Niall Whatshisname or 'David Tries Being Young and Hip'

Checking the Twitter trends each morning has become a bit of a habit for me. Usually I'm in search of that day's hot topic. Sometimes Twitter delivers. Yesterday for example, I discovered that Michael Gove had been reshuffled in Cameron's cabinet and is no longer Education Secretary (rejoice!). The trend was #GoneGove. Though I was disappointed this was not the eagerly awaited sequel to a Gillian Flynn novel, Twitter did its job. I, with my lazy, first world brain had gotten hold of some news.

Today however I check Twitter and what do I see? One, it is someone called Theo's birthday. Equally enrapturing I find that the trend #NiallTakeASelfieWithTheo is keeping Tweeters occupied across the land. Now I'm a light-hearted chappy when I want to be, but I want to pose the question: is this country in dire need of going outside?

I know the weather here's drizzly at best the vast majority of the time, but really? Niall Whatshisname from One Direction's nephew is one today. Why does seeing them in an image together beat everything else to become today's most talked about thing? A child in the world is a joyous thing, and I have no problem with Niall from One Direction. However the sheer volume of demands from Tweeters to desperately see a child they don't know is a peculiar site to behold.

I think I'm getting old before my years. I'm approaching 24 and I believe I'm entering the window of my life where I'm often confused by some things young people (and some slightly worrying older people) do. I don't really want this to happen. On the one hand I love being young. The full use of my hips, the hope for a long and illustrious career, the so-far lack of wrinkles. These things are wonderful. However, some days I wonder if celebrity culture has gone a little too far. This is how I know I'm beginning to settle into my slippers and find myself powerless to prevent it.

I feel sorry for the celebrities. They are in fact just blokes and lasses, regular joes and janes who we decide are better than us and deserve to be lauded to the point that a nation cries out for an image of them on Snapchat or Instagram or Twitter or Tumblr or Pinterest or a combination of the above.

I worry I'm becoming an old grumpus. Maybe I should join the masses and wait, eagerly for the immenent iPhone image of Whatshisname and Theo. Then I look out of my window. It's sunny outside. We are a nation of cheese rollers and black-pudding throwers and May Day festival dancers.

In the words of Hugh Grant in Love, Actually - the only PM I'm likely to listen to: 'we're the country of William Shakespeare, Churchill, The Beatles, Sean Connery, Harry Potter. David Beckham's right foot, David Beckham's left foot for that matter.' Maybe if we weren't so concerned with images of these pretty people and aspired to do great things with our days, we would have some national pride. We should. Get out into the world, read a book, write a book, bake a cake, hold a large and ridiculous event for charity. Invite a friend over and watch that classic film you've always wondered about. Go on a long road trip with no destination and find some corner of the country where brilliant things happen. We're a great country, but only when we want it to be.

I hate to add gloom to happiness but togetherness is a tremendous thing. So maybe if we were all as like-minded as Tweeters are in wanting to see pictures of 1D, on things such as equal rights for all, ending poverty and doing something about the stupid wages of footballers, the world would be a better place to live in.

This Sunday I attend the Hastings Pirate Day and dress up as a pirate along with an entire town for the third year running. I'll see family and friends and drink drinks and enjoy the sun and the beach (hopefully). I'd urge people to do the same. Maybe that dangerous, scary, doom ridden outside is a little more interesting than what One Direction did today.

Maybe I'll take a selfie.