I've been using the term 'feeling my age' far more frequently than is good for me recently. Perhaps being a grandfather emphasises that my fondly remembered youth has long gone although things aren't helped when my daughters buy me Christmas gifts such as socks emblazoned with the words 'Drunken Old Fart' and 'Grumpy Old Git'. Whatever can they mean?
I was talking with my esteemed office colleague the other day (Claire, that's you...) about the joys of listening to music on vinyl. The pleasure of buying an album from the record shop with its cover a work of art, the excitement of getting home, carefully removing the record and putting it on the record player, the anticipation as the stylus (that's the needle, Adullamite) scratched its way on to the vinyl and the music began... It occurred to me that perhaps Claire hadn't experienced such pleasure and she confirmed as much when she advised her Dad had told her about records...
Now I'm being somewhat cautious when I admit this but when I was fourteen years of age, one of the many albums I bought was, erm, Rod Stewart's Greatest Hits. Yes, I know, I was young, it was 1976 the year of the scorching summer and my young brain may have been affected by the heat. Of course I should have bought The Faces album instead as Stewart's early stuff - which was quite good - was performed with the band, such as You Wear it Well and Maggie May.
My feeling of ageing wasn't helped when I read that Rod Stewart turned 65 years old yesterday. Officially, he's now an old age pensioner. I wonder if Rod, like me, gets Grumpy Old Git goods as a token of affection from loved ones? Probably not. Then again, he wears it well...
