Favourites are there to help us feel safe

WEEK twelve of the Government’s ‘I can’t believe it is not a lockdown plan,’ and this week I am going to explore a part of the current ‘new normal’ which has had to change – patterns .

People like patterns in life; it is part of our programming to feel safe with the familiar.

The ‘new normal’ is slightly less terrifying when we manage lay down some new patterns.

Queuing 2m apart for stuff in a mask is now part of getting me bait in.

Patterns are why we have preferences; your favourite chair, cup, jumper, pen or even parking space – all set to impose order on the chaos of reality.

Most of us had our favourite pair of jeans or bonny shirt for our Friday nights ‘oot on the Toon’– Haircut 100 even wrote a song about it although , ironically, it is not one of my favourite tunes!

The ‘getting ready’ record could set the tone for the whole night – our lass professed it was a dead straightforward ‘girls just wanna have fun’ by Cyndi Lauper for her ( no subliminal messages there!) while I liked the ‘Boys are back in Town’ by Thin Lizzy – a bit blokie but I was going to the hairy bummed heedbanging night at Mayfair, not the Literary and Philosophical Society’s annual dinner.

Once out, my mate had his favourite ‘pulling pants’ – he said he felt invincible in his quilted ‘Kid Creole’ baggy-yet-tapered burgundy Le Brevs.

I would wager it was the fact he was wadded and looked like the high cheekboned Nordic male model frontman from the synth group Aha that probably swung it with the ladies.

It starts in childhood – you have your favourite teddy, your preferred corner of the Wendy house and the bestest-ever pair of shoes you try to go to bed in.

My personal faves were a pair of

Clark’s commandos with the obligatory compass in the heel and animal tracks on the soles. You had your favourite swing in the park – slightly shorter than the rest with a new rubber seat and a cool noise which sounded like Chewbacca off Star Wars when you reached your favourite height and speed.

In secondary school I had my favourite desk in each room, my favourite spot in the yard where you could watch the unattainable goddesses float from the sixth form block while remaining invisible to the meat-heeds in smoking their tabs in the prison gym corner.

Furthermore, I had my favourite locker in the house block, my chosen woodwork bench and even my preferred shower cubicle in PE.

To be honest, as long as it was not the cubicle with the microscopically-shorter shower curtain I was not particularly bothered.

If you had the misfortune to be last in off the field and get this one, then you were socially doomed.

This was the clearly the ‘perv’ cubicle, as the shorter curtain ‘obviously ‘meant you wanted everyone else to see you starkers.’

You would want your favourite seat on the bus – upstairs and at the back – while you would scan the menu for your favourite pudding.

Spotted Dick was best – it was lush and kept you in inane and immature guffaws for the through the afternoon – especially if it was your favourite lesson where you got to sit with your best mate.

Even in my fifties, the comfort of favourites is still relevant – perhaps even more so than ever. If I can’t roll into my exact favourite parking space (obviously socially distancing) when I am down at me local supermarket, I feel a shudder of discomfort and even a slight anger.

How dare some cheeky nowt take MY favourite place – it is right on the end of the row so I can get out easily and it is visible from my preferred checkout near the far door.

It is especially good if my favourite operator is on there too – I can smile as I get out my shopping bags.

Finally, however, the one area I where can never pick a favourite or express a preference, is when ordered to do so by my other half ... Stay safe pets !