Last week I reached 72 years of age. Yeah, I know, those of you who have seen my photo find it hard to believe I’m that old. One of the ladies in the local shop couldn’t believe it when I told her. She was shocked.
“No way!” she exclaimed, adding, “You certainly don’t look it.” Which was very nice of her and I must admit I did feel flattered by her words. And too be honest I don’t feel 72. Not sure how old I do feel but it is younger than 72.
I told her, that for my Birthday present to myself I had bought a Harley Davidson motorbike.
“WHAT? She shouted out in a shocked voice, “A Harley? At your age? Are you having a mid-life crisis?”
“Well,” I said, “If it’s a mid-life crisis that’s fine by me because it would mean I am only 36 years old.”
So yeah, that’s it. That’s how old I feel, 36. I am in my prime of life.
Yeah, so I have bought myself a Harley Davidson. I have always wanted one and I thought if you don’t do it now John Boy you might never do it. Being 72 does mean that I have gained some wisdom. So, on Monday I am going to be starting a back to biking course and hopefully refresh the skills I had when I last rode a motorbike more than twenty years ago. I suspect some people think I am mental. They could be right. I do sometimes wonder that myself. But one of the joys of being 72 is that one doesn’t care what people think.
What I do know is, I am not going to be spending the rest of my days sitting on a bench in the park, wearing a beige coloured coat, and throwing bits of stale bread to the ducks!
No! I am going to be riding my Harley Davidson and admiring my reflection in shop windows as a glide by.
|Maybe I will add a sidecar for Mia the German Shepherd.|