|Posted: November 5, 2006, 5:14 am - IP Logged|
There was another little milestone in our loss of innocence last week when the national lottery announced that a million quid is no longer enough to change someone's life. Never mind that a million quid these days is only 800 grand in real money, a million wouldn't even buy you your dream home now. It certainly wouldn't give you the courage to go and tell your boss where to go. You need serious money to ruin your life these days. Delores kind of money.
So since last night the Lotto will be at least two million quid. Because who'd be bothered going to the shop for a chance at winning only €1.35m, the previous minimum jackpot?
In another sad change for sentimentalists, it seems that Ronan Collins will no longer present theLotto. And there goes another link with more innocent times, another link to the times of unthreatening, golf-jumper-wearing, genial gentlemen broadcasters. Ronan Collins had none of the naked ambition you see in the eyes of the young crowd on TV these days. You never saw him falling out of a dress outside Lillies. He just turned up and did his job politely and he seemed to respect his audience. And then he went home to Woody and the kids. And the only thing you ever heard about his private life was that he was mad about Woody and he might sometimes play golf with some other respectable celebrities. If you thought about it he could well have been a millionaire. But he didn't act like one and we never really thought about it. Because he seemed like one of us.
These little moments should be marked, and remarked on. And we should marvel at how far we've all come, and how looking back, they weren't all that bad, those innocent times when everything wasn't for sale to the highest bidder.