I've had a very strange couple of days, agewise. (I hate those -wise words, but I couldn't think of one that was more fitting.) I know that,by virtue of the year of my birth, I am no spring chicken. Whether I actually feel that old depends on so many changeables. Who I am with, what the weather is like, what I am doing at the time, how much sleep I've had, and so on. You get my drift. But most of all it is the reactions of others, and how you relate to them. The worst experience I have had will be familiar to anyone over the age of 50. A visit to the doctor will elicit the deathly phrase, 'It's to do with your age'. I will give you two examples of recent 'agist' experiences.
Last night we went to Malvern Theatre to see Sandi Toksvig. I'd been trying to get tickets for a performance of hers for years, always missing out. So we braved the vagaries of the dreadful parking to go. Now Sandi is about 14 years younger than me, but she was talking about problems of ageing. One of the problems rang a bell with me. She suggested that it is possible to suffer from deja vu and amnesia at the same time. 'I'm sure I've forgotten this before.' Well, yes. Recognise that. Also the splendid story about giving up 'tiny' knickers on her 50th birthday! But come off it Sandi. If you feel like this at your relatively young age how am I expected to feel having 14 more years 'in my dish' as they used to say in the Regency period? But she did redeem herself at the end. There is a wonderful way of cheering yourself up, and she had the entire audience doing it at the end. Play 'Ode to Joy' very loudly, stand up, and conduct with vigour. Splendid! Great physical exercise as well as the lift to the spirits.
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| A gentleman? |
Two days ago I had one of 'those' phonecalls. You know the sort of thing. A complete stranger trying to 'help' you claim for missold PPI, or trying to get you a better mortgage, or......! Always the same foreign female voice under a different name, and a script to follow regardless. These I just hang up on, though I am tempted to just put the phone down and walk away, leaving the line open so they can't use theirs! This one, however, was different. It was an extremely cheery chap, on a clear line, (he said London and I am inclined to believe him) trying to sell me 'carbon off-sets'. After a very friendly conversation I explained that, good as his offer was, my husband and I were both pensioners and hadn't any money to spare. His instant reply to this was 'Gosh, you don't sound old enough to be a pensioner!' That lad will go far! Whether it was just a line or not, it did wonders for my morale. And that's what it's all about.
This reminds me. A friend asked what was the definition of a gentleman. I have two. The first would apply to the gentleman on the telephone. It's a man who makes the lady he is with feel like a lady. It has nothing to do with morals, and everything to do with morale boosting. I know very few who fit that criteria, a handful perhaps. One actually ended up in prison, twice, but I still think of him fondly because of the huge boost to my morale when he was around. This picture is good because I met the gentleman when he was playing cricket. The other definition is a bit more raunchy. A gentleman is a man who has callouses on his elbows!
But back to ageing. There has been a lot of publicity recently about the desirability of everyone over the age of 50 taking statins as a matter of course. I have taken every statin available. Each and every one has produced the most debilitating side effects (what the gentleman suggesting everyone takes them describes as 'minor') which resulted in an inability almost to put one foot in front of another. My specialist now agrees with me, I am much better without them. So I stopped taking them, and feel about 20+ years younger.
Ageing is so much more than years. It's a state of mind. Sandi Toksvig did remind me of my years, but in such a way as to make it a laughing matter, something to joke about. As we get older many of the things that seemed so necessary in our youth fade into insignificance. Comfort is, to a degree, more important than fashion, hence the 'big knickers'. We know who we are, and are content with that. More power to our elbows I say.
