In one week I will be 50 years old, half a century.Old! It's not surprising then that I'm reflecting on my life right now. There is this sense that the occasion should be marked in some way, and I don't mean a party.
Catching sight of myself in mirrors, shop windows and spoons to prepare for this new age, I have become a stooping figure, with enormous cheeks (depending on which side of the spoon you look at) and a thoughtful demeanour hiding the weight of the World on my shoulders lightened by a tendency to laugh at fart gags.
I'm just about to turn 51 - what do you call these 50-plus years? Not Middle Aged. Not Senior. My friends who've turned to