My Old Age

I'm called "grandpa" by the teachers when I pick up my kids from school. Because my hair is prematurely white. In a way its a joke, but I am over 40 years older than my kids. I was a late starter, but I do have a young wife, who looks even younger because she's  from the East, Shanghai to be exact. In the East they respect Old Age, so I'm all in favour of that. But as for having a good old age, I think I'll be dead, I won't last that long. I'll have to work to at least 66, and maybe 67. So I'll be worn out by the time it comes to retire. My dad was a blacksmith and then spent 40years in a steel works, The District Iron and Steel in Brasshouse Lane Smethwick. Has a ring to it don't you agree? He retired a year or two early when the works was closed down. He had ten golden years with my mum, then mum died, then he had 5 years in an old people's home, read Padre Pio and Me   www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com But he at least had those golden ten years.

My brother was made redundant and now at 60 he's retired. He can look forward to 20+years of relaxation and learning. Me I've got 14 years more to do, if there's any jobs left. If I could win that lottery, then I'd retire today and write more books. Or if I could get something produced/published then I'd be able to retire. The chances of that happening, probably zero, but strange things have happened, read Literary Criticism on my site. Perhaps the government should start a National Laughter Campaign to cheer us all up, Ken Dodd should be ringmaster. The thought of years of slavery is saddening, perhaps we could start a National Singing Campaign, a kind of whistle while you work, Arthur Askey  reincarnated to pass all those extra working years away. We could sing the Song of The Hewbrew Slaves, for that's what'll happen, retire at 95 IF we're still alive, in the year of 2010 If we're still alive