It is rarely a good sign when you begin to re-live your childhood. Of late, I have found myself drifting back to the 1970s with disturbing frequency. Once again, the British newspapers are full of headlines about Saudi oil sheikhs, inflation and trade-union militancy. A terrorist threat hangs over London. The England team has failed to qualify for a major football tournament. All it needs is some power cuts and the return of glam rock – and I will be right back into my second childhood.