There comes a time in your life when nostalgia becomes like a warm blanket.

All those years trying to be at the cutting edge can be rested in order to snuggle up to what you know and love. In fact, scrap ‘warm’ blanket...it’s more comfort blanket.

It’s why we all love seeing pictures of Kent’s town centres from years gone-by. They conjure up memories hidden dormant in our minds. People and places we once shared our lives with. The past, we seem to feel, was safe and secure. We know, after all, had it all pretty much turned out.

Indeed, nostalgia is like a potent perfume in transporting us back through the years. How often, as an example, do you hear a song you’ve not heard in an age and it drags you back to when you danced to it at a local nightclub, or blasted it out of the car as you and your friends were on a night out?

Of course, that power can be monetised too – and the entertainment industry has been only too wise to its potential.

Why bother just with teenagers and their limited incomes, when you can put on a ‘legacy’ act and pull in thousands of middle-aged folk into money-extracting venue like the O2 to relive their youth? One night will see the restaurant tills ringing as the 40 and 50-somethings have a meal and glass or wine before the show before heading to their over-priced seats.

Music festivals have, surely now, almost wrung the 1980s era dry – fun as they are.

Disney’s revival of Star Wars has seen the brand (which, of course, is what it now is) milked dry.

And while there was, undoubtedly, a pleasure in seeing Harrison Ford return as Han Solo, one has to ponder the decision-making behind bringing him back for yet another outing as Indiana Jones.

The Dial of Destiny hits the big screen this summer. It is, says Mr Ford, the last time he’ll pull on the fedora and strap the whip to his belt. I certainly hope so, he’s 80 years old.

I know the suspension of disbelief is essential for most blockbusters these days, but an 80-year-old running from the bad guys. I mean, come on. Indiana Jones is only fractionally younger than my father, and with the best will in the world, if a baddie gives chase to my dad, he’s gonzo. Within seconds.

Of course, the film-makers are alert to Ford’s passing of years. Which is why, no doubt, the first 20 minutes of the new flick sees some computer generated gimmickery recreating an apparent Indiana Jones adventure from years gone by.

It is, surely, only a matter of time before classic characters return with the famous face computer mapped onto a younger actor for the entire duration.

Mind you, for reasons that completely baffle me, people are paying in excess of £100 for a ticket to Abba Voyage – a ‘concert’ which features the stars in not-quite hologram form. The Swedish group must have danced all the way to the bank when they realised they could sell out night after night without actually having to move from their armchair, let alone squeeze into a sequinned jumpsuit. Crazy stuff.

But that’s nostaliga for you. It’s not what it used to be.