Three score and 8/10ths by Trevor Plumbly
78 this month; shit that’s old! Maybe it’s time to quit the intellectual musings and accept that the old ‘get-up-and-go’ has finally gone. I could do the escape route, and scoff a couple of ‘goodbye pills’. I would, of course, croak, but at least senility wouldn’t be an ongoing worry. There is a bill in progress to make that legal, but to pass into law it requires a conscience vote, which in turn requires being counted and some MPs have a problem with that. Others dribble on, to the extent that makes… Read More
Three score and ??? by Trevor Plumbly
I’m staring down the barrel of 78; old age has arrived and I’ve been collecting wisdom to compensate. There’s lots of theories around; for example, someone said (I don’t know who), “The thing about old age is that you can see the good in people more easily.” My research suggests that that’s a load of bollocks! That sort of sanctimonious crap belongs in Christmas cracker mottoes, or to old fogies wanting to clock up a few brownie points before the bloke with the scythe visits. It’s a bloody mysterious caper this age… Read More
Huff and puff by Trevor Plumbly
Grumpy old git part 2 It’s cold and wet in Auckland and I’ve got all reflective about a couple of law changes in the offing. Odd things in life seem to matter at my age; even so, at the risk of contradiction from my fellow bloggers, I regard myself as a pretty normal sort of bloke. It wasn’t always thus, but age tends to water things down a bit. In my formative years you were either the sort of boy your girlfriend invited home to meet mother, or useful as a cudgel… Read More
Fast forward – from puberty to menopause by Emily Smart
The irony of talking about puberty at the ripe old age of 48 has not been lost on me. Thank you Trevor for reminding me that within the next few years, everything that started at puberty will soon be all over. As I wave goodbye to the once fresh eggs produced by my ovaries, I’ll be saying hello to facial hair, varicose veins and possibly too much spittle around my mouth. Looking back, puberty wasn’t a big thing for me. A late developer, I was still happy in my vest at fifteen… Read More
A class act by Trevor Plumbly
In reduced circumstances I only met Aunt Phyllis a few times, but she was one of those characters who continue to tap you on the shoulder throughout life. I was never quite sure of her place in what could euphemistically be described as my ‘family’ circle. I never knew if she was an actual ‘aunt’ or some sort of straggler who became attached before my time. The main consensus (whispered, of course), was that she had ‘a past’. At the time I assumed everybody had one of those and it wasn’t until… Read More
verbalberbal 