What's another year?

Strong recollections of a particular time, place, emotion and person can be triggered by something quite ordinary- a specific song, a smell, a familiar view , a sound or even a piece of writing.

1980 was a year packed full of many memories for me. It was the year of my 17th birthday, time to begin to accept the fast approach of adulthood and with that a realisation of responsibility for self and future. The standard ritual of applying for a provisional driving licence was followed and decision time was looming for what I wanted to do for a career.

However, on a tuesday in particular the most important and critical issue in my life, which overshadowed all other issues, was the music charts which came out about midday from the only broadcast station worth listening to, BBC Radio 1. Living close to the school I was on home dinners and my role amongst my classmates was to report back with the top ten singles which always established the bragging rights for the forthcoming week for the mods, rockers and , well, no other allegiance mattered.

Musically it was a very strange period. After the punk and new romantic era in the late 70's it was the time in 1980 for the commercialism of Ska, a revival of the Mods and the birth of the new wave of british heavy metal. An exciting time for being young but then curiously tempered and stunted by massive chart topping success for The Nolan Sisters, Kenny Rogers, Johnny Logan and St Winifreds School Choir. Some days I dare not go back to school after lunch.

Emotions around musical loyalties ran high with much scribbling of graffitti and band logo's on pencil cases, sports bags and text books. Confusion over music was also rife. In a poll for the school magazine amongst the whole compliment of male pupils the absolute best in a certain category of music also and in complete contradiction came rock bottom.

An honorary minutes silence was held in our slum of a common room for the untimely passing of John Lennon (shot) and Ian Curtis (suicide).

World events did start to be followed by an age group otherwise led by hormonal changes, music, fashion, girls and those old enough to own or have access to a car. There were tumultuous times everywhere else to where I lived giving a strong feeling of wanting to do something, anything to feel connected to what was going on. I was becoming aware that I was living a safe and privileged life and this evoked very mixed feelings of guilt and relief.

In Poland the strike led by Lech Walesa was a distinct threat to the communist regime. The Russians were in a corner over this, in a war in Afghanistan and boycotted over their hosting of the Olympic Games. Fittingly for the volatile nature of the Soviets a main film released during the year was 'The Empire Strikes Back'. The Cold War was back on. I recall watching the live TV coverage of the Iranian Embassy siege in London. Mount St Helens exploded to provide a whole new line of study in my geography 'A' level. A dingo was reported to have run off with a baby in the Australian outback. Laughingly, the British car industry launched the mini metro. Such times.

Teenage angst, feelings of mortality and the stress associated with thinking about going out into a challenging world was not at all helped by the delivery to our house, along with every household in the country, of a small orange coloured booklet entitled 'Protect and Survive' or paraphrased as 'How to make your house and family as safe as possible under Nuclear Attack'.

This had been released by the government in response to criticism and concerns that there were in fact no contingency plans whatsoever in place for such a scenario. The emotions upon browsing through the pamphlet ranged from sheer terror to comic amusement. The publication was the catalyst for many TV dramas, an animated film and discussions and I can vividly remember a programme showing the arched flightpaths of ballistic missiles on leaving their silos. The guide showed how to build a shelter against fallout, provided a list of essential supplies and what to expect in the aftermath. The cheery optimism was the funniest aspect as though a full blown attack would just constitute a minor interruption and inconvenience to normal everyday life. There was some degree of alarm and paranoia in the country as a consequence of the threat of annihilation.

At such times when things  look too massive to contemplate or we feel powerless to act we do look around for support and a sense of proportion . This was found through my Mother. She wrote a wonderful letter to The Yorkshire Post, which they published, appealing for an end to what was speculation and scaremongering when the population had enough to worry about let alone for the prospect of the end of the world.

In a small way I firmly believe that this calm and reasoned voice, in contributing to many a common opinion, set the world straight and to a better understanding.