Heavens, doesn’t time fly? And, more importantly, why is it so difficult to say something important without resorting to cliches? Let’s start with the first poser, about how time slips by without us noticing, and we’ll consider the second if we still have time. It is over three months since I last wrote on this blog – Chris Froome wasn’t yet Tour de France champion, summer was waiting to burst upon us (we’re still waiting) and the Queen was proudly expecting the birth of her first great-grandchild. Just where did that time go? I wish I could tell you but, to tell the truth, I just don’t know. So perhaps this is a pertinent pause instead to sit down and consider something other than bicycles – let us consider, say, the cycle of life.
But what could I possibly say about the passing of time that is new or original? No thought, no idea is truly original – someone else has surely thought the same thing previously (except this thought, of course). So that is why I use Grammarly to check for plagiarism because if I’m thinking someone else’s thoughts, I want to know just who it was that thought them first. I think.
But I digress. We were talking about the passing of time. Perhaps this question is weighing heavily on me right now because I have a birthday coming up soon. And when I say birthday, I mean a BIG birthday (and don’t tell me that every birthday is bigger than the last – I know that). But this birthday is the biggest that I’ve had yet, and the roundest. Sixty. There. I said it. Out loud (well, I typed it out loud). I can’t believe that I’m about to turn 60. I mean, I don’t feel like I’m 60. I don’t look 60, do I? In fact, I feel like I’m still 21. To this day I look at 36-year-olds and think how grown up they are, and that maybe one day I too will be that grown up. What would you expect when my mother still treats me as if I was 12.
So I must still be 21. At least, in my head I am, even if my body doesn’t always listen straight away to my 21-year-old brain. And before you say anything, there’s nothing wrong with this body (apart from a touch of arthritis in the little finger) and there’s nothing I can’t do now that I could do when I was 21, except maybe I do it a little slower now. But that’s because I have more patience, and I know how to enjoy life.
I do understand the process of ageing, really. I even enjoy some of the jokes about it. But somehow I just don’t seem to comprehend that it is something that’s happening to me. Maybe sub-consciously I’m just trying to ignore it. Maybe I’m just being childish and pretending it’s not happening to me – like a brat who shuts his eyes, blocks his ears and shouts: “Na-na-na-na-na-na. It’s not happening.” Maybe. But then, if that’s what I do, maybe it’s some kind of defence mechanism against ageing. And I believe that it works for me. Perhaps I could patent it, bottle it up and sell it. But that would take time, and effort. It’s so much easier just to ignore it. And then perhaps age, much like time, will just slip away without us noticing.
Me, sixty, eh? Who’d have believed it? I suppose it’s time to start behaving myself, even if I can’t grow up.
*This posting is my first commercial blog and was sponsored byGrammarly, a website that promotes the correct use of English. I submitted this piece to Grammarly’s online service and it reported 53 critical issues: one of plagiarism, eight of contextual spelling, 18 of grammar, six of punctuation and 20 style and word choices. Of course, being the old codger that I am, I chose to ignore them all.