I am, of course, aware that of the 10 people who regularly read this blog, the majority, if not all of you, are slightly older than I am. So I appreciate you all being very patient with me as I whinge on about turning 50. I wonder how you felt in the days leading up to this particular number? (I thank you for pointing out you felt no different afterwards.) Probably you made less of a big deal about it. I don't remember getting this obsessed in the run-up to my 40th, and when I checked back on the old blog, all I did was list a favourite song for each year I'd been alive... a list that would no doubt have changed were I to do it again today, although We Hate The Kids would still be my pick for 2008.
As I approach 50 though, all I seem to be able to do is obsess over car engines. After yesterday's post about the engine fire, I've been thinking a lot about the first car I had, a light blue Ford Fiesta, and how it never liked to start on cold, damp mornings. My dad kept an old hair-dryer in the garage and we'd regularly be out there using it to heat up / dry out the connectors on the battery until the car would stutter into life. All those mornings spent crouched over the engine, angling the hair dryer just right...
I'm not sure there's a metaphor there, but I still can't stop thinking about it.
Jarvis Cocker is 9 years older than me, so when he wrote this tune about his own fear of growing old, he was a sprightly 34 years old. Hard to believe, eh?
I think I read somewhere that 50's the new 40. So there's hope for you yet!
ReplyDeleteHad a tray of sand to catch the oil drips from my first car. And a spray can of carburettor cleaner to get it started on "reluctant" days. Oh, and living on top of a hill helped for bump starts.
ReplyDeleteCars are just better, these days, aren't they? Even the rubbish ones.
Ah, we must all have had so much more time in the olden days, when waiting for the car to warm up was just the norm. Similarly the telly. Open up the wooden shutter across its screen, press down the big clunky ON button at the top and twiddle your thumbs for five minutes before the Woodentops.
ReplyDeleteYou ask about how we felt leading up to our 50ths, and for some reason mine didn't feel such a big turning point as my 30th. That's the one that I remember feeling strangest about, coming out of my 20s. I'm not sure how good I'll feel about approaching my 'big' birthday next year though, so I do get it!
Just another day older and from what I can make out, you still have your hair, you have a job you enjoy, you have a lovely wee family and you're not going to have to go through menopause. You also have Ben to have conversations with and all of us oldies to make you feel young. It's all looking pretty good from where I'm sitting so less of this feeling sorry for yourself (although I know it's not always that simple).
ReplyDeleteAs for cars, I was thinking the other day that I can't remember the last time I checked the oil and water levels - I used to check them every week under the bonnet of my Austin Metro back in the '80s.
No-one's first car started on cold damp mornings. My first car (white and rust coloured Vauxhall Chevette) was wrapped in a blanket overnight. It felt like the right thing to do, but made no real difference
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