Now That's What I Call Old

We all make jokes about 'Ooh, must be getting old' when we'd rather stay at home than go out, or when we have a mental block about someone's name, but if you understand any of the following, you're not 'getting' old at all.  

You've already got there.

Nice one, Mr Bowie, but I'm not sure you meant the person who thinks Oasis and Nirvana are new music, who hasn't worn high heels in 15 years and who not only has a favourite teaspoon, but thinks her coffee tastes different if an alternative is used.

In all its glory. 

old

If it's the first and third Tuesday of the month... 

When the next day is 'normal' bin day, ie not recycling or garden rubbish, I empty all the small bins into the big one and tie up the full bin liner so I can take it downstairs and put in the wheelie bin.  That's normal, right?  As is sometimes taking it down the night before, and going out late at night to pull the bin out onto the street in case the bin men come earlier than usual.

Now ... this what I call old:

Not only having put the bin out the night before, but looking out of window next morning and feeling smug because I did so.  Especially if it's raining.  And reporting on this achievement to my husband, expecting a pat on the back.

old

Now that's what I call old:

The other day I took a brief look at the Billboard Music Awards hashtag on Twitter, and found that I had not actually heard of any of the artistes aside from Mariah Carey (who was probably getting an award for most glamorous old timer, or something), and Taylor Swift, though I do not believe I have heard any of her records, and certainly couldn't name one.  The rest all appeared to be Korean children.

old 

You know you've crossed the Rubicon when you become aware of the restorative powers of a cup of tea and a toasted teacake.  Around 20 years ago I worked in a café in Cromer and wondered why this was the mid-afternoon snack of choice for all the pensioners who would come in.  Now, I understand.

old

'You look the same as you did when I first knew you!'

In your 50s, when you meet up with friends you've known forever but haven't seen for a while, you each think the other looks about the same.  Of course neither of you actually do, but you know each others' faces so well, and your favourable impression is helped along by the fact that you're too vain to wear your glasses, so everyone is in soft focus.

However, when you get into your 60s, you know it's all falling apart for both of you.  There are no cries of 'You don't look any different!'  Not least of all because you've given in to the glasses thing, otherwise you'd fall down the step to the loo in that nice café you've chosen for lunch.  No, you no longer automatically meet in a pub!

With my friend Abi, last Friday

old

Sometimes, when you happen across the social media bio of Gen Z people, you genuinely don't know what half of it means.

3w4, she/her, aro ace queer, Side A ... Some frog lady literally just some Amphibby guy   She/her  Perpetually stuck in Amphibia Season 2 ... zelda + OCs! demise is my blorbo - my loz comic "Destiny" 

old

'You tell me about your aches and pains, and I'll tell you about mine.'

Nowadays you might feel the cold more - and each morning you do a quick assessment of which bits hurt most: the arthritic knuckles, the arm you used to carry a heavy bag yesterday, the lower back pain, the sciatica...

My spectacular osteo-arthritic finger.  They're all varying degrees of bad, but this beauty hurts so much and constantly; I've just got used to it (and yes, I've tried everything imaginable, waiting for steroid injections!).

old

The years pass by ever more quickly...

You know how when you were a child in the 1960s or 70s, you would see pictures of your parents from the 30s and 40s and think how funny and old-fashioned they looked.  You may have recently realised that there was less time between the 30s/40s and your own childhood/teenage years, than there is between the years of your own youth, and NOW.  If you know what I mean.

Mum, early 1950s

old

'But then we grew up in a time without social media...'

You don't just think that the 1970s and 80s was a better time, you know it was.  Even the long dark teatime of the soul that was the late afternoon in on a winter Sunday, when there was nothing to watch on telly (because there were only 3 channels) and the pubs had shut at 2 pm and would not open again until 7.  What the hell, it was character-building!  

Every day, something makes you feel grateful for having your youth when you did, not least of all because you got to see all those rock bands in their heydays, because you could smoke in pubs, and there weren't any bouncers on the door and it was safe to walk home alone at night and people ate real food and had family meal times and you can remember when this was all fields.....

With various chums (and a couple of my sister, below) from about 1975 - 1980.  Bottom right, above, was with Ray, my first long-term boyfriend.  Before camera phones, digital cameras, etc... the photo booths were much used!

Cheers!

(me in 1985)

Other posts about the ageing process...

On Being Sixty

Being 50

Ghosts of #Christmas Past

I was talking to someone on Twitter today about family Christmases, and realised how long it is since I've had one!  When my parents were alive I used to love going to their house for the day, with my sister and brother (and whoever we were currently married to/living with).  As Mum and Dad got older and moved to a smaller house, and my brother and I often had other commitments, they would just spend it with Julia, but for your entertainment I've dug out a few old photos from happy family Christmas Days of 25-30 years ago.

1989

We always had a liking for playing silly games with fun photos - I remember that year we decided to do a photographic depiction of the seven deadly sins.  This is Eddie (my brother) demonstrating 'wrath' on Julia... 

...whereas Mum insisted that 'pride' could mean pride in one's country.  I have no idea how she managed to randomly produce those flags!

1993 or 4

When you get a new cosy for the toaster, it's got to go on your head.  Even better when you get two.

1995

Continuing the things-on-head theme:  while we were waiting for lunch to arrive, Eddie insisted that we make party hats, and the nearest paper available was the Sunday Telegraph.

I am sure you would agree that they're inspired!  I particularly like the old style Spanish policeman and the French Foreign Legion (which I made, I am proud to say!).  The man with the longish blonde hair is my then-boyfriend Marcus; next to him is Eddie's then-wife Debbie, and the little boy is their son Christopher, who is sadly no longer with us.  

How lovely it would be to be able to have a family Christmas like this again ~ wherever you are, I hope you enjoy yours! 

When you're at home all the time (and have been since March 2020...)

You....

• Develop satisfying projects, like re-writing your 200-book-long TBR list in order of preference, or training your eyebrows into a different shape with artful plucking.

• ...or, you notice the forest where your eyebrows used to be, and decide to stop looking in the mirror/not cut your fringe after all.  

• Experience extreme irritation if the shower gel has been put back in the wrong place (and have arguments with other household members about who committed this crime).

• Consider taking the two-minute walk up to local shop... if you can be bothered to go.  Because it means putting on boots, and a coat, and finding that damn mask, and... on the other hand, it is an outing.

• Consider putting on make-up for the occasion then realise that there is no point because the mask will cover most of it and the eyebrow-hiding fringe will cover the rest.

• Dance to the music the washing machine plays at the end of its cycle.

• Start revving up in anticipation of a new picture on the calendar, from about the 26th of each month.

• Have still not read all those books you thought you would have time for.

Are super-chatty to the Asda delivery man, 

to the extent that he has to say, 'Well, I'd better let you get on."

• Have a purse full of notes that have been there for at least six months.  Sometimes you look inside, see coins, and say, "Well, darn it, I wonder what those little bitty things are for?"

• Consider rearranging your bookshelves in colours of the rainbow.

• Get excited about your new tea towels arriving from M&S.

• Order more things you don't really need because it's so lovely to get packages.

• Discover what your real hair colour is.

• Looks at your lipsticks with a tearful nostalgia.  That's the trouble with those damn masks... oh, Mac Ripened and Kinda Sexy, how I miss you!

• Develop peculiar preferences for domestic objects; for instance, a favourite butter knife.  I have a favourite spoon for transferring the coffee from cannister to cup, and am pleased when I find it in the drawer, rather than still unwashed from the last cup.  On the other hand, I do have a back-up second best.  Now, let me tell you about my favourite spoon for transferring small amount of Flora Plant Butter from butter dish to vegetables in colander.  Only when it's spring greens, carrots and asparagus, mind... 

• Are convinced it's Sunday, even though the calendar tells you it's Thursday.  What if you've been forgetting to tear the pages off, though?  How would you know?

• Have long ago stopped listening to the current lockdown rules, and just assume you can't go anywhere or do anything.

• Get excited about a trip to Waitrose, and try on different scarf/jacket/earring combinations.

• Look at your high heels and wonder how you ever wore them.  More to the point, why.

• Feel like the characters on The Walking Dead or whichever series you are currently watching are actually your friends.

• ... and PayPal has become an online friend.

• Develop little routines that must be adhered to.  I am only one step away from having a checklist of things that must be done before bed, order of business for the morning before I start writing, etc.

• Have already bought all suitable items from the 'loungewear' section of M&S Online, and eagerly await the spring collection

• Notice that the week-per-view diary, which used to include lunches with girlfriends/reminders to book trains/hotels/all manner of appointments, etc., now reflects how Alexei Sayle described a leaflet that came through his door entitled 'What's On In Stoke Newington': 'A big sheet of paper with 'fuck all' written on it.'

• (....no, scrap that, I just saw a diary entry for Thursday!  Oh...it says 'wash towels'.)

Thank you to my sister, Julia, for her contributions!

(Please note: I realise that there are far more serious issues connected with the prolonged lockdown.  This is just a bit of fun, to lighten up a dull Monday morning... or is it Wednesday?)  

~ What To Avoid In Social Conversation ~

I saw this delightful list from late Victorian/early Edwardian times, on @serialsemantic's Twitter page, and considered how it might be translated into these days of social media conversation.

As you will see, I think some should still apply to Twitterly interaction, though others should be disregarded entirely. 😉

If you click on the item below it will be big enough to read, but I've written out each one before my Twitterly translation.  Enjoy!

1.  Do not manifest impatience.
Building a Twitter profile takes time - do not manifest impatience about your lack of interactions and retweets, or certainly not via tweet.  If a new writer, do not publicly manifest impatience about your lack of book sales.  It takes time to build up a readership, too.  Also, it might make other people wonder why no one is buying it.

2.  Do not engage in argument.
Debating differing opinions is one of the joys of conversation, online and off, but do not call someone a self-absorbed c*** if their opinion differs from yours, as happened to me a short while back. Or say that they are 'sad' because they do not perceive a situation in the same way that you do.  If someone is not willing to reasonably accept a differing point of view, it is best to bow out gracefully. Then mute the dickhead.

3.  Do not interrupt another when speaking.
If you see a conversation between two or three strangers, and you have strongly negative feelings about the subject matter being discussed, do not butt in and tell them how offended you are by their conversation.  Unless you're the sort of person who goes on Twitter to seek arguments, of course.

4.  Do not find fault, although you may gently criticise.
When you get those DMs that we all hate, in which the person (inevitably a total stranger) asks you to download their music, subscribe to their Youtube channel, review their new book, etc, do not tear them off a strip.  They may simply be ignorant of the best way to use social media.  If you wish to comment, it is more productive to suggest that this may not be the best way to promote themselves, and let them know that such an activity is considered spam.

However, if they're rude back, or continue to send them, give 'em hell.

5.  Do not talk of your private, personal or family matters.
A couple of weeks back, I saw a tweet from a woman complaining that she was having 'a particularly heavy flow this month'.   
WHY?  Why would anyone tweet that?????  😖 😩

6.  Do not appear to notice inaccuracies of speech in others.
If they want to describe themselves as 'adverse' to something, or indicate their agreement by tweeting 'Here, here!', let them.  Unless it really, really irritates you.  Some inaccuracies, such as use of 'words' like 'irregardless' and 'deteriate' might cause you to spontaneously combust if not corrected.  In these cases, priority should be given to your own well-being.

7.  Do not allow yourself to lose temper or speak excitedly.
Do not call someone a self-absorbed c*** because their opinion, politely and amicably expressed, differs from yours.  If that insult is directed towards you, report and block.  But speaking excitedly?  What is life without joyful enthusiasm?  The floor is yours!

8.  Do not allude to unfortunate peculiarities of anyone present.
Unless they are Carol Vorderman, Bojo, the far-left über-woke, etc.  In these instances, fill yer boots.

9.  Do not always commence a conversation by alluding to the weather.
But be aware that if you tweet about it, you will get more interaction on that tweet than on any other one before or since.  Much of it from people who have never spoken to you before, but feel the need to tell you that it's raining where they are.

10. Do not, when narrating an incident, continually say 'you see' or 'you know', etc.
Or those 280 characters won't go very far!

11. Do not introduce professional or other topics in which the company generally cannot take an interest.
Nah.  Do not feel scared to talk about stuff that you're enthusiastic about.  That's how you find like-minded people.  You will never please everyone, and trying to tweet only 'items of general interest' makes your profile look somewhat 'vanilla', as if you have read a book on How To Engage With Your Twitter Followers.  Your profile is your own; if you want to tweet about the sex life of the koi carp, go right ahead. 

12. Do not talk very loud.  A firm, clear, distinct, yet mild, gentle and musical voice has great power.
Do not greet someone in your Twitter feed by saying 'MORNING, FATSO!  SOLD ANY BOOKS YET TODAY?'  On the other hand, do not say, 'in my humble opinion' (IMHO) before expressing yourself; we know it's your opinion because you're saying it, and if you consider your opinion humble, so will others.

On yet another hand, it might be better to say, 'I'm not sure I agree with that' than 'You're talking out of your arse, mate'.

13. Do not be absent-minded, requiring the speaker to repeat what he has said, that you might understand.
It's perfectly acceptable to ask someone for that useful link a second time.  We all forget and lose stuff on our cluttered desktops, etc.  However, asking for a third and fourth time might get you a 😬 followed by the gritted-teeth suggestion that you keep the link somewhere you can find it.
 
14. Do not try to force yourself into the confidence of others.  If they give their confidence, never betray it.
If someone tells you in a tweet that they know a writer who sends DMs to other writers asking them to do review swaps, you'll be dying to know who it is, won't you?  Go on, ask them to tell you in a DM.  Just once.  If they don't reply, don't ask again.

And if they tell YOU in a DM that they haven't sold a book in three months, do not report this to anyone else.   

15. Do not intersperse your language with foreign words and high-sounding terms.  It shows affectation and will draw ridicule on you.
Or, at the very least, will make people mentally label you as pretentious.  It actually shows insecurity, but does not impress, as hoped; it usually has the opposite effect.

16. Do not aspire to be a great storyteller; an inveterate teller of long stories becomes very tiresome.  To tell one or two witty, short, new stories, appropriate to the occasion, is about all that one person should inflict on the company.
Do not use Twitter to detail, in a thread of tweets, the injustices caused to you by an former romantic partner, unless you already have an audience of online friends who have previously expressed their interest and concern, and are waiting for details of the latest developments.  If not, it will make you look like a nutcase.

~ Do unto other Twitter users as you would have them do unto you ~

(ideally....)

😉 😉

On Being Sixty

In August this year, I was sixty. 😮😮😱

Forty is sobering, fifty is a 'how the hell did that happen?' moment, but sixty—well, the big 6-0 takes you to a whole new, previously unimaginable stage of the ageing process.  When anyone asks me how old I am (medical people, etc), I want to say 'which totally freaks me out' after I've said 'sixty'.

I read somewhere that forty is the old age of youth, and fifty is the youth of old age.  Sixty, though, is just old.

The other day it occurred to me that I may actually be classed as a 'senior citizen' (the official age of such a definition varies).  This seems completely ludicrous.  I feel like I've moved from my racketing around, chaotic younger years to being an old lady, without having the mature adult decades in between.  I've somehow managed to skip that part, perhaps because I spent my forties in the pub/immersed in ill-advised relationships, and my fifties sitting at my laptop writing books. 

My 60th birthday cake - a Walking Dead cake, made by Ema of Dotty About Cakes

Of course, my twilight years crept up on me during my late fifties.  The usual stuff—more achy bits, more pills to take, going off alcohol and worrying about my B12 and D3 intake, saying, "Oh God" instead of "Oh good" when invited out on social occasions, and the increased padding round the middle that isn't going anywhere soon, because I don't care enough to do anything about it.

When I was younger I thought being this old would be ghastly.  For a start, I thought the end of romantic adventures would mean that life was totally dullsville—I didn't realise that your desire to have them decreases at exactly the same rate as the likelihood of them happening.  Having been happily married for the past decade-ish, I now wonder how I had the energy.  Now, if anything happened to my husband, I am convinced I would remain single for the rest of my life, and contentedly so.

Two months before this milestone birthday I decided to do something I haven't done for ages: I would lose at least a stone for my birthday, and everyone would fall down in amazement about how slim and glamorous I looked.  Of course the diet lasted less than one day, and they didn't.  I met up with a few family members and old friends, looking just the same as I always do, and that was just fine; another positive, I suppose—kidding myself I was going to diet was just the last hangover from my younger days.  The loose tops are here to stay.

In Cromer, on the last evening of my fifties (wearing one of large selection of very loose tops!).

Something I had forgotten about, which is another of the upsides of this age, is that you get free and cheap stuff!  I didn't even realise I got prescriptions free until I went to pay for one, a few weeks after my birthday.  And I've got a senior railcard, which rocks my world—I can travel first class for less than the price of an normal ticket, before!

In Cromer, on the second morning of my sixties - now I am officially old, I dare post no-make-up photos without a care!

On the whole, I rather like being old, aside from the fact that I worry I have a terminal illness with every twinge, and I wish I just had more time—will I have enough years to write all the books I want to write?  To read and watch and learn about everything that interests me?  

I regret all the time wasted on stupid stuff, in some ways, but don't in other ways because it's taught me a lot, and provided material for novels!  I began to take my health seriously several years ago, when I stopped smoking; I scarcely drink now, and am fanatical about nutrition—and that stuff works.  Since I've been an almost-vegan and started making sure I have all necessary vitamins and minerals every day, certain aspects of my health have improved greatly.

....but, having said that, I have far less physical energy and strength than I used to have.  However many moisturisers I use, sixty is not the new forty.  Sixty is sixty.  I realised that when my sister (age 62) and I went to Hever Castle and Penshurst Place for the day with our friend Gemma, who is in her late thirties.  After several hours on our feet, Julia and I had aching backs and felt quite desperate to sit down.  Gemma was just fine, as we would have been at her age.

Another slight downside is that sometimes you feel as though the world is escaping from you.  I remember my mother saying, in her seventies, "I don't like this world anymore.  I'm glad I was born when I was", and I have begun to feel the same over the last few years, particularly as technology advances to scifi films level.  I'm glad I was a child in the 1960s and a teenager in the 1970s, that I remember those times.  I think it's probably the same for everyone, whenever they were born.  Sometimes I look at Twitter bios of the young and think, "I wonder what all that stuff actually means?"

The fun part, though, is that when you are old you get to make broad generalisations about the youth of today.  

 
On the other hand, it is not only old farts like me who make broad generalisations.  A while back, on Twitter, I made a harmless joke on the trend for describing oneself as 'pansexual'.  (I actually said I was 'napsexual', ie, too lazy and would rather go to sleep).  Some young chap had a right go at me, saying I was mocking a genuine sexuality. He practically accused me of a hate crime, and said that 'my generation' were all pro-Trump, pro-Brexit homophobes.  He really did say that, I'm not making it up.

I thought about this for a while, and sent him a polite DM to point out that it was actually my generation and the one before who fought all the battles, so that people of his age could claim any lifestyle/sexuality they want in their bios without fear of mockery or prejudice.  He didn't want to see that, though.  Especially not when I suggested that it was he who was bigoted, not me.

Possibly my favourite birthday card this year, from my friend Sharon

Generally, though, I get less het up about stuff than I did when I was younger, but that could be because I don't have children to worry about.  I just want a quiet life.  And I think you get more happy in your own skin, as it were, when you get older.  Which is just as well, because it's the only one you've got.

I wonder if I will be writing a similar sort of post in ten years' time, when I'm seventy?

Probably the best sort of 60 year old photo - hair safely over the face!