tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1903133504908789322012-02-07T17:21:32.209ZElvis never lived to be 43. I did.olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.comBlogger1311100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-56139590604643263252012-02-07T13:31:00.000Z2012-02-07T17:21:32.221Z

Rudyard Kipling's illustration for The Cat That Walked By Himself Last year, I went to my first tweet-up. I wasn't impressed. It consisted mainly of people sitting around a table looking at their phones. Twitter is a brilliant hiding place for shy people. In cyberspace, no-one can hear you stammer. As a child, I was what is called 'painfully shy'. (That makes it sound like an affliction.

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-30859800623313415402012-01-24T13:51:00.003Z2012-01-24T13:51:49.555Z

It's my birthday today. Apart from the cake, I'm not particularly happy about this. (Cue compulsory 'at least I'm still here', blah blah, disclaimer.)Lots of people today have wished me happy birthday. People younger than me. It's kind of them, but as far as I'm concerned it's just another sunless January day; another day in the office.  Nothing happy about it.And I keep thinking about the number

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-53119723203303225972012-01-10T20:34:00.000Z2012-01-10T20:38:21.571Z

Sometimes I think I should stop reading the Guardian. Brand loyalty is all very well, and I'm normally happy to define myself as a Guardianista - with all that implies. (I own a bicycle, but rarely use it. I hate supermarkets, but shop at Tesco. I worry about climate change, and drive a car.) But sometimes I do get annoyed. They ran a rather sweet article in Saturday's magazine called

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-38801218042964470192012-01-01T15:58:00.005Z2012-01-01T15:58:52.604Z

I have no aims for 2012. I'm tired of telling myself I 'should' be doing or being something I'm not. Life's too short. This year I won't eat my five-a-day, take more exercise, drink less beer, get more sleep. I won't spend less time on the internet, read more books, blog every week, remember to mow the lawn. I won't lose a stone, measure my carbon footprint, cut my carbs, use less packaging

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-58227635430588852182011-12-31T15:37:00.001Z2011-12-31T15:37:34.439Z

There are Christmas cards all over my book cases. I like to spot trends so, now that I know there aren't going to be any more cards, I've started looking for themes. This year, in order of popularity, they are: 1. Snow scenes. 2. Birds and animals. 3. Nativity scenes and/or carols. 4. Random Christmas decorations. There's a lot of crossover, of course. Snow scenes with animals. Snow scenes

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-58014354421863149452011-12-18T21:01:00.003Z2011-12-18T21:03:02.040Z

One of the best things about this time of year is that you actually get real post. I know it's more eco-friendly to send e-cards, but there's something special about envelopes coming through the letterbox with the handwriting of friends and family. I even like the 'round robin' letters that come with them. It's easy to sneer (thanks Simon Hoggart and his numerous crowd-sourcing readers), but

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-65109686735360239562011-12-04T10:57:00.001Z2011-12-04T10:59:09.637Z

I haven't walked out of many gigs. But Tin Machine was one of them. And if you start talking about David Bowie and artistic integrity I'm likely to remind you of this. Apparently there was a rather lazy piece of journalism in the Observer recently where someone ran with a press release about a 'jukebox musical' based on Bowie's songs. The story's now been discredited, but Tom Ewing wrote an

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-267062184022603352011-11-05T16:09:00.001Z2011-11-05T16:09:31.918Z

Last week, I noticed my local pub was advertising 'Halloween weekend'. Basically, three days of 'celebrating'. When I was young, Halloween was just one hour in the evening and a bowl of apples. That's until the Christians decided Halloween was a Bad Thing and then it became nothing. But nothing is, in fact, what Halloween means for most of us. Not something we celebrate. Not really part of

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-1120796697245929152011-10-25T18:34:00.000+01:002011-10-25T18:36:24.487+01:00

I've been saying for as long as I can remember - well at least during this century - how much I hate the 1980s. But I know a lot of people think that the '80s were great, so I'm wondering whether I should rethink. I'm wondering, in particular, whether this is perhaps an 'it's not you, it's me' moment. Last week, Sounds of the 20th Century got up to 1979. And I didn't enjoy it as much as

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-68835376601416021182011-10-16T17:33:00.002+01:002011-10-16T17:47:52.434+01:00

One of the things I'm learning in the 21st century is that radio is often better than television, and the internet is often better than both. Meanwhile, back in the 20th century, it's 1979. Or it will be on Thursday, when a radio series called Sounds of the 20th Century gets to episode 29. They started in 1951 and they're going on til the end of the century: one year, one hour, a mixture of pop

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-23669237576389586812011-10-05T22:07:00.003+01:002011-10-09T18:38:34.299+01:00

Sometimes you actually find something useful on Facebook. One of my friends 'shared' a photo that's been 'shared' about 3,000 times and I couldn't resist doing the same. It's what they call viral marketing, but as far as I can see it's on a real person's Facebook page and it isn't advertising anything. The photo is just some text and says this: 'I may be old, but I got to see all the cool bands.

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-42404129296538989282011-08-30T20:44:00.001+01:002011-08-30T20:47:32.079+01:00

Down the road from my house there's a billboard advertising sheltered housing. 'Independent Living For The Over 55s' it says, alongside a photo of a smiling, middle-class 55-year-old woman and an almost identical smiling, middle-class 85-year-old woman. It's not clear which one of them is plotting to put the other one away. There's a new charity called Age UK, which used to be Age Concern and

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-57737538444777109192011-08-20T16:00:00.003+01:002011-10-09T19:01:46.250+01:00

It's official. The golden generation previously known as 'digital natives' no longer exists. Researchers at the Open University have decided that there is no generational difference between how people use the internet. It's more about learning styles or something. (I think this is just an academic take on 'you're as old as you feel'.) Thank goodness for that. I was getting tired of hearing

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-67975536078227316732011-08-03T19:38:00.003+01:002011-10-09T17:37:19.359+01:00

When Tuesday feels like Friday, and Sunday night feels like it did when you were at school, you know you are in the wrong job. I'd love to stop what I'm doing and go and do something else but I'm very afraid that I will be stuck in the same job for ever. It's a bit like being in an abusive relationship. You keep reminding yourself of all the good reasons for staying, and you almost believe it.

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-66728319733836724532011-07-26T20:17:00.000+01:002011-07-26T20:17:58.925+01:00

Nobody deserves to die young. Not the children in East Africa. Not the young Norwegians who died last week. And not Amy Winehouse. No-one these days talks in terms of the 'deserving' and 'undeserving poor'. So why is it OK to divide the dead into those who did and didn't deserve it? As John Donne wrote in No Man is an Island: "Any man`s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind."

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-31643215720028799262011-07-16T15:16:00.003+01:002011-10-09T18:23:35.804+01:00

The other night I was wasting time on Twitter as usual and stumbled upon a hashtag game #iamoldenoughtoremember. I couldn't resist joining in. Contributions could be categorised as follows: Nostalgia: #iamoldenoughtoremember hovering your finger over the pause button when taping the top40 on a C90. ...there were 240 pennies in a pound. ...gramophones, 78s, 45s, LPs and EPs. And cassette

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-48427152335203998502011-07-04T21:42:00.001+01:002011-10-09T18:24:06.040+01:00

We were on holiday last week on the Isle of Purbeck, doing middle-aged middle-class sort of things like camping and going for country walks. And drinking lots of cider. And spending the day on the heritage railway, enjoying the retro details and mocking the trainspotters. It's funny how different people see things differently though. We get onto the steam train and manage to get a

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-27359460991808760152011-06-21T23:08:00.001+01:002011-06-21T23:09:50.764+01:00

I love Kate Atkinson's books, partly because she's a good writer and partly because I can't help wondering about the lost sisters. They are the thread in Case Histories but the theme goes back to Behind the Scenes at the Museum, her first novel. And because I also have a lost sister, I wonder. And I loved the BBC's 'Case Histories' adaptation, even though it falls into the common category of '

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-35802542587129429952011-06-19T20:07:00.003+01:002011-10-09T18:01:07.120+01:00

In my gmail bin I have an email inviting me to 'adopt a veg' for Father's Day, an email offering CAMRA Father's Day gift membership, and a third offering 25% off fairtrade ties for... you guessed it. Spammers don't care what percentage of recipients actually buy their stuff. These totally legitimate organisations, whose messages I am usually happy to receive, don't seem to care what percentage

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-39444274436945456682011-05-24T22:15:00.003+01:002011-10-09T18:52:21.934+01:00

Whenever I go on Facebook the 'top news' at any given time is a whole load of YouTube videos. I wonder if it's my demographic or just the sort of people I know. It might be interesting to see a typical timeline for people of different ages. Babies? Politics? Misspelled incomprehensible stuff? Sometimes I think that it's all a bit like writing the name of bands on your satchel. We all know we

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-77601611060375980612011-05-08T11:47:00.000+01:002011-05-08T11:47:57.854+01:00

I don't watch a lot of television but when I do I like to watch it in company. Which generally means Twitter. A few weeks ago, BBC4 decided to resurrect Top of the Pops and kicked it off with a themed evening that included a documentary about 1976. It was this in particular that polarised commentators. Generation gap? I expect so. As we watched the awfulness that was Sailor and Brotherhood of

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-30621251119940848622011-05-02T16:57:00.000+01:002011-05-02T16:57:32.131+01:00

It was great on Friday to have an extra day off work. I could have spent it in front of the telly watching a celebrity wedding. Or in front of Twitter watching people bitch about the celebrity wedding (I was tempted). Instead I took the chance to catch up on some of the things I don't usually have the time and energy to do. And I thought a bit about my working life. Everyone knows about the

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-90465422285532913072011-04-07T18:57:00.000+01:002011-04-07T18:57:00.380+01:00

I've been having arguments about the census with Husband. He's not happy because the information is being collected by an American arm of the military-industrial complex. I'm not bothered because there's nothing there I wouldn't put on Twitter. But I did find some of the questions difficult. And that's apart from the enigmatic Question 17. (It turns out the reason it's blank is actually quite

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-55161971041729319302011-04-02T22:45:00.001+01:002011-10-09T18:53:27.332+01:00

Middle-aged people went a bit mad last night as BBC4 chose a Top of the Pops theme for their regular Friday music night. I followed the Twitter stream for #totp and it was trending all night. The first hour and a half was a clip show from 1964 to 1975 (with colour coming in for Lola by the Kinks). Husband periodically walked into the room, looked at the TV, said 'he's dead' and walked out again.

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-39743970424878160642011-03-08T20:43:00.001Z2011-03-08T20:45:15.311Z

I'm actually more excited about it being Pancake Day than International Women's Day. As someone said on Twitter, social media seems to have reduced International Women's Day to the level of National Chip Week. And I never like the idea of being told when to think about any particular issue - whether it's Comic Relief or Valentine's Day or Climate Week. Or Women's Day. I'd prefer to choose

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-78858354268966430032011-02-23T15:31:00.004Z2011-10-09T17:27:35.148+01:00

Why I like working with geeks: 1. There is always someone to talk to on Twitter. 2. They make you realise that Microserfs was not fiction. 3. They never say things like: ‘We can get on with our project because management are more interested in other things.’ They do say: ‘The eye of Sauron is turned elsewhere.’

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-41014215281465855552011-02-22T22:05:00.002Z2011-10-09T17:28:11.829+01:00

Most of the time I feel about 46. Sometimes I feel 16. And that's not a good thing. I decided recently, and deliberately, that I felt 46. I thought I ought to choose something - because I don't feel my real age, which has a 5 in front of it - so I chose something realistic. I think I can actually get away with this one, for a while at least. I know I look younger than most women my age. I know

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-77517373800622222832011-02-07T19:05:00.005Z2011-10-09T17:31:37.868+01:00

It was Save Our Libraries Day on Saturday so I dutifully went down to mine to try to save it. No-one seemed to notice. The librarians were more interested in showing me how to use the DIY checkout than thanking me for my solidarity. There were not people queuing to take out their books. The shelves were not bare. I knew there would not be any well-known authors doing sit-ins, because my library

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-48247489559570222722011-02-02T20:43:00.002Z2012-01-09T22:38:01.581Z

I remember the first time I heard a friend describe herself as 'a middle-aged woman'. I was shocked. She's a year younger than me. A few years later, at the age of 50-something and officially menopausal, I can't deny it any more. So I could not resist buying a book called The Stranger in the Mirror: A Memoir of Middle Age. There are a lot of middle-aged women around and I think this is the

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-75277906275117375692011-01-03T15:12:00.002Z2011-10-09T17:30:51.376+01:00

Many years ago when I worked in newspapers you always had to write some 'highlights of the year' to fill the column inches when everyone was on holiday. I didn't think I'd still be doing it years later, without getting paid, but some things are too good not to share. My media highlights of the year were all on Twitter. Bad things about Twitter: armchair TV critics (although I love the concept

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-73076777372925328812011-01-02T17:17:00.002Z2011-10-09T18:11:05.209+01:00

I didn't watch 'Grumpy Old New Year' on Friday night. I get grumpy about talking-heads programmes. I get grumpy about repeats. I get grumpy when there is nothing decent on TV on New Year's Eve. Presumably the programmers think it doesn't matter because 'everyone' is out partying. But that's just pretend-life; some kind of myth. In real life most people stay in. And find out there's nothing on

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-15438778162726074962010-12-23T16:35:00.002Z2010-12-23T16:53:41.850Z

I never remember the date that Joe Strummer died. I have friends on Facebook who do that for me (it's a boy thing). Apparently, it was yesterday. Eight years ago. My Facebook homepage is full of Clash videos. And I know that for my generation, this was the day the music died. Watch this and remember why.

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-76423399110252825342010-10-26T19:56:00.001+01:002011-10-09T17:32:01.513+01:00

I’ve just watched the last two episodes of Mad Men and I’m starting to think the unthinkable. It feels almost sacrilegious but I got more from that 90 minutes of TV drama than I would have done from reading a book. I’ve always thought of myself as a book person. I’ve got two English degrees and have never forgiven my parents for not buying me a membership of the Puffin Club. But I can’t remember

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-15838731816707990932010-10-24T13:20:00.002+01:002010-10-24T13:31:10.534+01:00

RIP Ari Up. The Slits were more punk than anyone. They couldn’t play (to start with) and they didn’t give a damn. They did things their way. And they were more genuinely revolutionary than any of the boys.There were plenty of role models among what was quaintly called in the 70s ‘women in rock’. But in one way or another most of them were still playing by the rules laid down by the men - about

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-87876448698633555532010-07-08T13:52:00.004+01:002011-10-09T17:32:29.719+01:00

Dear Facebook Please stop trying to be clever and start thinking about real people’s real feelings. You have the biggest customer base in the world and you have no concept of customer service. You don’t even have any way of contacting a customer service person. I don’t want to ‘engage’ with you. I don’t want to follow you on Twitter or ‘like’ your page (I DON’T ‘like’ you) or ‘share’ a user

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-11642574399548762662010-06-27T15:08:00.002+01:002010-06-27T15:13:17.470+01:00

George Osborne ruined my holiday... and that’s just for starters. Cornwall is exactly 200 miles away from my house and I’m a long way from the border. I’ve left my worries behind. I haven’t written a things-to-do list for days. I’ve even forgotten what my own kitchen looks like: it’s been overwritten by the one in our rented accommodation. Then Husband puts on the telly. It’s a day after ‘

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-41937725309502985732010-05-25T21:43:00.002+01:002011-10-09T18:54:50.913+01:00

The Ramones are a brand. And I don’t care. Despite my green anti-materialist credentials I have a secret vice. I like looking at pictures of shoes. I don’t buy them very often (protestant guilt, lack of money, lack of decent shoe shops in this one-horse town, feet that don’t fit). But I like to look. So I am on the mailing list for Schuh. And so I saw today a picture of something called a

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-44494010291272734472010-04-29T13:58:00.001+01:002011-10-17T19:31:31.808+01:00

I always hated the term ‘new wave’ (punk for people who don’t like punk). And I always hated those ‘women in rock’ articles you used to get. And still do. But I quite enjoyed a recent Radio 4 show called Women of the New Wave. Pauline Black interviewed some of the key women from the punk and post-punk years in Britain about culture, identity and the choices they made about how to present

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-75277458719289268442010-04-09T22:33:00.002+01:002010-04-09T22:38:27.495+01:00

Thirty-odd years ago, when I was a teenager, I thought Malcolm McLaren was old. Things look different when time passes. Today, I think he was young. Too young, anyway, to be dead. I’d be lying, though, if I said I was mourning. I’m just thinking... Was he a visionary or a charlatan? Or something else? Pop culture needs its posers and its pranksters and McLaren was certainly one of those. But

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-90055299657383299662010-04-02T18:21:00.003+01:002011-10-09T17:33:14.737+01:00

I don’t often listen to Desert Island Discs but I made a point of doing so last week. I wanted to hear Frank Cottrell-Boyce and find out more about the man who wrote the radio series One Chord Wonders. He came across as a gentle and generous soul: the sort of person who gives Christianity a good name. He also described Oliver Postgate as a kind of proto punk (it’s the DIY ethic). I liked that.

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-51467000577344323102010-03-30T22:23:00.001+01:002011-10-09T17:33:37.786+01:00

A recent Guardian article asked ‘are pop tribes a thing of the past?’ Funny, I was just thinking the same thing myself. When Husband complains there’s no good music any more I tell him it’s got to be there. It’s just that we don’t know about it, because it’s not meant for us any more. On that basis, maybe I’m wrong about the lack of pop tribes. It might just be my age, but young people look

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-73328194394688641042010-03-23T17:33:00.003Z2010-03-23T17:35:37.572Z

I’ve been watching the BBC series Women with mixed feelings. Partly frustration because I want viewers who don’t know about feminism to understand and there isn’t enough context to do that. And partly anger at how little has changed. Husband doesn’t want to watch the programme. Because he thinks he knows it already? Or because he thinks it is class war that really matters? Probably a bit of both

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-20122818580677306212010-03-20T13:46:00.002Z2010-03-20T13:46:41.779Z

After years of me trying to get him to stop looking like Clarkson, Husband has suddenly become fashionable. According to those who know, ‘double denim’ is now the in thing. Husband was bemused when I told him he was on trend. I don’t think he actually knows what ‘on trend’ means.

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-30435613691604906432010-03-08T14:09:00.001Z2010-03-08T14:10:07.638Z

I like a good gossip about Mad Men. (Is Roger still in love with Joan? Is Don losing his grip on cool?) But it’s interesting to discover how different people have different perspectives on the same thing. One of my colleagues (age: under 30) confessed she was surprised to see the extent to which a woman’s status, in that particular time and place, was tied to her husband’s job. Young British

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-84747187576584083112010-03-07T09:44:00.003Z2011-10-09T17:50:15.750+01:00

Today, I am a happy person. I am officially NOT a baby boomer. Apparently, the Americans have invented something called Generation Jones that sits between the boomers and Generation X: exactly where I am. We’ve even got our own website. According to Jonathan Pontell, the man who started it: 'Jonesers have long been lumped with Boomers simply because we arrived during the same long post-World

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-33830603993287121862010-03-06T15:46:00.001Z2011-08-20T16:03:57.255+01:00

Newsnight ran a slightly pointless ‘generation gap’ feature this week blaming baby boomers for the current woes of young people. Don’t blame me. I voted for Michael Foot. I believed there was such a thing as society. I worried about my carbon footprint before it got fashionable. But what I find really offensive is the suggestion that because of when I was born I had a charmed ‘never had it so

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-2568851817681913212010-01-26T21:47:00.003Z2011-10-09T18:11:34.131+01:00

Finally someone has written a song called ‘Life’s too short’, my own personal Older Than Elvis motto. Actually they wrote it a long time ago. The record by the Lafayettes was apparently released in this country in 1962, when I was (I promise) a very small child. I finally discovered it last week courtesy of Brian Eno. Someone at BBC4 decided that last Friday was going to be Brian Eno night.

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-15556933018165599202010-01-13T16:33:00.006Z2011-10-09T17:36:36.653+01:00

Maybe it’s a bit late for a new year resolution, but this year has been slow getting started. Something to do with the snow, I expect. So here’s mine: this year I will listen to more music. There was a time when I would put on a record as soon as I got up; put on another as soon as I got home; spend all evening with the radio on. I don’t remember how it stopped. I think it was something to do

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-1824888854534014302009-12-24T12:08:00.003Z2011-10-09T17:39:10.923+01:00

I’m sure it’s true that Christmas shopping expands to fill the time available. I’m the sort of person who’s more inclined to celebrate Buy Nothing Christmas than the sales but I still find myself drawn to what passes for a high street in the small town where I live. (Just one more bag of satsumas and my Christmas will be perfect...) I’ve even found myself going round the shops in the small city

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-35534371518833951542009-10-27T21:16:00.000Z2009-10-27T21:18:13.274Z

The internet is 40, apparently. I have to say I was surprised. But looking back at the mid-90s, when I first became aware of it, even that feels like a long time ago.I remember when we still called it the information superhighway. (These days, there are times I feel like I’m in the bus lane. Thanks, Virgin Media.)I remember working in an office when we were so excited at our ‘You’ve got mail’

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-86884604268982291192009-10-25T13:45:00.002Z2011-10-09T17:40:06.244+01:00

It’s always tempting when you get to middle age to say that things were better in the old days. But in the case of the BBC, it’s got to be true. If Robin Day had been chairing Question Time, the BBC would never have shot themselves in the foot the way they did on Thursday. But now, thanks to a publicity stunt that misfired, the nastiest politician in the country has won the sympathy vote. Yes,

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-63707167715466732212009-10-15T13:28:00.000+01:002009-10-15T13:29:19.851+01:00

It’s Blog Action Day*, and thousands of people around the world are blogging about climate change.Is it being green the new rock’n’roll? I’d like to think so, but I suspect it’s not. Not yet anyway.It ought to be cool that Caroline Lucas (older than Elvis) is the first female leader of a political party in this country to talk sense. It ought to be cool that Franny Armstrong gave up being a **

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-24337955255019410652009-10-08T21:42:00.004+01:002011-10-09T17:40:42.479+01:00

Today is National Poetry Day. Some of us brought poems to work. I loved this one, translated from the Japanese: I have always known That at last I would Take this road, but yesterday I did not know that it would be today. NARIHIRA

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-14873959762246991022009-10-06T08:59:00.001+01:002009-10-06T08:59:50.565+01:00

The best bit was when they gave the family a power cut. The first episode of Electric Dreams on BBC4 put a modern family into the 1970s. They start in 1970, then move on one year per day and get the gadgets to go with it.It felt almost authentic. I don’t remember anyone having such extreme interior decoration, and we couldn’t afford a Teasmade or video games. But the arrival of the stereo (joy)

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-78293741160123843842009-10-03T17:39:00.001+01:002011-10-09T17:41:55.331+01:00

Being a frugal type, I like freebies so I was happy this morning to find the council giving away free recipe books. It's all about their campaign to get us to stop throwing away food. Sadly, it turned out to be one of those things where the bureaucrats talk to us as if we were children. Or stupid. Well, maybe we are stupid. Apparently, ‘we’ throw away 700,000 unopened packets of sweets and

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-27404161114945421702009-09-16T08:48:00.002+01:002011-10-09T17:42:55.522+01:00

Quiet night in front of the TV with Husband. A rare occurrence. It’s time for Later with Jools Holland. The perfect therapy for grumpy middle-aged people. Ordinary people with annoying daily lives – that’s most of us, then – need an outlet for some of that frustration; someone to hate. Some people go to football matches. We do heckling the telly. Husband doesn’t like football, which is one of

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-17889279466427096122009-08-23T14:23:00.001+01:002009-08-23T14:24:50.128+01:00

I’ve had an invitation from Saga to take out insurance. Just to make the invitation more enticing, they offer a ‘free mini Sudoku game’ when you phone for a quote.Is this their idea of how the over 50s spend their leisure time?As far as I’m concerned, this definitely falls into the category of ‘life’s too short’.

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-50891710619413211332009-08-20T13:48:00.003+01:002011-10-09T17:43:30.966+01:00

Or should that be 'smoke and mirrors'? Which magazine has found out that ‘anti-ageing’ eye creams don’t work. Surprise. At no cost to you, the reader, here are the top three ways not to get wrinkles: 1. don’t smoke 2. don’t sunbathe 3. be a bit overweight. What does ‘look visibly younger’ mean anyway?

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-10036664153448778042009-08-17T14:35:00.005+01:002011-10-09T18:24:55.620+01:00

I sat down happily last night to watch 100 Years of Girl Guides on BBC4. Then I realised that I actually remember - and celebrated - the Guides' 'diamond jubilee'. That means the 60th anniversary. That means it was 40 years ago. And that means I must be really old. They never taught us to Be Prepared for that.

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-76572155758827255642009-08-03T22:19:00.002+01:002011-10-09T17:45:16.729+01:00

In the year or so since I’ve been writing this blog, a few things have happened. I’ve turned 50*. I’ve kept it quiet. And I’ve started to get used to the idea. Being in your fifties is definitely something that takes getting used to. But when you do, it’s not that bad. There are times when it feels like freedom. The past decade has been interesting experience. There’s a lot of difference

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-69422786287191216742009-07-20T22:29:00.004+01:002011-10-09T17:51:17.068+01:00

I might have given the wrong impression in a recent post if I suggested that I never go to weddings any more. I’ve been to two this year. And one of them was my own. I’ve been a bit embarrassed telling anyone about it, after ten years with Partner (who, I suppose, I must now call Husband). It got out eventually and people sent flowers and said nice things and it was all rather gratifying in the

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-79285028532160628332009-07-19T14:40:00.005+01:002011-10-09T18:56:47.191+01:00

I remember being quite upset on my 20th birthday when I couldn’t wear my ‘Bored Teenager’ badge any more. Instead, I made myself another home-made badge out of a newspaper headline from the NME. It said ‘Too old to pose’ (yes, I do remember the news item it came from but that would be one trivia step too far). This came back to me the other day while talking to someone at work about feeling old.

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-20894233927518130702009-07-14T13:01:00.006+01:002009-08-23T14:25:10.200+01:00

“Boden, it seems, will not rest until I have given in and bought into their lifestyle” says Clare at It’s not just me… is it?I know the feeling. After years of being on their mailing list I recently bought my first Boden garment. It wasn’t quite like buying my first pair of Doc Martens at the age of 40. In fact I felt like a class traitor. But I couldn’t resist the retro rose print. And I am now

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-30905145686643493792009-07-08T14:16:00.002+01:002011-10-09T17:52:33.422+01:00

I’m chatting with a bunch of 20-somethings at work and they’re talking about how the wedding invitations are all starting… Which made me start thinking about life stages. For me, it’s 50th birthday party invitations. Two parties in the past month, both great fun and both with a lot more personality than the off-the-peg rites of passage that the youngsters have to put up with. The latest was a

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-52052403379162314892009-06-12T14:25:00.002+01:002011-10-09T17:52:54.639+01:00

Good things about being over 50. 1. Cheap insurance. 2. Er, that's it.

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-30812305417584862732009-05-29T22:22:00.002+01:002011-10-09T17:59:06.089+01:00

The Guardian has profiled two people about being ‘older women’ in the workplace. Is this an issue? It’s what you make of it. There have been times, working among twenty- and thirty-somethings, when I’ve felt invisible. There have been other times when I’ve felt accepted. But that works both ways. The generation gap is always going to seem wider if you’re looking downwards from a great height.

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-58989137827310029852009-05-11T20:53:00.004+01:002011-10-09T17:54:38.773+01:00

My friend has just turned 50. I bought her a great card. It has a badge on that says 'SAGA lout'.

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-56538769221943237192009-04-18T19:11:00.004+01:002011-10-09T18:25:37.987+01:00

More proof that the 1970s was definitely another world. I came across an old school magazine while helping my mother clear out her loft. On the last page, after the lists of prefects and embarassing ‘creative writing’, was the title ‘News of Old Girls’. And what was the news? A list of girls who had graduated from university? A list of interesting and fulfilling jobs that they had taken up? No, a

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-73597010939800717692009-04-10T17:18:00.009+01:002011-10-09T18:48:30.545+01:00

One of my Facebook friends recently commented "I refuse to be in the core demographic for ‘The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency’"... Personally, I refuse to be in the core demographic for anything. It’s easy to get sucked into watching what I call SAGA telly: anything with nice scenery and people in anoraks and vintage cars. Yes, I like the British landscape and I own walking boots and a bicycle.

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-59727861646114111122009-03-27T12:38:00.004Z2009-03-27T13:41:45.219Z

Finally someone has acknowledged what I always knew. I am part of the lost generation.‘As in the 1980s recession, another generation is at risk of being washed up, never being connected to working life,’ writes Polly Toynbee in the Guardian, showing rather more sympathy to Generation Y than I can find myself. They’ve had it too good too long: we never had that chance. I just want to shout: what

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-73490406823726110512009-03-26T14:25:00.004Z2009-03-27T13:42:29.444Z

I knew there was another reason I hated Spandau Ballet. It wasn't just the rubbish music, or the preposterous clothes. There was something else. As Michael Hann in the Guardian puts it: ‘Thatcherism on vinyl’.At the time of writing, there are 304 comments on this article. The subject has obviously touched a nerve.One of the threads is that the Guardian should not be carrying arguments about pop

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-45095420750935427902009-03-25T21:24:00.001Z2009-03-25T21:26:14.073Z

I’ve just heard a TV news item about Spandau Ballet re-forming. Please no. It was bad enough seeing all those fat middle-aged punk bands back on the road, but at least they made good music.‘They were incredibly stylish’ says a talking head, who is old enough to know better. No they weren’t. They were incredibly stupid.Being all style and no substance is not the same thing as being stylish. It's

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-73457832691349358372009-03-18T21:05:00.002Z2011-10-09T17:56:42.586+01:00

Being a dutiful environmentalist, I went along to the ‘people’s premiere’ of Age of Stupid on Sunday. In case you haven’t heard, it’s a drama documentary about climate change starring lots of real people and Pete Postlethwaite. The real premiere was at Leicester Square, complete with celebrities and green carpet. The one I went to was in that temple of consumerism, the local multiplex. As I

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-77544425067655506092009-03-11T19:20:00.002Z2011-10-09T18:00:07.471+01:00

I only recently heard about Madonna and Jesus, on account of I mostly get my news from the Guardian and Channel 4. And it’s not really what I usually describe as news. Still, you could say it’s good news for older women. Good news for Madonna anyway. I expect she needed cheering up. I’d never claim to have much in common with Madonna, apart from age and a broken marriage (just the one in my

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-52518509703774138482009-02-24T18:15:00.003Z2009-02-28T14:40:22.565Z

What kind of idiot spends money on ‘pancake mix’? Instructions: ‘Just add water and an egg.’Here is my recipe for pancakes. Get some flour. Just add milk and an egg.

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-72380034482521024812009-02-16T21:53:00.005Z2011-10-09T18:01:49.039+01:00

‘Youngsters aren’t just fresher versions of us. They don’t know anything,’ says Don Draper in Mad Men. Don Draper is 36. He’s also a fictional character. But he’s right. At work, I know much more than the youngsters. And they don’t know the half of it. There’s hidden power in being old. On the outside, you look just like them, only older. On the inside, you have a secret weapon. You’re not afraid

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-36507581370583819952009-02-03T18:09:00.003Z2009-02-03T18:14:20.190Z

I can’t remember if I cried... Actually, I don't remember Buddy Holly’s death at all. But I remember the first time I heard one of his songs. It was Everyday, it was 1973 and it was a cover version by the man who wrote American Pie.The 1970s rock’n’roll revival was a wonderful thing. Wonderful for me anyway. Born too late to be there the first time round, the right age to discover it this time.It

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-70701067570415513782009-01-23T00:50:00.001Z2009-01-23T00:53:58.248Z

There are some things in life that are so ghastly you have to repress the memory of them.Like the 1980s.Until I sat down to watch Style on Trial: 1980s I thought I had forgotten all about shoulder pads and shell suits. Lazy people call the 70s the decade that taste forgot. I think not. Consider the evidence: Spandau Ballet, Princess Diana, Margaret Thatcher...If you were to ask me, I’d tell you

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-54848120168707530512009-01-12T23:13:00.003Z2011-10-09T18:09:22.514+01:00

This year I will resolve to stop saying: A bit rock’n’roll. Punk’s not dead. You had to be there. I hope I won’t have to say: Is it me or is it hot in here? Happy Christmas, war isn’t over.

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-77028504241968154592009-01-08T19:50:00.000Z2009-01-08T19:52:13.361Z

Things I’ve learned in the past year.You can be ‘friends’ with someone and know nothing about the really important things that are going on in their life.Nostalgia is tempting. But not always a good idea.Cynicism is tempting. But hope is sometimes better.The only thing that really matters is the health of the people you love.

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-61400535745229041782009-01-06T20:52:00.004Z2011-10-09T18:13:01.107+01:00

Christmas Day might be sacred, but my Christmas hibernation is sacrosanct. I’m lucky: most women my age suffer stress and duty at this time of year. Due to a lucky combination of circumstances, I have managed to avoid all that. I’ve just had the best two weeks of my life: eating, sleeping and watching more TV than I would normally approve of. With the occasional bit of light reading, like the

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-2169506379951354102008-12-21T09:07:00.004Z2011-10-09T18:13:40.025+01:00

I’ve been doing the Christmas cards: that strange delayed communication where you tell someone about your year without knowing what’s happened in their’s (because, assuming you meet the last posting date, the letters inevitably cross). And the older you get, the more worrying the possibilities become and the more careful you have to be. I wouldn’t say that my year has all been plain sailing but

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-40706343262335363752008-12-16T18:16:00.004Z2011-10-09T18:14:13.298+01:00

I don’t spend a lot of time or money doing Christmas shopping these days - the grown-ups in my family decided a few years ago to take a Buy Nothing Christmas approach - which leaves a lot more time for having fun. But I do still have to buy consumerist stuff for the younger generation, which is how I found myself recently in a large record shop. The first thing I saw was a book about the Clash,

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-56876846302960986542008-12-08T21:56:00.001Z2011-10-09T18:14:49.016+01:00

One of the great things about getting older is that you finally get the point of deferred gratification. I love Advent. I love the feeling that something magical is on the horizon but you’re not quite there yet. Christmas can be good, of course, but once your age reaches double figures it’s never actually magical again. Somehow, though, I still get a kick out of the wait. Last night as I came out

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-14586246645722887852008-11-29T08:02:00.004Z2008-12-21T09:16:16.351Z

I failed to avoid music for No Music Day. To achieve that, I would have had to keep out of shops and pubs. And I was on holiday, so no chance.But thinking about No Music made me more aware than ever of the half-heard intrusion into my mental space. Sometimes I believe there really is a conspiracy to stop us thinking for ourselves.I did eventually find a pub that has no music, just good beer and

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-44377985529470258982008-11-21T09:52:00.002Z2008-11-21T09:55:06.839Z

I’m celebrating No Music Day.It’s another prank of Bill Drummond’s. And, like most pranks of Bill’s, it’s actually very serious.As he explained last year to Radio Scotland:The reason for choosing the 21st November is that the 22nd is St Cecilia's dayand St Cecilia being the patron saint of music, there seemed a logic that wefast from music on the day before we may traditionally have celebrated

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-2160265096079127182008-11-18T23:07:00.002Z2008-11-18T23:09:46.352Z

It’s weird the way Facebook asks you to make lists of your favourite music. It’s not as if it proves anything.I could make a list, and it would (of course) be the hippest list there ever was. I’ve made plenty such lists before. But it might not be true. Or it might only be true for a day. Some days I feel like listening to Cole Porter. Some days I feel like listening to Carl Perkins. Often I feel

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-90461441506833186112008-11-08T15:43:00.002Z2008-11-18T23:16:28.753Z

I tried to do the middle-aged cynic bit. Because it’s a part I like to play and because it keeps me safe. That way you don’t get disappointed.But there was no disappointment the morning after the election. Watching the news, I allowed myself for a little while to be moved. It was Jesse Jackson’s tears that finally did it.It felt like 1997 again.Maybe that’s my reason to be cynical. Because after

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-2676885773043839162008-11-07T13:36:00.005Z2008-11-08T15:43:11.553Z

Barack Obama has brought hope to millions of people around the world. Millions of middle-aged people.He was born in 1961 and everyone thinks he's young.

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-65592816052271634872008-10-23T21:55:00.008+01:002011-10-09T18:15:56.197+01:00

They are making us wear pink to work tomorrow. If we wear pink, we give them money. If we don’t wear pink, we give them more money. Sounds like a good business model. (Yes, I’m grown up now and I have a career and I can use expressions like ‘business model’ without laughing. Well, almost.) Unfortunately, I don’t have any pink clothes, apart from a pair of shoes I fell in love with because

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-72628912356211871132008-10-20T19:55:00.004+01:002011-10-09T18:16:56.874+01:00

I don’t watch much TV so I’ve only just caught the famous Johnny Rotten butter advert, although several people have told me about it. They seemed to think I’d be upset. Funnily enough, I don’t care. John Lydon sold out when he re-formed the Sex Pistols. What he does when he’s not being a Sex Pistol is no concern of mine. He’s making a good job of reinventing himself as a great British eccentric

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-41238583686148436702008-10-09T22:56:00.003+01:002011-10-09T18:17:35.590+01:00

Today is National Poetry Day and the theme is work. Which I do not find inspiring as a theme but which does at least inspire people to get some poetry into their workplace. My own working day was considerably happier for the appearance throughout the day of ‘random poems’ (as the young people like to say) around the office. I felt like your parents pretending to be Father Christmas as I crept in

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-75449666235491691502008-10-05T15:15:00.001+01:002008-10-05T15:16:52.372+01:00

I liked Seasick Steve’s song title I Started Out With Nothin And I Still Got Most Of It Left. Partly because it’s amusing and partly because it’s economical: it tells you everything you need to know about the man - his image and his music. Which mean you don’t actually have to listen to him.We’re watching him on TV, and Partner (who is a guitarist) says: the blues is much more interesting to play

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-38187519211016779122008-10-02T22:27:00.010+01:002011-10-09T18:57:54.440+01:00

I’ve just come back from Liverpool where I spent some of my formative years. There’s a bit of a nostalgia fest going on there at the moment and it’s left me feeling more confused than ever about the fact I’m not 20 any more and what the hell I’m going to do about it. Emotional roller coaster? More like a bloody ghost train. Liverpool in Capital of Culture year is buzzy, user friendly, full of

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-73786816177824860372008-09-30T22:08:00.003+01:002011-10-09T18:20:02.202+01:00

Is it just me, or does every website in the world carry a Google Ad telling readers how to lose weight? Facebook’s tendency to typecast is becoming particularly sinister. It knows how old I am, and every time I log in I find it inviting me to buy a new boiler or to lose ten pounds. Funnily enough, I have done both of these things this year already.

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-16584879890995822892008-09-16T10:04:00.007+01:002011-10-09T18:21:45.835+01:00

One day in the mid 1970s I horrified my English teacher when she found me reading Jackie magazine. She knew my favourite book was Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and couldn’t understand how I could hold two such contradictory positions. Holding contradictory positions is, of course, a requirement of being a teenager (or any other transitional period, eg becoming middle-aged). And, as a

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-35729113259194889282008-09-10T22:43:00.003+01:002011-10-09T18:51:12.322+01:00

I used to say that I would have ‘Philip Larkin was right’ on my gravestone, as a tribute to his best known poem. Well, I’m grown-up now and I’ve got over it, but I still think he was right about other things. For example, saying the 1960s began in 1963. OK, he didn’t actually say ‘the 1960s’ in Annus Mirabilis (that would not have grabbed attention in the same way). But the principle is the same:

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-6340538761907526042008-08-21T09:01:00.002+01:002011-10-09T18:27:02.086+01:00

Someone else has noticed that the lead singer in Glasvegas looks like Joe Strummer. Apart from the fact they make good music, this is another reason to like them. In 1977, the Clash were my joint-favourite band (along with the Ramones). Also, I always fancied Joe Strummer. Sadly, I feel I should avoid feeling the same about James Allan. I am old enough to be his mother.

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-68914784712826647552008-08-16T09:53:00.004+01:002011-10-09T18:27:35.132+01:00

The NME was right when it put ‘Remember him this way’ on their cover the week Elvis died. I was wrong when I thought the Clash were cool and prophetic. ‘No Elvis, Beatles or the Rolling Stones in 1977.’The world would be no poorer without the Rolling Stones, and I could happily live without ever hearing the Beatles again. But Elvis’s death was a loss.In the end, the Clash had to own up to their

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190313350490878932.post-1977264038604206652008-08-11T21:13:00.001+01:002009-03-25T21:35:23.428Z

I’ve never been a fan of singer songwriters, but sometimes songs tell the truth better than anything else. I’ve heard songs by Lucinda Williams and recognised myself. And once I heard a song of hers and recognised someone else. Someone who died twenty years ago and should not have done. Here’s the song.

olderthanelvishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04550897644932906952noreply@blogger.com0