I remember it well, Sunday night listening to the chart show on the radio, Mam combing lumps out of my long red hair looking for nits. Eating the left-overs from Sunday lunch for supper and watching my Dad making his sandwiches for the early shift down the pit. They looked old to me then, even though they were both not yet 30! My Dad unfortunately died at the age of 52, so he never actually got to be old…my Mother is now 74 years young and apart from some aches and pains she is doing well and still looks pretty good for a wrinkly! The drudgery that caused premature old age is now thankfully long gone for most of us.
So what should we do with the extra time we now apparently have because we are all living longer? Should we calm down and relax into our dotage, do a bit of knitting maybe or join a senior citizens group and go to tea dances, (perish the thought)? Or should we plan for more exciting times when we finally finish work at 67 or there about?
When I got to 40, which is where life is supposed to begin, I decided that I was going to do something each year that I had always wanted to do…the first thing was to get a tattoo. So I did, I’m not sure that my children approved but if they didn’t, they never said it out loud. I started dying my hair all manner of colours and I still do. At the moment it is copper with, blonde, orange and purple bits and I have no intention to ever go back to boring blonde highlights. This though, is where my intended brave new world stopped and now my friends, it needs a kick start again.
Working on the ‘life begins at 40 theory’ I am now 13, so really I should be an antagonistic, spot squeezing grumpy teenager. I should be playing on any one of my electronic gadgets, texting constantly even when it’s not allowed (e.g. in lessons), lying in bed until 3pm at weekends and giving my parents ‘lip’ about anything and everything. Oh and getting drunk in the park after persuading some adult to get me some booze from the local supermarket.
By the time I reach 60, I should be acting like a 20 year old. So I think I will book myself a club 18-30 holiday, start drinking shots after every glass of wine, dress in a pelmet, vest top and 6 inch heels in the middle of winter and vomit on a pavement, after leaving the Pub and missing my taxi home.
Following this, I will get myself arrested for flashing my boobs to every Policeman in the vicinity. I would then put the pictures on Facebook and have my so-called friends (some of which I won’t even know) embarrass me by tagging me in their pictures with my tongue down the throat of the bouncer (sound familiar)?
After thinking long and hard about the growing old thing, I have decided I would not want to be a teenager or a 20 year old again but as for being over the hill…I’m not even half way up. There is so much more I want to do, so pass my iPad, I must log in to Twitter find out what’s going down in the world. I will then text my friends and update my Facebook profile…there’s life in the old dog yet. I could be the next born again Screenager! …………………Granny