I know of many people who are angst ridden over the political and economic upheaval on their own doorstep and across Europe, conflict between nations and within states in Africa and the Middle East, sabre rattling and ideological rhetoric between Super and would be Super-Powers, religious intolerance and extremism.
I do count myself amongst those with concerns and lets face it anyone wanting to just live their lives, bring up a family and contribute to their neighbourhood in peace and harmony is the same.
To this end I have to ask serious questions of myself in that I found myself disturbed and fretting in the early hours of one morning this week about the problems likely to be experienced in this crazy modern world by The Wombles.
I do not know where that train of thought came from.
Those fictional, loveable, herbivore environmental minded creatures have not figured in my life since the early 1970's and in particular my purchase as a birthday present at that time for my 13 year old sister of the vinyl single "Remember you're a Womble".
They have been absent from the public consciousness for almost as many years in spite of the great success of the animated series The Wombles and a seemingly inexhaustible range of merchandise and media spin-offs including making it to Top of the Pops.
I found myself thinking about how the Patriarch of the group, Great Uncle Bulgaria was coping with his advancing years and in particular having to live in what may well be a cosy burrow home in an area of Prime UK Real Estate, Wimbledon but likely to be damp and aggravating to any pre-existing respiratory or rheumatic complaints.
How is his pension provision and does he have access to the resources and services that he needs?
He does have a good support structure in place with the young and enthusiastic Wombles of Orinoco, Tobermory, and Tomsk who eke out a living by clearing and recycling the rubbish and ephemera dumped on the public open space of Wimbledon Common by a couldn't care less human population.
I expect that however hard working and entrepreneurial these three are that their livelihoods will have been affected by the fall in price for reclaimed tin and aluminium cans over recent years and with legislation such as Health and Safety covering the overhaul, renovation and resale of discarded white goods and other appliances that are inevitably disposed of by a consumer society.
Public demand has moved on from simple recycling to shabby-chic and other forms of upscaling and I worry that the large furry hands so typical of a Womble are not suited to such work. Their career prospects may be bleak with little scope to expand or diversify beyond the Common. There may be a real danger that they become bitter, disaffected and fall into that destructive category of a social and economic underclass.
As for Madame Cholet, the only female presence in the burrow I hope that she is treated with all due respect and equality by the predominant male population of Wombles.She does have a valuable contribution to the smooth and efficient operation of the group. A better and more suitable form of attire would be important as her characteristic trait as French Maid may have been politically tolerated back in the 1970's but not now, no way.
On subsequent analysis of my Womble worries I have come to the conclusion that they represent many of my own deep rooted fears and concerns. They exist in a sort of self sufficient bubble and yet a degree of influence is beyond their control which is perturbing .
However, this small enclave will not have been able to survive over the last half a century without a strong work ethic and indomitable spirit and we could all learn from this in our own lives.
I did manage to get back to sleep for a short time after this fretful awakening and dreamt no further on the plight of the Wombles which I took to be a good portent for the future.
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