Once again my birthday has come round and I’m another year older. In some ways I don’t mind being 68, after all I’ve put the time in, the full 68 years. A few years ago I retired. Once upon a time I loved my job, I mean really loved it, so much so I hated to have time off but in the last few years I went the other way. I hated it and after a long spell of being at home because of Covid and also helping Liz who had just had a hip replacement and needed assistance for a while, I really wasn’t keen on going back. I used up all of my remaining holidays, looked at my financial situation and realised I could retire about 6 months early. So I did! Those 6 months before my state pension kicked in were a little tough financially but what the heck, I was glad to be finished with work.
I’ve had quite a few jobs that I was glad to be saying goodbye to but there was always a new job to look forward to. This time there wasn’t and so this blog post has now become my work. It keeps me going, it keeps me creating and best of all, it keeps me thinking.
The other thing about being 68 which I’m not happy about is the state of my 68 year old body. Although much of it seems to work there is quite a lot that doesn’t. My neck is sore although happily it’s not painful (at the moment) but it doesn’t seem to turn that well. My back is the main problem though. It hurts quite a lot and sometimes it’s hard to sleep. Getting in and out of a car is difficult. I tend to get in as far as I can, aim myself at the seat and then just fall in. One day, I’m sure, I’m going to get the aim wrong and then just plonk down into the road. So far, that hasn’t happened.
Recently Pete, one of our favourite taxi drivers, has got himself a new taxi. He used to have a traditional black hackney cab. Lots of room and easy to get into. The other day he picked us up driving a car which I first thought was a Range Rover. It’s not a Range Rover and the crazy thing is that on the outside it looks pretty big but on the inside it’s actually really small and the last time we used Pete I actually hurt my back trying to squeeze in. Sorry Pete but we’ll be calling someone else next time.
image courtesy wikipedia
Of course, getting old isn’t all bad news. I’ve got a free bus pass which is quite handy. I can’t say I use it a great deal but travelling on the bus is much more comfortable than Pete’s taxi. (Sorry Pete) Also I am now eligible for those pensioners’ meal deals you sometimes see in pubs.
Not so long ago we went for Sunday lunch and I noticed the sign for the senior citizens’ meal which was almost half the normal price. Well, I thought, I’ll have some of that. We got in the queue for the carvery and the server handed me my plate. I handed him my ticket, he looked at it then took my plate back and gave me a half size one. Whoa, what’s this about I asked? It turned out that was the reason for the cheap price, it’s a smaller meal for us old age pensioners. That’s all very well but so far, despite being old, I’ve still got the same size stomach and I’ve still got a young man’s appetite. Anyway, the server gave me a really funny look when he saw me going back to my table with this small plate piled about a foot high with roast potatoes, Yorkshire pud, mash, carrots and sprouts.
Before we went on holiday to France, I went to see my physiotherapist and he gave me a real pummelling on my back muscles but advised me not to sit for too long. Try and get up every hour or so and do some exercises he said. Over in France we spent a week at a villa we rent every year and despite the pool not being too warm I tried to swim every day. The rest of the time when we parked our motorhome by a swimming lake I took some exercise in there too but here at home there isn’t much scope to swim a lot. I don’t like swimming baths so I really need to get up and do a little walking especially when I’ve been working hard on a story or a blog post.
Looking back at some of my older posts I see that 8 years ago when I was a relatively young fellow I looked at how society has changed during my life. When I was a school kid there were no mobile phones, no internet and wireless was an old fashioned term for the radio. Mail was something that was written down on paper, put into an envelope and popped into the letterbox. I even remember when you could go into a pub and ask for a pint of mild without the barman looking at you and asking what’s that? I remember the days when we only had two TV channels and both were black and white, at least they were on our TV set. When you went out you needed cash and you had to queue up at the bank to get it and if you needed to make a phone call while you were out, you needed some change to put into a pay phone.
Number 23 anyone?
Getting back to the present, this year I removed my birthday from Facebook. Who needs all that fuss I thought? Anyway, the day before the big day I was out with friends at our local Italian restaurant and suddenly the lights went down, the staff came out with a cake singing happy birthday, and then went right past me to another table. My friends thought it was really funny. Later, same thing happened again, lights down, happy birthday and once again, the cake and the staff went to another table. My group thought this was really hilarious as they know I hate a fuss. Anyway, the third time it happened I was confident that the cake was going somewhere else but it came to me. Actually, I kind of enjoyed it.
My birthday fell on our usual Thursday quiz night. We ate in Olivers, a small place not far from home. Olivers doesn’t serve alcohol so you have to take your own. We don’t mind as it cuts those expensive restaurant wines right out of the picture and we bring some specially imported French Merlot along.
Over at the quiz everything went ok and then I noticed number 23 in the picture round. Who was that fresh faced youth looking very 1970’s? Yes that was me. Not many people got a point for that one but the team next to us thought it was a young Roger Moore. Yes, I can see the resemblance . .
Letters from an Unknown Author! 
your number 23 picture was a nice touch. Were you shaken and not stirred? ok, I’ll get me coat!
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Get your coat Paul 😀
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