THIS was the week a survey revealed we were twice as well off as in the eighties, but no happier.

We can expect to live seven years longer, and not even this increases our chuckle rate.

Somehow, Utopia and our great expectations continue to elude us 21st century folk.

In this same week in sunny/snowy/soggy Skegness, a ray of hope broke through in my holiday reading with this charming mini-tale A man said to God: "How long is a minute to you?"

God replied: "To me a minute is as a thousand years and a thousand years is as a minute."

The man asked another question: "How much is a penny?"

God answered: "For me a penny is like a million pounds and a million pounds is just like a penny."

The man paused, looking hopeful. "In that case, can I have a penny please?"

God smiled, looked at the man and replied: "Sure just hang on a minute."

God speaks into our unease, "Give me time to do things my way. Give me a minute-ish.

"Let me be God. Yes, I know you think that's risky, but give me a whirl; let me decide what you need and when you need it.

"At the next happiness poll you'll be smiles better off" (a loose but likely version of John 10:10).

Try my Spirit inside you, he adds; instead of the alcoholic spirit that's killing you at twice the rate of the eighties.