February 7th

What's more important? The Beatles first day in America, or Charles Dickens' birth? Who changed the world more? Who will still be important, or relevant in another 100 years - either of them, or neither of them?

The first untethered astronaut walked in space on this day in 1984. Swiss women got the vote on this day in 1971. Modern New Zealand was one day old on February 7th, 1840.

I read Dickens, occasionally. I sing Revolution in the shower. I don't vote, but love being able to; I don't walk in space, but I love the stars. When I visit New Zealand I stand on the beach at night and look up, and I swear there are satellites and meteors and shooting stars, bright Venus and dull, red Mars.

Meaning - celebrate Dickens' birthday by reading. Not Great Expectations, if it is too old fashioned for you; or Oliver Twist, if it reminds you cruelly of the third form. But Dickens if you want to. Or Austen, or the Alex Rider books, or Tintin, or Mr Gum or Mr Stink, or the Hemingway you haven't read for twenty years - if you want to.

Or like me, Bud, Not Buddy: a YA classic, celebrated, minor, new to me, but part of the fibre and weave that begins with Dickens and what came before him, and the amazing path that followed, a shared history of rock music and new frontiers, space and democracy, and millions of wonderful words.