I have often observed to friends and family of similar age, when it seems apropos, that I always wondered how come I never heard Grandpa or Dad moan about aches and pains. I mean, not in public but in private when it seemed the right setting.


My foreman Eric, during my apprenticeship as a printer, a man I admired who rode his 650 BSA from home in Tottenham some 30 miles to Hoddesdon where he worked, was obviously in agony during winter months and would hold his gauntleted hands over the lead foundry pot, to thaw out his bones.


Let this be a warning to you my lad, keep riding and it'll happen to you! He would grimace as I rolled him a fag and made his tea for him. What a man, he set me such a good example, we both knew the print wasn't for me and I wish he could have seen me become a teacher.


Even Eric didnt seem to take any painkiller meds
not even aspirin.


In those days - the 60's - you could get full strength codeine OTC, which I preferred to aspirin which hurts my tummy. I never felt any desire to take codeine for any other reason than pain and frankly find it hard to believe that it can be addictive.

Mind you theres so much more to aging than mere aches and pains. Another heavy blow that nobody warns you can happen is that when a long friendship is abruptly severed by death or divorce, you lose a lot of memory links of the sort that you remember fondly but need that person to cue them up for retelling or remembrance.


Another bummer is the remorse I occasionally feel
thinking how I might have prevented that death or divorce had I been more aware of how my careless behaviour might give the wrong impression leading them to copy my vices or imagine that I don't care for them.


I cringe every time I recall how often I used homophobic slurs quite unwittingly and in good humour because it took me years to discover my oldest boy is gay and I doubt that damage can ever be undone. He'll never really trust me the way his brother did and thats another 'failure' of mine that haunts me since his premature death.


I drank alcohol quite freely and openly having the good fortune to possess a hard head and hollow legs which I inherited from Dad so I pretty much did the same like driving under the influence which never caused me to have an accident. Only cars mind, never ride a bike drunk unless you want to die.

Oh I guess I could continue ad nauseum but suffice it to say that I think Sarge hit the nail on the head with that observation