At a time when the news from home and abroad becomes a gloom every day, we have never again needed those everyday pleasures and small triumphs that bring moments of happiness into our lives.
You know the kind of things: a smile from an attractive stranger; Arrived at the bus stop, just as your bus occurs; Or immediately find an empty parking space.
Now it seems that these small things happen more often than a grumpy old curmudgeon like me can have realized it.
It seems that on average we experience no less than 15 of these 'small victories' every week, while the number under the 18-29 age group is even higher, at 18.4 a week.
So, says a study of 2,000 British, reported in yesterday's newspaper.
Commissioned by Coca-Cola Zero Sugar, this believes that most of us (77 percent) think that it is the small things that make us smile, with a remarkable 27 percent who rates more in the lucky points than even buy such life-changing events such as a baby or a house.
Subsequently, it mentions the top 25 small victories quoted by interviewees, of 'Cash Finding in an old wallet or wallet' in the first position, mentioned by 62 percent, to 'beat your personal record in the gym' (16 percent), which comes to number 25.
As far as I am concerned, I crossed the threshold of a gym no more than half a century ago, and I have no wish either.
But each to its own taste, of course. Indeed, we could all put together our own lists of the little things that make us happy.
You know the kind of things: a smile from an attractive stranger; Arrived at the bus stop, just as your bus occurs; Or immediately find an empty parking space, writes Tom Utley. Image: Stock image
Be happy
To start with, the mine would include much of that in the survey – and not just that smile of the foreigner or the handy bus and the parking lot.
I would also repeat those who 'choosing the fastest queue at the supermarket' (32 percent), 'more paid than you thought' (45 percent) and 'work for a two -week holiday' (28 percent).
But to this I would add several who do not appear in the survey, including one or two that I only recently started to see as reasons for partying.
For example, now that I have reached the age of 71, I count it a small victory when I get through an entire night without dragging myself out of bed for a pee.
I also look forward, in those rare cases when I remember my password for a website, instead of having to go through the Rigmarole to reset it.
It is the same as I check my bags, halfway to the station, and I think I have not forgotten my freedom pass, glasses or keys for once.
Even a few years ago I would have considered none of these achievements as triumphs. But now I knock myself on my back when I reach one of them.
No wonder, perhaps, that more than three -quarters of those interviewed in the survey said that small victories become more important as we get older.
For example, now that I have reached the age of 71, I count it a small victory when I endure a whole night's sleep without dragging myself out of bed for a pee, Tom Utley writes. Image: Stock image
Bug
In the meantime, other small victories can ring a bell with some of my colleague -married men of a certain age.
I count it a rare triumph, for example, when I buy Mrs. a gift that she actually likes and stores, instead of bringing it back to the store to trade for something else.
It is also a joyful relief, if I escape a ticking-off for loading the dishwasher in a not-approved way, or comes home somewhat for a pleasant visit to the pub.
Then there is the extravagant praise that I get from my other half if I have been able to repair a non-functioning device by a coincidence. That is despite the fact that everything I ever do, to switch things off and then switch it on again (but please don't tell her).
The best of all, of course, are those rarest words I only heard once in a blue moon since we got married 45 years ago: “Yes, darling, you were right and I was wrong.”
But you don't have to be over the hill, male or married to appreciate some other victories on my list.
Think of that wonderful opportunity, if you have ever experienced it, calling the number of a government department or a large company – and finding yourself steeped in a living, breathable person.
It is also a joyful relief, when I escape a ticking-off for loading the dishwasher in a not-approved way, or coming home somewhat for a pleasant visit to the pub, writes Tom Utley
It also welcomes me when motorists for whom I have stopped to let them pass a courteous hand in gratitude, although nowadays this rarely happens increasingly.
Oh, and has your car ever been the first of the cross-channel ferry or your suitcase the first to appear on the carousel of the airport? I have had both experiences, a total of once, and I can assure you that there is no better start to a vacation.
In the meantime, my fellow smokers will understand that moment of joy when we find a long forgotten pack of cigarettes in an old jacket pocket.
Then there are other, more guilty moments of pleasure.
Which of us, let's be honest, does not feel a sensation from Schadenfreude when another politician gets his arrival after he is caught at his expense, his (or her) performance on a CV, snailing voters on WhatsApp or a voter on the street?
It would of course be nice if one or two in the current cabinet were to be fired for pure stupidity and incompetence (I would choose Ed Miliband, Rachel Reeves, David Lammy and Lord Hermmer only for starters). But we can all live in hope.
And what about the feeling that we can get from believing a cold scammer that he got a fool with him he gives him a robust piece of us?
But I have not even mentioned much of the more obvious happy moments that life has to offer.
With the risk of sounding like Pollyanna, I am thinking of the joy of receiving another funny video of the grandchildren or the appearance of cheap daffodils in the shops and snowdrops in the park to herald spring.
Then there is the satisfaction to finish a crossword in a respectable time, or the enormous relief of finding the latter, missing piece of the puzzle under the table.
Cheerful
I also cannot end without mentioning the special pleasure that I get from receiving letters or e -mails from friendly readers, and say they enjoyed something that I wrote.
When I started writing this piece, I feared that I would get out of the reasons to be cheerful long before I could reach the bottom of the page.
Yet I am hardly working now and I no longer have a room.
I think this requires a drink.
But you will not find me from those 21 percent who say they celebrate moments of happiness with 'refreshing drinks on the couch'-'like an ice-cold Coca Cola Zero', says the press release that this week's survey is accompanied.
But grateful, although I am the people of Coke for delivering a cheerful subject for a column, I have to say that their product is far from my idea of ​​a festive drink. Mine is a pint in the pub.
