With apologies to the Old Geezer - and to The Revd. Acular who has already plagiarised him - but the title suits the thought of the day to a T.
I am delighted to announce that, as of yesterday, I am officially an OAP! Why yesterday? Well, the Department for Work & Pensions, the great Palace of Plenty in its infinite wisdom and beneficence, finally put some money into my bank account yesterday. I am actually tickled pink about that!
Yes, I know, intellectually I am aware that I have been putting big chunks of money into that pot since God & I were in our teens, but emotionally it feels a bit like they are giving me free money just for being old-ish. I like that.
I am now officially an Old Dear, so don't mess with me or I'll fetch you one round the earhole with my walking stick. (I've got one somewhere!)
Seriously, though, what IS the problem with getting old? I don't understand. Why do so many deeply misguided people subject themselves to quite unnecessary nips, tucks, fillers, toxins, in the vain attempt to stay young. I am certainly not wishing my life away but I enjoy the milestones. 30 was better than 29 because you can aspire to elegance at 30. 40 was good because it lends a gravitas that eludes a mere 39-year-old. 50 was the best one because I could retire at 50 - beat that, botox-fodder! AND I got to go on SAGA holidays.
And at 60? Free money, free bus pass, concessionary fares, exemption from paying National Insurance. Respect, maybe? It's great so far and I have no complaints.
Now I can't sit here chatting away for your amusement. I've got stuff to do. My ipod needs charging and I'm teaching myself to create a photo-DVD to give a presentation about my trip to Oberammergau (I have yet to convince them that they need a digital projector but I'm working on it).
Speak to you again when I've got a minute.....
