It was away back in 2005 a letter dropped through the door informing me I was entitled to a £200 Winter heating cheque and asking me to fill in a form. What surprised me more than the money was how the Department knew I was coming up to 60, in August last year.
It was all a 'between a rock and a hard place' situation: I was getting this Winter payment but, at the price of finally accepting I had crossed over the threshold into a state called, 'old age'.
It was a difficult compromise to make for I didn't feel any different when I reached the magic '60' than I did 12 months before, and I haven't felt any older since. I still get up at the crack of dawn and into work before the rush, the Castle Park twice a week, walking instead of short car runs and generally keeping the sunny side up.
Yet, still and all, not a week passes but I get reminded I am from a different generation. I happen to be the oldest in the Enniskillen office and, just recently, the whole lot of us were returning from a coach trip to Stormont.
On the way back, Colm, our footballer, was talking about sporting matters. He was putting up a hypothetical situation to do with reaction time. He went round the group and, as casually as you like, when he came to me, he said: 'You're too old, Michael'. I shook my head in mock horror and everyone laughed. There was no offence intended and none taken.
Therein, I find, is the answer to being reminded of your age. No need for angst, or kicking over the traces. Do as any bullied child in the school playground, see the funny side of things. How many of our most outspoken comedians, for instance, were picked on at school and survived through humour?
Although, some people have a dread of growing old, it must be said.
Jackie Onassis for one, we are told. Remember her after J.F.K., the wife of the filthy-rich shipping magnate, Aristotle who was much, much older.? 'I dread old age creeping up on me during the night', she once famously remarked. For some reason, a lot of people thought she was speaking about her husband.
She's dead now (1994 at the age of 64), but if she were alive today, she would certainly be part of the botox brigade, although until the end of her life, she maintained her natural good looks. The sad part is that women far younger have already embarked on the anti-ageing needle treatment, and then there is the whole array of plastic or, should it not be properly described as, 'cosmetic' surgery, tucks, face lifts and what have you.
Men, I feel, have more of a resistance to the ageing dread. They can look around for examples of contemporaries who are more than holding their own, in the boxing ring or on the golf course and, some times, on the sports field. Although, even those Rip Van Winkles are not immune from sideline sneers.
I remember when I was at college and watching Derry City play. They were going well then, partly due to their having ex-stars from the English League in their first team. One of them was Ernie Taylor who played alongside Stanley Matthews in Blackpool's famous FA Cup win in the early 50's. This was 15 years later and Taylor looked old. He was a small man, with not much hair and spindly legs.
Anyhow, the team they were playing didn't care much about reputation and, Taylor reacted as little men will do to one particular tackle. 'Hit him with your pension book', one wag shouted, and the stand erupted. It all reminded me of the boxing adage, 'they never come back'.
For people like that who live in Tir na nOg, William Butler Yeats' lines from one of his plays make a fitting epitaph"
'The years like great black oxen tread the earth
And God, the herdsman, goads them on behind
And I am broken by their passing feet'.
So, I'll just keep going and I urge people of my age and beyond to do the same. The saying, 'You're as old as you feel' is as old as the hills, but there is a lot to it. The corollary of it, of course, is 'act your age'. The young will relate to older people, but let them pick their own steps. There is much to admire within old heads, well most of the time. Remember the Bible parable about not storing fresh wine in new bags.
Oh, I nearly forgot. This man went to Confession and the priest, who recognised him through the grille, said to him rightaway, 'It's you, John. How are you anyway? The man, who was feeling down, replied: 'Sure I'm not feeling myself at all, Father'. Good man, says the priest. That was a bad habit you had there'.
Bye
