scrapheapstuart3

I lost my glasses today. It’s becoming a more regular occurrence. My wife, Chris, often has the same problem. Forgetfulness is a sign of that dreaded phenomenon: ageing. It’s something that happens to us all sooner or later. I looked everywhere for them but to no avail. So I dug out my spare pair and remembered my late mum’s sound advice — if you can’t find something, stop looking and eventually it will find you. It worked, as half an hour later I found them under a newspaper which I had been using my glasses to read. The spares have now been carefully secreted back in the 3rd kitchen drawer down. Hot tip — always store important items in the same place, so the habit of looking there becomes ingrained.

So this is yet another blog about ageing. Groan! Groan! All readers under 60 can now click off. My excuse for writing about it is — yes, you’ve guessed it — I am irrevocably getting older. They say you should write about what you know. I have reached my mid 70s. I’ve got to the age where I like telling people how old I am, so they can hopefully stroke my ego and say “Well, you don’t look it.” I always hang back when paying at the barber’s to see if he/she is going to charge me the pensioner’s price or the one for “normal” people. Once, last year, one of them asked “You’re not 65 are you?” “No”, I replied, “I’m not….. I’m 75!” Boom Boom! So now you know — I’m old enough to remember Basil Brush. ( For the uninitiated, that irritatingly smug, little fox originally graced our screens back in the 1960s)

I’ve just returned from my monthly meet up with 2 former teaching colleagues who have now developed into long term friends. It’s a sort of “Last of the Summer Wine” scenario. ( another blast from the past.) We go for a walk, chew the cud, try to solve all the problems of the world, then enjoy a meal together. We take it in turns to host. Each meet-up now inevitably starts with an “organ recital” as one of my friends, Alex, joked. We compare illnesses and ailments of our own and of those around us. We are all in our 8th decade so have plenty to talk about, although compared to many of our generation, we are still pretty fit and healthy. Our latest discussion included: hearing aids, prostates, colonoscopies, cystoscopies, doctors, nurses, dentists, vaccinations, opticians and hospital visits. Health usually trumps the weather as our generation’s favourite topic of conversation. Sometimes I think of myself as a vintage car, parked in a quiet cul-de-sac, viewing all the sleek new hybrids, Teslas and automatics that have come along to replace me.

It’s worrying that others of our age group have already fallen by the wayside. Just recently we lost the Teesside pop/rock singer Chris Rea, aged 74 and Bob Weir, original member of the hallowed Grateful Dead, aged only 78. David Bowie didn’t even make it to 70 although, to be fair, he did live life in a very fast lane. Every time somebody famous from my generation passes away, it makes me sit up and become aware of my own mortality. Then I get into a slight panic as I have: so many things I still want to do, so many books on my shelves yet to read, so much music to enjoy, so many places in the world left to visit. With the passing of the years, I know the number of opportunities to do exciting and interesting stuff are gradually dwindling. It’s like a slowly closing window.

I love travelling to new destinations, especially abroad. It’s one of my life-long passions. Since retirement in 2006 I have had the time and since my occupational pension was joined by the state pension, I have had the money to go on plenty of exciting and fascinating trips. The 3rd requirement to feed one’s wanderlust is good health which I still luckily have. So the opportunity to have great adventures is still there and I have plenty of plans in the pipeline. This year I plan to visit Belgium, Italy (where Chris has close family), Denmark, Sweden and Egypt. One thing missing from these plans however is a long haul trip. My days of back packing through south -east Asia or trecking the Inca trail to Machu Picchu in Peru are sadly over. Just for the record I did the former but never got round to doing the latter. Now it’s probably too late. The energy levels are not what they were and Chris and I no longer want to rough it or endure the strain and discomfort of a long flight. Also, something I never anticipated when I was younger — the anxiety levels are starting to rise, leading to the vetoing of holidays that offer unknowns and potential complications. We now think of the problems more than the opportunities. We had an absolutely fabulous trip to Japan just over 2 years ago, the best holiday we have ever had. However any thought of returning has now been overwhelmed by the “what ifs.” What if one of us is ill? What if we get robbed or scammed? What if we lose our passports? What if we get too tired to complete the itinerary? What if we miss one of our flights? After several discussions, it has been “officially” agreed that we are not going back this year and, given our age, it looks like we never will. If Dr Who lent us his Tardis we would go like a shot. But we cannot face the extremely long, debilitating journey, the change of time zones and subsequent disruption of our body clocks, the alien food which might play havoc with our tummies, or the constant stress of catching trains, planes and buses and worrying whether we are going to make connections. I told you — we have become big time worriers! Thus we have chosen the safer and easier option of European city breaks, just a few hours away.

Some people circumvent the problems and worries of finding their way round a strange country by going on an all-in escorted tour. It seems to be the easiest and most obvious option. But now that we have reached a certain age, Chris and I find it a strain to follow someone else’s itinerary, often involving early starts and constantly moving on. On a recent escorted tour in Turkey, excellent as it was, we resented being told when to get up, when to eat breakfast, where we were going to visit and how long we were allowed to stay. We had ceded our independence and control in exchange for peace of mind. It’s a difficult equation to balance.

Dropping energy levels is another factor that has closed our window of opportunity just a little bit more. However, I don’t want this to turn into a sob, sob story. We still hopefully have plenty of exciting experiences ahead of us even though they will be gradually nearer and nearer to home.

Ageing is just another chapter in life that we have to get on and deal with. I am lucky that I have not yet succumbed to any serious illnesses. I would like to think that I would make the most of what life has to offer for as long as I can. Thus far it has thrown up various problems but none that are unsurmountable. As Woody Allan said in “Annie Hall” ( one of my favourite films): “A problem is an opportunity in disguise.” I used that quote in a job interview once, and got the job! Afterall, life often involves problem solving. So now I am looking forward to visiting Scandinavia instead of the Far East. I read with the aid of prescription glasses. I put my National Health hearing- aids in when I switch on the telly or meet up with people for conversation. I go for 5 mile walks in the countryside instead of 10. I go to bed earlier and often have a little lie in. I keep taking the tablets. ( don’t worry – nothing serious.) And I remember to put my glasses in the third kitchen drawer down. ( unless I mislay them first.)