Writers and writing, TV Reviews, observational humour and general ranting, social media, nostalgia, The Walking Dead, relationships, short stories ... thanks for your interest! Comments welcome. Your email address will not be 'harvested' for any mailing list, or made public. Tags at ends of posts lead to others on similar subjects.
Wednesday, 20 February 2013
Two Brief Moans.....
Added Sugar
It's everywhere, isn't it? The other day I was looking at a small carton of supposedly 'healthy eating' beetroot and carrot salad in a supermarket. On studying it carefully, I found that it contained nearly 300 calories. How the hell did they manage to get 300 calories into a beetroot and carrot salad? Of course, the sugar.... it was the same when I looked at many of the fruit juices. You might as well eat a banana and a kiwi fruit and have a tablespoonful of sugar; at least you'd be getting the fibre from the fruit itself. And don't get me started on the 'Innocent' smoothie range - you feel as if your teeth are falling out on the first mouthful....
It's a bit like the phrase 'all natural' - yeah, and so are cancerous growths. Or that 'one of your 5-a-day' rubbish - I watched a documentary on this a while back and there's no legislation governing this claim at all - anyone can put it on anything, even if all it's got in it are a few over processed bits of spud.
The Perfect Gift
Since about January 25th, everything was being flogged as 'the perfect gift for Valentine's Day'. My husband had emails from Amazon trying to sell him everything from books to electrical items to garden tools, under the guise that they were just what she or he needed for that day that used to be about secret admirers declaring their love. Now it's the end of February, everything is 'the perfect gift for Mothers' Day' - cue ghastly compilation CDs by sundry crooners that will end up in record shops' bargain bins. Next it will be Easter, then Fathers' Day, then they get a bit stuck, until Hallowe'en, I suppose.
I'm thinking of buying a van load of umbrellas wholesale and flogging them as 'the perfect gift for St Swithin's Day'. US readers, you'll have to look it up!
Monday, 4 February 2013
THE TRUTH ABOUT GETTING OLD....
Forty is the old age of youth, and fifty is the youth of old age.
It's not just that you haven't heard of any of the bands/acts in the Top 40, it's that you don't care that you haven't. (Severe cases will still call it ‘The Hit
Parade’) Remember these?
Similarly, you see strange words trending on Twitter, click on them to see what they are, and discover they're some band you've never heard of. They all look like children to you. You consider posting a Lou Reed video but don't get round to it...
In order to get yourself going in the morning, you don’t just need a strong cup of coffee. You need several - and a can of WD40.
Remember when you used to hate staying in on a Saturday night? Now, don’t you hate it if you have to go out?
In order to get yourself going in the morning, you don’t just need a strong cup of coffee. You need several - and a can of WD40.
Remember when you used to hate staying in on a Saturday night? Now, don’t you hate it if you have to go out?
...your idea of a good Saturday night is probably, like mine, a nice bath, clean
bedclothes, and a jolly good film, watched in bed …
(actually, thinking of a ‘nice bath’ as something of a treat
is another tell-tale sign!)
D'you remember about fifteen years ago when, if you’d put on a ‘few pounds’, you could just diet for a fortnight and it’d be gone? Doesn’t work anymore, does it?
D'you remember about fifteen years ago when, if you’d put on a ‘few pounds’, you could just diet for a fortnight and it’d be gone? Doesn’t work anymore, does it?
In your twenties, you and your friends have phone calls to discuss men and clothes. In your thirties, it’s jobs, children, weight. In your forties you discuss ‘life’. In your fifties, you compare ailments … okay, you tell me about your cataracts, and then we’ll do my arthritic knee…
The actors you fancy on telly have grey hair and laughter lines aplenty …
You probably speak your mind a bit more … perhaps you're becoming a bit of a dotty old bird, without realising it... this is me and my similarly old and peculiar sister - or is it Wayne's World??
You can now look at fresh-faced young women and admire their beauty, without feeling jealous; they're so far away from you that they might as well be another species.
Look - no sagging jowls!! (me on the right, aged 30)
You find that you’re more accepted by older, straighter
people. The sort that used to look at you with a faint air of disapproval/envy/discomfort. This is because you no longer appear edgy, hip, groovy and 'out there'. Well, not on first
impression, anyway....
However many early nights you have, however many AFDs (alcohol free days), you still don’t look as good as you did the morning after a whole weekend of debauchery ten years ago.
However many early nights you have, however many AFDs (alcohol free days), you still don’t look as good as you did the morning after a whole weekend of debauchery ten years ago.
If you are lucky enough to have parents still alive, you worry about them in the way they worried about you when you were a child
Do you remember the things your parents used to say when you watched Top Of The Pops? Now, when you see the currently chart-popular on television, you say all those things, too. "Why can't she just stand there and sing it without waving her arms around?" "Why is he wearing that stupid hat?"
Your youth is a magic memory of long ago, when the world was so different, in so many ways...
... and you can bore for England talking about it, too ...
Isn't it nice? You take more pleasure in standing and staring; the light in the sky, the leaves rustling in the breeze ~ ~ ~ and you do things like taking pictures of your houseplants to put on Twitter.
Hangovers last days, not hours. That’s if you can manage to get drunk enough to get one in the first place, without falling asleep half way through, or asking for a nice cup of tea.
You find it frustrating that younger people don't take your advice. You thought your dad didn't know what he was talking about as well, didn't you, eh?
Each birthday, you contemplate how old you are and think, how the hell did that happen?!
If you go to see your favourite old bands on their first tour for six years (or whatever), the audience is full of lots of grey haired people like you.
You probably look back on all your mistakes, sometimes. I bet you wouldn't change many of them, though, because they've made you the person you are now. But you might still make mental lists of 'things I wish I'd known at 18'. This used to be a regular feature in the Sunday Times when I was about 21. I didn't understand it at the time; I read it, but of course I thought I was immortal, then, like all people of that age, and didn't realise that one day my whole life wouldn't be all stretched out in front of me, waiting to be filled.
When you were 20, you thought 40 was past it, didn't you? When you're over 50, though, you realise that even 60 is still alive and kicking..!!
The best bit about getting old, though, is the fact that you've got there at all.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)