Two Old Codgers

How the World strikes us

OLD AGE
I knew an old couple - let me qualify that, I would have been in my late fifties so they must have been very old, let's say late seventies. In all the time I knew them I never heard Matthew swear or say a bad word. Always softly spoken and a truly gentle man. I saw them one day and she was obviously not very well and he, equally, was obviously concerned. As I shook his hand he said very quietly "You know Arthur, old age is a bugger!"

This came to mind the other day and it started me off on a blog. I thought of what was good about being old. The results were unexpected and, in some case, quite entertaining.

Retirement is good. I don't have to get up five days a week to drive through
Frigging Traffic
queues of traffic to get to work.

At one stage I used to worry about my appearance but it's such a relief in a morning not worry about the bald patch on the top of my head, plus the fact I don't recognise the wrinkled old sod looking back at me from the mirror.

I look forward to my regular breakfast of high fibre cereal, toast and honey and that used to concern me, the fact that I was allowing life to become a series of routines. A routine for getting up in a morning, dressing - you know, socks first then underpants, never the other way round. Now it's such a comfort not having to think about it. I simply slip into 'Automatic pilot' for so many daily activities.

There comes a stage where you wonder about the speed at which your m
Martbles
arbles are falling through the hole in your mental bag. I remember (at least I think I do) puzzling over whether Cliff Thorburn played for Manchester United or Liverpool. Now I don't give a toss,

When you are young, you know, in your seventies, there are major worries, the state of the economy; is Vladimir Putin a real threat; will Donald Trump become President; the melting of the Polar Ice; is the Peruvian Four Toed Pangolin close to extinction? Now that I am older I have managed to put those worries down and concentrate on the important matters - what to have for my evening meal; will the black shoes, the ones I wear every day, see me
Worn Out Shoes
out or will I have to go on Ebay and buy myself another pair; is butter cheaper at Aldi or Lidl; if I have another piece of Fruit and Nut will it increase my weight.

My health used to concern me. I thought I had prostate cancer but it turned out to be just a swollen prostate. That's another benefit of old age, now I can go for a pee without worrying about wetting the bathroom floor.

Old Man in Boat
When I was fifty, death was a concern, would I make it to fifty-five? These days I know that any time now there will be a shout from the side of the boating lake "Come in number 22 your time's up". Don't get me wrong, I don't want to die but that's another good thing about old age, when it does happen, for this old sod, all the Worlds' problems, all my concerns, the price of butter, the Peruvian Four Toed Pangolin, none of it will matter a jot.

One real concern is where have all my friends gone? I look at the list where I keep all the names and addresses of people to whom I send Christmas cards, or at least to whom I
should send cards. There are quite a few I don't recognise, they can be wiped out but there seem to be lots of names missing. What happened to Fred, Timothy and George for starters. I seem to recollect going to a funeral last year. Was that George or was that Alec? Ah ! What the heck, I'll give five quid to the hospice and forget cards. That'll do a darned sight more good.

I know it's only October but if you read this 'Merry Christmas'.

All I want for Christmas

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