Eighty Years Young

Eighty Years Young- Growing older ---  15th November 1932 
 
       It began slowly almost imperceptibly gradually gaining momentum until it was flying along, almost hysterically. In the last few years it has been traveling at break neck speed. Hours became days, days became weeks, weeks became months until today when I awoke like any other with the sun rising in the east. I lay there slowly surfacing, nothing seemed to have changed but everything had. I had reached that magical age of eighty and still going strong. When I look back to my childhood, eighty was uncommon, most people died in their seventies but much change has occurred and here I am sitting comfortably at this computer writing these few reminiscences.
      Is this old age? I guess it is, certainly if I look in a mirror, I see an old face looking back at me but when I think, read or talk, my age seems to dissolve away and I could be any age at any time. Inevitably death enters my thoughts more frequently time goes on  although it has been by my side for as long as I can remember, gently nudging and chiding me. I have seen it visit many people during my lifetime  and have been struck by the calm that its presence brings to the body that remains. The future remains an enigma. We really don't know what it holds and perhaps it is better that way.  Certainly the past gives no indication of what is to come.
    Could anyone have foretold the changes that have occurred during these years, so many innovations, scientific advances, technical improvements?  I am reluctant to use the words advances as each brings with it disadvantages. The motor car an almost miraculous invention has left behind a wake of death and disability. The airplane another unbelievable invention has had its toll of death. Medical advances such as the antibiotics, joint replacement, heart, lung liver transplants are now familiar to all. Perhaps the most remarkable and the one that has most affected our lives is in the field of communications ranging from the old style Radio to Television, computers and mobile telephones. The latter have changed the way we live our lives, no longer needing to plan every action as we can speak to each other in most parts of the world.  Alexander Graham Bell's invention of the telephone in 1870 has blossomed into a facility that is a central part of our lives. So much so that most of us couldn't imagine a world without one.
     So what of the future? Will the wheel be replaced by a hover system?  Will our roads become rails with cars linked together?  Will we be able to fly using a self propelled system? Will surgery become unnecessary as more and more treatment is carried out through the body's existing channels such as the veins, the arteries the mouth etc.  Will we understand the chemistry of the aging process and begin to control it?
So many exciting things to come…..

Immigrants - Out of the blue

Out of the blue

He was tall and thin, and walked with a slight stoop. As soon as he spoke, I saw his teeth were stained and irregular. We had met by chance as we were both walking in the same direction along Edgware Road in London. He had turned to me,

'There are too many of them?' he had muttered as he walked past me. I stopped.

'Who do you mean?' I had asked innocently.

'Them!' He had said pointing to the crowd standing at the bus stop.

'Them!' He had repeated, 'there are too many of them They shouldn't be here, they don't belong. Look at them, there ain't a white face amongst them, and look at 'er over there on the pavement she's a Somali begging, for God's sake.'

'How old are you?" I had asked,

'75 and proud of it,' he had replied pulling back his shoulders. 'I went through the war. I suffered for this country and I was proud to be British. Now any Tom, Dick or Harry is British. British! What a joke. It never used to be like this, the country's going to the dogs. We don't need them at all. They should be made to go back to their own country and leave England to the real English.'

I listened as he went on and wanted to ask him whom he thought the real English were but I refrained. He was angry and disillusioned. His pension was buying less and he was worried about the future. He thought of these people as stealing his life. But the truth was that it was he who had been cushioned all his life although he wouldn't agree. He wouldn't want to think about the millions in the world living in poverty, real poverty, grinding poverty not what passes for poverty in this country.

I wanted to say to him, how lucky he was to have a pension so many people in the world don't, and to live to 75 when the average life expectancy in the world was below 50 but I knew that he wouldn't appreciate my preaching. He was bleeding and he was blaming the immigrants for his pain. But this complaint isn't new. Ever since Britain became a nation with a common belief, people have been coming here initially through invasion and conquest and later to escape persecution or to seek a better life.

I wanted to remind him that it all It began in ernest a long time ago with Julius Caesar in 54 BC and again with Claudius in AD 43. During the 400 years of occupation, Roman soldiers based on the mainland settled, married and became Britons, bringing Latin into the language. It has been estimated that 40% of modern English words are based on Latin. Not long after came the Anglo-saxons from Germany and France and throughout,the centuries, Irish immigration had been a continuing movement varying with the state of their economy.

Nor did he want me to remind him about the invasion from the Vikings in 800 AD followed by armies and settlers bringing their own distinct culture and language ultimately leading to Danelaw which was gradually replaced by the Anglo-Saxons. The Normans under William the Conqueror settled leading to an Anglo-Norman population. So many others followed adding to the richness and variety of the language and culture in particular the Huguenots around 1700. At the same time, the rise of the East India Company with the recruitment of Lascars as crews resulted in many remaining in England and establishing families. The Navigation Act 1660 was passed specifically to limit the employment of Indian crews.

The 18th century saw the impact of African slavery. It is thought that up to 15,000 Africans settled largely as servants in upper class families. The 19th C saw the movement of large number of German to England but anti-German feeling at the beginning of the First World War saw the number decrease. The Jewish migration at the same time had a significant impact on English life. Of the 2 million jews that left Russia as a result of persecution,120,000 settled in the UK. The Alien Act in 1905 and the Alien's Restriction Act of 1914 were passed as a result of strong anti-jewish public opinion.

So what is different about the present emigration? Is it different at all? He clearly sees something different. Undoubtedly the establishment of the Welfare State in 1946 significantly changed the ground rules. Previously each wave of emigrants had to survive on its own wits, each movement succeeded as a result of the hard work and application of the individuals but that all changed when the welfare state came into being. It provided benefits for the unemployed, the disabled and the family, and these benefits were available to all. Now those being admitted to the UK can claim the same benefits as the general population.

The two devastating European wars in the early and middle parts of the 20th Century provided the impetus to establish a European State. In 1957 The Treaty of Rome was signed by six countries. Belgium, France, Italy ,Luxembourg, Netherlands and West Germany, They chose a new currency the Euro and relegated their old currencies to history. In 1973 the EU enlarged to include Denmark, Ireland and the United Kingdom; Greece in 1981; Portugal and Spain in 1986. In 1990 with the fall of the Iron Curtain, the former East Germany joined with West Germany to form Greater Germany. By 2011, there were 28 members. In 2008, with the financial collapse following the USA's Prime Mortgage scandal, the UK has been saddled with an enormous debt which has prompted an austerity programme from the government.

My own story is informative. My grandparents came from eastern Europe at the time of the pogroms. My father was a taxi driver. He had three sons, One became a national service pilot and business man, the second an NHS surgeon and the youngest a solicitor.

So is the stranger correct? Is he right to resent the current influx of foreigners, and is there a limit to the numbers our economy can sustain and if so how do we know when we have reached it? Meanwhile we are facing a demographic explosion with the numbers of people living to over 80 increasing year by year, and at the same time our birth rate is declining. So logically we need new immigrants, young and fit men and women to do the jobs which fuel our economy, pay for the health service and the retirees pensions. These and many other questions remain to be answered before we can ever fully understand the implication of the present influx of foreigners.

Paralympics

The Paralympics

As the second week of the Paralympics comes to an end. it is opportune to analyse the significance of this extraordinary public event. A hundred and forty six countries sent athletes to London to compete in the same magnificent facilities used by the Olympics a month earlier. The overwhelming impression was one of enormous courage, skill and sportsmanship. The method of classifying the disabilities was complicated and inevitably some degree of inequality stepped in, for example, single and double lower limb amputees competed together. It is debatable whether that was a fair match. Similarly in swimming, upper limb and lower limb ablations were treated as similar handicaps. Many more examples can be quoted. Putting that aside, the competitors gave the spectators an insight into the challenges faced by them on a day to day basis. Races competed by blind athletes assisted by guides were particularly humbling.

The games gave to this observer another and arguably very important insight namely a bird's eye view of the incidence and causation of the conditions underlying the disabilities. The physical ones comprised, in no special order, trauma, cerebral palsy, polio, drug induced limb deformed such as Thalidomide, blindness birth or acquired etc. etc.

Of these the following are either treatable or avoidable, much trauma, polio, birth trauma leading to Cerebral Palsy, much blindness etc. Thus although the games reflected the enormous resilience of human beings there is a sadness that many of these conditions hadn't been avoided for example by by better birth care to minimise Cerebral Palsy, Innoculation to prevent Polio, Public health measures to prevent secondary blindness, withdrawal of drugs as in Thalidomide etc. etc.

In an ideal world, none of these conditions would exist and that is a target to which all countries developed and developing should aim.

Tough Love

Tough Love

The old man sat shaking, 

Tears running down his cheeks; 

the boy huddled on his lap  trembling 

From the exhaustion of his recent outburst. 

Their relationship was an unusual one, 

He would  never know his biological father. 

The old man had accepted him as his own 

More a grandfather than a father. 

Now four years old 

He was yet to learn that none of us 

Can always get what we want. 

To watch Disney cartoons on the TV.  

Mesmerized, sit staring for hours 

Responding to what he was seeing. 

The old man and the boy returned from the beach

 A broad expanse of almost white fine sand. 

The boy would happily play in it for hours. 

An onlooker could be persuaded 

That he seemed to be engaged 

In a conversation with an invisible friend. 

Later he wanted to watch cartoons, 

The old man didn't have anything against cartoons, 

Marvelled at the skill evident in their making, 

Almost life like movements that the characters made. 

Andrew's mother didn't want him to watch them. 

The stage was set for an almighty conflict. 

Slowly it began with Andrew's attempts to switch on the TV 

When it became obvious to Andrew 

The old man was not going to weaken, 

The paddy began with screams and shouts, 

The sound rising to a crescendo. 

Andrew threw himself on the floor 

Shaking and kicking but the old man didn't weaken. 

'Why don't you go downstairs and play with the other children,' 

A shouted 'I don't want to.'  

The two were at an impasse, 

The old man seated in a chair 

Andrew crouching on the floor

 Not far away, shouting and screaming. 

It went on for a long time but gradually 

Andrew grew tired and his shouts weakened. 

The old man watched and remembered;

Remembered his own childhood.

The many occasions he went into a fury

Unable to get what he wanted. 

He waited and watched beckoning/ 

Eventually and very reluctantly. 

The boy slowly relaxed on the old man's lap. 

He closed his eyes and the two hugged each other.  

The closeness of the boy and the poignancy of the moment 

Reduced the old man to tears. 

At that moment he was reminded

 Of what he already knew 

That he was unlikely to live long enough 

To see this beautiful gracious boy into manhood.

The sting

The Sting

She was standing with the traffic lights on red waiting to cross; wearing a tight black skirt just above her knees, a red top

with a low cut neck showing the swelling of her breasts and high heels that clattered when she walked. Suddenly her 

mobile rang. She knew immediately who it was. 

‘Well, did you get it?’ A male voice asked.

‘Yes, and with no strings,’ she replied with a smile.

‘How much?

‘One thousand pounds.’

‘Well done! You are really getting good at this. Did you have to make him any promises?

‘What sort of promises?’ She retorted.

‘You know what I mean.’ She could hear him sneer.

‘No! Of course not, you know I wouldn’t.’ She said in a low voice. 

‘OK who are you seeing next?’

‘John! I am meeting him at the Black Horse pub.’

‘Right, do your best, keep me posted,’ and he rang off.

The lights changed and she walked rapidly across the road her heels making a 

click! clack! on the stone pavement. It was getting dark and the street lights were beginning to go on. she shivered and drew her 

scarf more tightly around her neck.   Crossing  the road, she  made her way to the Black Horse Pub about a mile away.          Twenty 

minutes later she opened the heavy swing doors and entered the darkened space with the bar at the far end. She stood allowing 

her eyes to accommodate to the gloom and then spotted him sitting near the window. He had seen her and waved and she 

joined him.      ‘What are you drinking?’ he asked standing up as she sat down. He gave her a peck  on both cheeks. She smiled.                                                                                                

‘Something soft,’ she replied.   He looked at her, her dark brown eyes, her high cheeks and soft kissable mouth. 

He could feel himself falling for her.

How have you been?’ he asked looking deeply into her eyes and taking her hand.

‘Not bad, could be better,’ she replied looking down at her drink.

What’s the trouble? Can I help? He asked leaning forward.

‘Oh, its nothing, I really don’t want to talk about it, it depresses me so much.’

‘Come on, it can’t be that bad?’

‘Oh yes! It can, in fact I am getting rather desperate.’ She said looking down at her drink clasped between her two hands

‘Come on, tell John all.’ He said in a child like voice 

‘OK,’ she said in a low tone.

‘I am in serious debt. I can’t pay the rent and I am in danger of being evicted.’  

She began to cry. (This is harder than I thought it would be she reflected as she patted 

the tears from her eyes.)

John leaned forward and held her,  whispering so that no one else could hear

‘How much do you need?’

‘I couldn’t,’ she hesitated, ‘I couldn’t.'

'I couldn't ask you.' 

‘Rubbish, I want to help you, I am very fond of you and can’t bear seeing you 

suffering.’

‘How much do you need?’ 

‘£1000 she whispered,’ burying her face in her hands.

He leant forward and slowly removed her hands 

‘How would you like the money? Cash?’

She slowly smiled and held his face in hers looking into his eyes.

‘Thank you, thank you, I don’t know how to thank you.’

‘It would only be a loan; I will pay you back as soon as possible.’ She promised.

‘Then it’s done, no strings, When shall we meet again so that I can arrange 

to bring it to you.’

They finished their drinks, arranged to meet at the same place on the following day 

and kissed goodbye.

She left the Pub taking a deep breath and feeling the fresh air on her face.

'I’ve done it! I’ve done it!' She said aloud. It was easier than I thought. I’m good at 

this. He will be very pleased with me, and she allowed herself to enjoy the moment.

She let herself in with her key and called out to him. A voice from the kitchen 

replied, ‘How did you get on?’

‘He’s going to give me the money tomorrow.’ and she went over and attempted to 

kiss him. He turned his face away.

‘You mean you haven’t got the money. Why not? You fool. He may not give it to you 

tomorrow.’

‘He will, he promised you will see.’

‘Shut up you idiot,’ tearing himself away.

And glaring at her he shouted, ‘I knew I couldn’t trust you to get something right,’ 

and with that he hit her, a sudden hard slap across her right cheek.

She stood stunned, unable to speak so surprised at what he had done 

and then she let out a yell,

‘You bastard! You are never satisfied. I have had enough, I’m leaving and I hope I 

never see you again.’

Without waiting for a reply, she grabbed her bag and stormed out of the flat.Once outside in the street, the cold air struck her,  

and she shivered.  She walked swiftly towards the nearby tube station but suddenly stopped. The realisation of what she had done 

hit her. Where can I go?  What am I going to do? She wondered. She suddenly thought of Mark. He would help me, I know he 

will.

‘Hello Mark, it’s me. Can we meet, I need your help’

‘I am busy right now but can meet you this afternoon, same place at 4, is that OK?

‘Yes! Thanks, see you then.’

Wow, she thought, I am sure I can get him to help me . At least I will be OK tonight.

She was waiting in the coffee shop when he arrived. He saw her and came to her 

Table. They kissed on each cheek.

‘What would you like to drink, he asked waving toward the waitress. 

Oh! Just a coffee, please, a white coffee’

Anything to eat? He added

No thanks, just the coffee.

Once the coffee had arrived, he looked at her and asked

‘How can I help? What has happened?’

‘I have been expelled from my home.’ She sobbed, ‘When I got home, the bailiff was 

there and all my possessions were taken and the lock changed. I have nowhere to live. 

Can I come and stay with you?'  She pleaded, trying to keep as serious a voice as possible.   She couldn't tell him that she had been 

kicked out by her boyfriend. He would never understand that.

‘You know I would do anything to help you but staying with me is impossible.’ Sorry!!

And then she realised that he had been deceiving her , he must have another woman.         'You bastard,' she cried, 'just when I 

trusted you.'  As she said the words she was awar of what a hypocrite she had become, playing one man against another.  She 

fought back a feeling of sickness and self revulsion.  What am I going to do she thought as she watched him walk away, not even 

bothering to say goodbye.  Alone deserted and penniless, she felt the sense of utter helplessness.   Outside, the damp cold air 

stung her face and she drew her scarf more tightly around her. For a moment  she didn't know where she was and stood looking 

around for a familiar landmark . She felt like a stranger in an unknown place and then saw the bus stop.  She sat on the narrow seat 

searching her mind, trying to quieten the small voice of despair. Then it was as if she was a small girl again. What did she do when 

she was in trouble, she thought, I find Mum and she always puts it right. Why don't I do that now? Immediately she felt a surge of 

hope, Yes that's what I will do I'll go and see my mum, she will put it right. Finding a telephone, she dialled the number and after 

two or three rings, the familiar voice answered, Hello. At first she was unable to reply, fear gripped her and she seemed to be 

tongue tied. Again, she heard, 'hello,' and then, 'is that you?'  Another pause and she replied , her voice sounding dry and rasping. 

' Yes, Mum its me.' I want to come home,    'Yes, yes,'  and then she heard tears as she put down the receiver. 

.     

Fathers

I forgive you dad

I forgive you Dad for the many ways you failed,

Now that I am a Dad I understand much more

How difficult it is to be what we should be 

To be there when they need us most

Not finding an excuse to be elsewhere.

To listen to what they say and wipe away their tears.

To kiss and cuddle them when they fall 

And not be angry when they fail.

But just be there to commiserate. 

Wouldn't it be great if we could be like that

And not lose our tempers and smack.

Because we remember our own past

When you thought smacking was all dad's did

I forgive you Dad, I love you even so.

So many years have passed and I am a Dad again

I have been given a second chance

Not to make the same mistakes again

Not to allow my ego to get in the way

So that I listen more and say much less

I hope my sons will not need to forgive me 

But just grow with the love I give

I'll tell stories about the Lion king

And meet you after school and read

I will follow your progress to manhood if Im spared

And be there when you receive your degree

And toast your success in champagne

And organise a slap up meal at your favorite restaurant

You can invite your best friends a girl or two if you so desire.

I love you my son I love you

potholes

Potholes

Just few days ago  I was born

A very small pothole was formed 

 A tiny break, you could mistake   

That you didn't know what I was

An insignificant being, compared

To my grand friends down there..

I had big aspirations to be more

I was not  pleased to be ignored

By the way you  rode over me

I felt that  I didn't exist . 

You conveniently forgot  my presence, 

Letting your wheels crush my very essence. 

Desperately I looked around for other friendly holes 

Trying to make their way in the world, like me. 

Oppressed and alone 

I began to make my plans

The rains became my ally 

and slowly I filled up with water 

Expanding my walls . 

And you began to notice me.

  

You started to drive round me 

At last  acknowledging my existence . 

That was not enough for me. 

More rains came and filled me .

My walls began to crumble and  .

I became deeper 

But still you drove round me

Ignoring and ostracizing me.

But I was not daunted. 

One night, it rained all the time

and in the morning 

I had become a sizable hole

Although I was much deeper . 

Happily you could no longer sea that . 

Now I was  a real hole almost a small pond. 

Time and again you drove into me 

Jarring your chassis and throwing up a sheet of spray .

 I was especially happy at night

 when you could not. see me and drove right into me . 

I shouted for joy as you bounced and shuddered

 the big trailers with their large containers 

 Couldnt avoid me and would crash into my sides. 

Cyclist and motor cyclists were thrown off their bikes . 

Tuk tuks would stop in mid stream unable to mount my walls.

Then the rain would evaporate,

 I was exposed in all my glory ,

A magnificent deep wide hole in the road. 

It said , I am here you can no longer ignore me.' 

Sometimes I had moments of grandeur 

when I imagined I was a lake, 

with fish and tadpoles and all manner of watery things. 

But then in a moment of reality 

I would see myself for what I was 

A piece of road that had failed,  

Failed to provide the smooth surface 

That drivers could expect, 

That they had a right to, 

that drivers had paid for. 

And then at another time 

I exalted in my power, 

As masters of the road have to bow down to me and acknowledge me.  

 Now in dark moments

 I wonder how much  longer 

I can command the high ground of the road

Pushing you further into the hedge 

Before someone decided to fill me in.