but the thing is people who are going out raving a lot past the age of 25 or obviously bit wrong.
so a scene is impossible probably as that depends on a coterie of regulars.
we just want to go out once every two months and blow off steam
but the thing is people who are going out raving a lot past the age of 25 or obviously bit wrong.
so a scene is impossible probably as that depends on a coterie of regulars.
we just want to go out once every two months and blow off steam
Ray Keith's Beard is almost too perfect.
'But it seems to me that in old age our souls are subject to more troublesome ailments and weaknesses than in youth. I said this when I was young, and they scoffed at me for my beardless chin. I repeat it now that my grey hairs give me authority. We call the queasiness of our tastes and our dislike of present-day things by the name of wisdom. But the truth is that we do not so much give up our vices as change them, and in my opinion for the worse. Besides a foolish and tottering pride, a tedious garrulity, prickly and unsociable moods, superstition, and an absurd preoccupation with money after we have lost the use for it, I find in old age an increase of envy, injustice, and malice. It stamps more wrinkles on our minds than on our faces; and seldom, or very rarely, does one find souls that do not acquire, as they age, a sour and musty smell. Man moves onward as a whole towards his growth and towards his decay.'
Oh don't get me wrong I don't WANT a club scene for old men. How depressing would that be?
We all love music and dancing of course but must we disavow the desire to dance at least within sweating distance of the young and beautiful? (And, as I am saying here, the young mostly ARE beautiful, in their way...)
Coincidentally happen to be reading Montaigne's essay 'ON REPENTANCE' on my lunchbreak:
PDF here http://hs.umt.edu/ghr/documents/152MontaigneRepentance.pdf
and to reiterate
The Coming of Wisdom with Time
THOUGH leaves are many, the root is one;
Through all the lying days of my youth
I swayed my leaves and flowers in the sun;
Now I may wither into the truth.
This is where football is a saviour. Going to a club post-29 and gyrating your ageing carcass near teens is creepy and vile. But donning a Stone Island cap or goggle jacket and doing that "come on then!" extended arms gesture with 29,000 other blokes who've just skulled 10 pints of Stella is OK up 'til, oh I dunno, 68?
After 68 you're at premium age to tell the cops to fuck off at demos though. Or just anyway, why not?
low key skate shoes/hiking trainers is a personality type
I’ll be 49 in a couple of weeks and I’ve just been out for a curry and a concert (including a set by Scanner) with my Dad who is 76.
one very noticeable thing about metroplitan Essex is that there is no generation gap.