It’s my birthday later this week. Given the title of this post, you may want to hazard a guess as to how old I’ll be….
Well done. Did you immediately think of the classic Beatles song from Sergeant Pepper?
Me too.
Sergeant Pepper came out in 1967 (fiftieth anniversary next year: how scary is that?), when I was a mere lad of 15. Back then, being 64 years old was almost unimaginable. Of course, I knew people who had attained this ripe old age: I had a full complement of grandparents for a start, but I could never imagine getting that far myself. Although, to be fair, I probably didn’t give the matter much thought.
When you’re a 15 year old boy you tend to have other, more pressing things on your mind. Like ‘O’-levels and…stuff.
Now, though, I find myself having (almost) negotiated the intervening 49 years more or less succesfully and largely intact (a few of the teeth didn’t make it, but have been replaced with superior versions) and it set me thinking about how the reality of being 64 compares to the rather quaint picture sketched in Paul McCartney’s lyrics.
Unless you’re of a certain age (i.e. mine) you may need a reminder of those words. Come to think of it, when you’re 64 you need a reminder about most things.
It would be more than a little dull to reproduce these lyrics in their entirety, although if you want to check up on them, they can be found here. Rather, I thought it might be interesting to pick out their most salient points and see how they’ve turned out for me.
‘When I get older, losing my hair’ Thankfully not. It’s genetic.
‘If I’d been out till quarter to three, would you lock the door?’ Quarter to three? in the morning? At my age? You must be joking. Best not to risk it anyway.
‘I could be handy mending a fuse’ Only if you’ve got a death wish.
‘Doing the garden, digging the weeds’ Who, me? Lawnmowing and anything requiring simply brute force and ignorance is the limit of my remit. Especially ignorance.
‘We shall scrimp and save’ Bugger that for a lark, Been there, done that. Life’s too short – especially if you’re 64.
‘Every summer we can rent a cottage in the Isle of Wight’ The only time I’ve been to the Isle of Wight was for the Festival in 1970. I’m sure it’s lovely, but it doesn’t feature in my travel plans.
So there are half a dozen lines of the song that don’t apply to me. However, there are others that actually chime pretty well:
‘Sunday mornings go for a ride’ Quite possibly, at least in the summer months. All those fêtes des fleurs and vide-greniers won’t mooch round themselves, after all.
‘Grandchildren on your knee’ I’ve certainly had grandchildren on my knee (which you would never imagine when you’re 15). Although they’re not called Vera, Chuck or Dave.
‘Indicate precisely what you mean to say’ Always a good idea.
‘Will you still need me, will you still feed me?’ So far, so good. Phew.
And here’s the one that nails it:
‘Who could ask for more?’ Indeed.
I noticed you’ve changed your template. Just who in Sam Hill do you think you are my friend? You’ll be altering your Facebook avatar to one of a dead celebrity next!
I find your behaviour; sickening, educational, searingly erotic and redolent with the acrid stench of extremism.
Oh….you’re just saying that, flatterer. There seemed to be rather a lot of sunsets being used as header images, so I traded it in for this Van Gogh. Facebook, you say? Sorry, new one on me, old boy.
Facebook is a little like Twitter. Just as Neolithic man was a little like Albert Einstein.
Venture there at your peril. Only misery, degradation and cat video clips await you.
Someone else just posted this same song on their blog this week. Can’t think who it was, but I listened to it, having not heard it in a while. Happy number 64 🙂
Thank you kindly.
Not there yet, getting close, but no being out to quarter to 3:00 – nicely done.
Thanks very much. 11pm is about my limit these days, although I always was more of a morning person.
I hope you had a wonderful birthday! Happy Belated Birthday!
I certainly did. Thank you.