Every January, for as long as I can remember, my now-elderly father has spent many days congratulating himself on his extraordinary ability to write the correct year when he’s putting the date on a cheque.
No one under the age of 80 considers this a skill. No one under 35 even knows what he’s talking about. And I’m not planning to explain. Cheques will perhaps become fashionable again one day, as a sort of retro thing, but it hasn’t happened yet.
