Memoirs of a MADman*
erhaps the best thing about getting to retirement age is that you have already done all the difficult stuff in life like: childbirth, puberty, GCSEs, conversing with the opposite sex, careers, toadying up to the boss, dancing with some semblance of co-ordination and rhythm in a public place, driving tests, feigning interest in conversations, nappy changing, teenagers, mortgages, PTA social gatherings and losing your virginity (and not necessarily in that order).
Last week when I wrote that being of retirement age was preferable to being middle-aged I received a few choice comments from retirement age people I know.
I don’t know that many to be honest. Ok, so I’m talking about my mum here.
As much as I hate to disagree with my dear mum, I stand by my assertion that things ‘aint so bad when you become ‘truly old’.
When you are retirement age, you can say and do pretty much whatever you want to anyone and at any time and still get away with it.
And the more outrageous, baffling and vitriolic the better. Such behaviour when you were young was considered the acts of a stroppy, sulky and