For some reason the “Beast from the East” struck our area particularly hard, and, while snowbound, I was exchanging texts with a good friend and client, who was similarly struggling with transport.

He had made it into work, but was regretting leaving his car keys, because he feared that his 18-year old son, on a snow day from school, was even at that moment practicing powerslides in PC World*.

He then went on to muse that, at that age he drifted his mum’s Mini (which one assumes was a proper Mini, made by Austin or Morris, not a BMW in mufti) into a parked car. Instead of coming home to face the music (and leaving his father to pick up the tab) he sat on the kerb, in the freezing cold, knocked out the slight dent with a hammer, and sprayed it with a hastily-purchased can of spray paint. His parents never realised what had happened, and he actually enjoyed doing it!

We then went onto discuss the general tendency nowadays to replace stuff, rather than repair it (we were having a busy morning, you can tell) which got me thinking about the general issue of choice.

In a society where consumer choice and the rights of the individual are ever more paramount, it does seem just a little odd that, in a myriad of small ways, choice at an individual level is ever more restricted.

When I were a lad, I replaced and repaired all sorts of bits on my VW Golf. I even installed an (illegal, but highly amusing) air-horn. And this in a household where the general level of competence was such that the abbreviation DIY denoted “Destroy It Yourself”! Nowadays, there is so much technology in a modern car that working on them requires a degree (or very nearly), and there wouldn’t be room under the bonnet for the air horn.

Another example: with this much snow, we would often go into the Mournes with sledges and snowboards. At the bottom of all the, let’s call them slopes, there are large signs saying, No Winter Sports. I know that it’s all about liability insurance, and lots of people simply ignore the signs (as do we), but isn’t a pity that money and selfishness drive out those who would like to have a little harmless fun? And if we choose to carry on and hurt ourselves (I cracked a rib the last time we did it), well, shouldn’t that be our choice?

I suppose it’s all progress of a sort, but every time the nanny state, or overprotective officiousness of one form or another takes away a little bit of freedom, I want to wave and point and shout (maybe leaving off the blue warpaint), You’re ruining my country!

That was little or nothing to do with financial planning, but I feel the better of it anyway – I hope you do too.

Stay warm and safe!

*other large car-parks are available.