for a bit of fun, they decided to form the Beta Arietis branch of the Nottingham Forest Supporters Club.

So 60 years ago my family gathered around the small black and white telly at Harry and Ethel’s (my maternal grandparents) and settled down to watch the match. I was tucked into a corner of the room and no doubt spent the afternoon dozing quietly, only irritatingly demanding attention at crucial moments in the game.   It was a great result for the Reds as our 10-man team (no substitutes in those days) held on to win 2-1 leading to noisy jubilation in the house and a sequence of numerous celebratory cups of tea.  That’s Methodists for you.   (Trivia - the Forest winner was scored by Roy Dwight who was Elton John’s cousin).  Six decades later and Forest haven’t managed to lift the FA Cup since.

Pathe News https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zy6z0-YNk3E

Yesterday Ali and Sam watched the same match live and endured the same neural (alien equivalent of nail-biting) excitement as their adopted team eventually triumphed.  They celebrated in style and are looking forward to many more trophies in the years ahead.  The good news for them, although they don’t know it yet, is that in about 20 years time they will begin a spectacular spell of four or five seasons when a chap called Cloughie will pop up on their radio telescope and start to manage the team.  Feeling some long-distance kinship with the Earth family and, having observed my entry into the world, they decided to send me a birthday card.  Figuring I’d probably like football when I was older they used their word processing software to knock up an e-card with a footballer and cup on it, adding the words “Happy 120th Birthday” before hitting the send button.

So I can look forward to receiving at least one e-card on my 120th.  Actually I’d like to think that if I’ve made it that far I might well be the recipient of a whole stack of them.  I wonder what sort of birthday message our monarch will send - indeed who will be our Head of State?  I’m guessing that we’ll have continued to avoid any major revolutions, still have our monarchy and that our political scene will still have drifted along in traditional bumbling ding-ding-dong-style.  In my six decades on planet earth I’ve only ever been ruled by one person but have been governed by twelve prime ministers and just over two-thirds of my life has been directed by the Conservatives.  (Note: 2022 - now two and fourteen).

I’m really curious about what the future holds. To be honest I’d rather not know things on a personal, family or friend level and just allow things to play out, but I’m intrigued about the direction we’re going as a society on a whole variety of themes and topics.  Where are we all heading in a world increasingly dominated by global data organisations, the Internet, and AI?  A world where science is advancing way faster than we can imagine or legislate.  Where governments and religions are fighting rear guard actions to maintain any sense of authority, and where a substantial number of people are sticking their heads in the sand and looking to nationalism or old scripture fairy tales as a refuge.

What I could really do with is a Time Machine ……. Hang on a minute I’ve just realised that I actually already own one.  It’s not exactly a top-of-the-range model but it’s been pretty reliable so far and there are a variety of functions and features I couldn’t do without.

Firstly, it can transport me forwards in time.  I know that barring any breakdowns or malfunctions I can target a date in the future and I’ll eventually get there.  The range is getting rather more limited these days but with a bit of luck I can still hope to spin the dial 25 to 30 years ahead.  The speed of travel of one hour per hour (hph) might be an issue for some as it takes a full 24 hours to travel forward one day.  But now I’ve retired I’m quite happy about proceeding into the future at this sedate pace; I certainly don’t want it to suddenly speed up.  Therefore I can speculate about things in the near future (will England win the 2022 World Cup for example? – Answer No) and I know that I’ll find out in due course when my Time Machine eventually gets me there.

Going back into the past is rather different and the machine offers me a variety of options depending on the historical range I select.  For the recent past, let’s say 50 years, I have to press the ‘memory button’ and concentrate hard.  It works best if I remove other distractions such as the telly, and isolate myself from any ongoing conversations.  It only takes a few seconds to get there but is rather limited, only being able to transport me into my own personal history and being a ‘virtual’ rather than a ‘physical’ experience.  Sometimes the trip can also be a bit patchy as some of the data has been distorted or lost.  There are, however, some boost functions that improve the journey: the ‘music boost’ is brilliant; just select a track and you’re instantly back in the past, re-living the sights, smells, sounds and emotions of the period.  I also wouldn’t be without the ‘photo boost.’  You just need to open a folder and choose a few related images and the memory function is both validated and enhanced.  It’s often useful, and certainly enjoyable, to occasionally share a memory trip with those other travellers who were also there at the time and can elaborate or fine tune the experience.

However, to experience past events that I wasn’t physically present at, I have to open the Time Machine’s ‘knowledge retrieval systems’.  These have been built up over the last 60 years through a varied mixture of education, research and reading, conversations, TV dramas and documentaries, historical visits etc.  Again it means the experience is virtual, rather than physical, and though it’s also at risk of misinterpretation or bias, for sure, it’s better than nothing.

There is at least one function I know the machine possesses and can transport me back a long, long way in time.  It’s the ‘Cell Memory/DNA’ switch and I know it’s extremely powerful.  The only problem is that I haven’t figured out how to use it in a controlled way yet.  Occasionally, in certain circumstances, it kicks in automatically - should I run or fight, should I eat or avoid, do I like that person or distrust someone else?  Don’t ask me how but somewhere in each of the millions of cells in my body are the lessons and experiences of millennia of human evolution.  I carry in my DNA bits of codes handed down from my descendants going right back to our early days on the African savannah; little bits of their physical make up, character, strengths and weaknesses, intelligence and emotional responses are all in there somewhere.  This information is carried in a mix of chemicals and molecules that make up the cell.  If it can hold such data then I wonder if it can also hold actual memories of individuals which are, after all, just another mix of chemicals and molecules held in our brain and neuro-muscular cellular linkages?  The physical stuff is passed down - why not the less tangible?  I’m unlikely to figure out how to tap into the genetic memories of my ancestors any time soon though, so for the time being, I’m going to have to make do with the standard boost functions.

Our alien observers, being interested in social history, will have noted by now that mine is a privileged generation that has prospered from a rise in living standards, the NHS and free education, significant advances in science and technology, virtual eradication of diseases, and the absence (so far) of World Wars.  They will also have witnessed a transformation in society away (slowly) from the casual persecution of religious and ethnic minorities, the disabled and mentally ill, single mothers, working women, and homosexuals.  Ironically as the country has become less of a worshipping Christian nation it can be seen to have adopted (slowly and generally) a more Christian way of life.

So going back to my origins 60 years ago (or ‘now’ if you live on Beta Arietis) in Nottingham, I began life, like many other kids in the late fifties, in a home without central heating, double glazing, a washing machine, freezer or telly and where Mum stayed at home to look after the house and children rather than going out to work, and had a ’tick’ account at the grocers and butchers. Sixty years on and I’m in a society where, for many of us, the absence of a downstairs loo, or foreign holiday feels like we are being deprived.

If you recall, I was last observed tucked up in my cot at the back of the room complaining I couldn’t see the football on the box properly.  I can’t remember too much from 1959 so let me fire up the Time Machine as if I’m a new Doctor Who incarnation, spin the dials, flick a few filter switches and see where and when we are transported to……or who we might want to find out about.