Well, that's the season of goodwill just about over. You could tell it was the season of goodwill because everyone was getting so ratty. Especially in supermarkets where you could hardly move your trolley and there was a lifetime wait at the checkouts - except of course for us clever clogses who strolled comfortably round Tesco's at 6.30am. Smug or what.

Then there was the stupid woman who was so determined to get the next space in the queue for the car park, that she simply blocked the road. No one could get past and there was much hooting of horns and the threat of blood on the pavement - until a bus driver pointed out to her - fairly forcefully - the error of her ways. And Season's Greetings to you too.

But now we're back to normal, only with a hangover. And we don't even have to pretend to be nice. Snarl...

The year has barely begun and already it is tarnished round the edges with threats of war and worries about work and pensions.

But in our day-to-day lives it's fairly easy to forget the cataclysmic dangers, the global worries. We're much more likely to be affected by the silly woman blocking the road or the man who lets a door slam in our face or the person who pushes in the queue in front of us or the stranger who swears at us for no reason.

Or just all those grim and glaring faces who pass us all the time or those who just shrug their shoulders when we need help.

At the risk of sounding absolutely sick-making, could I suggest a New Year's Resolution for us all.

Could we just be a bit nicer to each other?

Nothing drastic or time-consuming. Just a bit of smile and chat at the checkout instead of using trolleys like offensive weapons. In the great scheme of things does it really matter if you let someone in in front of you?

We all know that it takes very little to cheer us up, to make us go home smiling instead of trudging miserably. Most of our New Year Resolutions - if we make them at all - tend to be pretty self centred - get fitter, thinner, give up smoking, learn a language, stop biting our fingernails.

They don't exactly reach out to the wider world, do they?

So let's try something that does. Shopping, queuing, waiting for buses and trains can be pretty miserable. But it can be made much more bearable when people talk to each other. Just being polite and friendly is a start.

A nightmare journey from Canterbury this time last year was made almost fun by the camaraderie in our coach. We didn't quite get as far as community singing, but we all talked to each other, someone passed a bag of toffees all around and when - after about five hours - we finally got to Waterloo, everyone stood back and let me out first and then cheered as I raced down into the underground in a desperate bid to cross London and catch my connection - the last train of the day.

I did it - spurred on, I'm sure by all that goodwill. And toffee.

We all say that the world is getting nastier and more uncaring. Well, this is our chance to do something about it.

It's got to be worth a try, hasn't it? Please?

And if you think I'm being mawkish, then you haven't seen Pollyanna yet.

The latest version of Eleanor H Porter's novels starts today on ITV. Pollyanna is the one who invented the Glad Game. As a missionary's child she was once sent a present of a pair of crutches and instead of going into a major tantrum, she was just glad that she didn't need them. Yes, well, no one said it was meant to be like real life.

But maybe Pollyanna's America of 1913 wasn't that different from 1950s Wales, where we had all the Pollyanna books and my grandmother was a champion of the Glad Game.

"Aaeegghh! Cousin Michael's broken my arm!" I cried to her once in agony, when I'd been thrown out of a window. Did I get sympathy? Of course not.

"Just be glad, " she said, "that you've got an arm to break. And," she added for good measure, "that you've still got another one to wipe your nose with."

Pollyanna has a lot to answer for.

Guess what the latest craze is among stylish twentysomething Italians?

No, not smart clubs, weird drinks or even weirder designer drugs.

Nope, it's bingo.

In the last two years 300 bingo halls have opened and nearly 400 more are due to open soon.

They gave us Michelangelo, Sophia Loren, spaghetti, chianti, sharp suits and wonderful shoes. And we've given them... bingo.

Welcome to la dolce vita.

Marriage is more damaging for women, because they have to make most adjustments, says a new survey.

Research by the Government funded One Plus One Marriage and Partnership Research organisation says that after marriage, men's lives go on much as before, but even today, women find they have to adapt to coping with most of the housework and domestic problems.

A new year and nothing changes...

Happy New Year.

www.thisisthenortheast.co.uk/ news/griffith

Published: ??/??/2002