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Darlings… July 13, 2006

Posted by BiB in Uncategorized.
I think middle age has crept up on me and firmly ensconced itself. Which is bliss. I can now out myself as being almost addicted to Billy Joel (can anyone make that link work?), I have two pairs of sandals – I did only have one but the Russian, who has mysteriously become loaded, from I don’t really know what, but there are horses’ heads and barrels of oil strewn and sloshing around the place and a solid gold helicopter now sits on our street, much to the bemusement of the residents of the 100%-long-term-unemployment house across the road, and he insisted on buying me another pair as he says the Thai ones from 1854 were just TOO disgusting. The new ones are nice, and an Italian could get away with wearing them and looking cool, whereas I just look like a pink, English poof in sandals – and my head is resplendent in grey hair, although I did, admittedly, accidentally singe my fringe earlier today when I decided, for kicks, to set the lighter to flamethrower setting, and that has sped the onset of sexy greyness along nicely.

So middle age it is then. No more going out on the pull. No more having to want to do things and see places. No more pretending to want to give up smoking. No more cringing at wanting a glass/half-bottle of red at lunchtime. No blushing at admitting I don’t know who/where Portishead are/is. No pretending, even for a billionth of a fleeting moment, that I have to feign interest and not yawn obscenely ostentatiously if someone mentions Macau’s Portuguese business culture. (This happened once, and it was a couple discussing it. I assume they split up that evening. I think it was meant to impress.)

Darlings, especially those under 35, get yourselves put to sleep for however many years it takes and wake up cosily middle-aged. Anyway, can’t stop. I’ve got to go and ring a cab to get it to deliver some fags.



1. Bowleserised - July 13, 2006

I’m still trying to regress, in much the same way that a pregnant friend told me she was a bit bored with the whole gestation thing and was trying to reabsorb the sprog. It didn’t work, but he’s a devilishly cute little thing.

2. Wyndham - July 13, 2006

Good on you. In a crapulously middle-age stlye moment of madness I decided to put all my old movies videos onto the computer. I’m unemployed, bear with me here. It’s been a steadily depressing experience as you watch yourself grow older and fatter and greyer before your very eyes. Even two years ago I was a fine figure of a man, now what’s happened? I don’t know, but I don’t like it. I was 50 minutes of running down the gym today. Christ, that’s boring.

3. annie - July 13, 2006

Grey hair, check, red wine, check… oh no, BiB, I turn 35 in a week, when I intend to stop smoking. I’m just kidding myself…?

4. BiB - July 13, 2006

B., I know for a fact that you’re frightfully young, but at least you’re not 19, which would just be too hellish, and I would personally offer to pay for you to have an operation so you could sleep through those inanely boring early-20s. Anyway, believe me, it just keeps getting better and better…

…mind you, Wynders, I did think I was perhaps typing bollocks about a second after I’d pressed send. But look at the life skills that have come with age. Putting videos onto your computer? How on earth do you do that? I could place my videos close to my computer, and hope they osmosed into it, but I couldn’t do better than that. On the physical front, I suppose I do factor in that growing old has to be vaguely accompanied by looking after oneself. The young do have a habit of being beautiful. But I’m convinced that a well-kept 40-year-old is more dishy than he/she was at 30. Convinced. So don’t give up the ghost just yet. (My 66-year-old former mother-in-law does say THE worst thing about being her age is that no-one fancies you EVER. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, shall we?)

Annie, you old last-year-of-‘O’-Levels-person too, you. Well, you COULD give up smoking, of course, rather than throwing in the towel, as I have done, weakly. But 35 is tonnes better than 34. Just you wait and see…

5. leon - July 14, 2006

Ah yes, ageing. I think a lot of people fall foul of something odd that happens to one’s metabolism in the mid-20s, although to be honest it often coincides with a time of life when people are getting desk jobs, cars, a succession of nights in on the sofa, etc, so I suppose general bloating is difficult to avoid.

Luckily for me my car fell to bits (and I’ve refused to get another one unless it’s a Citroen DS, this time) and most of my free time involves pounding the pavements of London, so I’ve managed to stay on the lean side. So far, anyway.

Shallow stuff like appearance aside, though, I think life does generally improve, as long as you don’t allow yourself to fall into any routines – other than the most pleasurable and relaxing ones.

6. BiB - July 14, 2006

…falling in love with Weissbier is also a bad routine to fall into.

Leon, I’ve never been in a DS, much to my chagrin. Or a Trabi, come to think of it. Anyway, I can’t drive. Which at least means I walk here and there too, which is a good tradition.

Still don’t know whether I’m pro-age or anti-age today. I’ll mull it over with some coffee and fags, and perhaps a drop of work.

7. leon - July 14, 2006

I have had an unreasonable affection for the DS ever since I was a very young child. I’ve no real interest in cars but there’s just something about that design that does it for me, plus of course they do that whole thing with the hydraulic suspension which is always fun to watch.

A silver-grey one with yellow headlamps would do nicely, I could really see myself getting out of one of those.

8. BiB - July 14, 2006

Was it perhaps from seeing French films as a child with policemen in great caps leaping out of one that had just screeched to a halt in a beautiful Paris sreet? That might have done the trick as you watched with the sleet thrashing the windows, the sky black at 2pm, on a winter’s day in Bwlch.

9. leon - July 14, 2006

Oh, definitely. They somehow combine the romance of the exotic, of the futuristic, and of the past (being basically a 1950s design) in a single form loaded with meaning. And you can drive them around too! (When they don’t break down in a hideously expensive fashion, anyway.)

10. BiB - July 16, 2006

I know very little about cars indeed, but aren’t DSs always lauded for their utter brilliance? So you might get away with very few breakdowns. Dash out and buy one!

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