The weekend before last we visited our eldest son Rob and his fiancée Alessa in their new house in Sussex. We had a lovely few days, eating well, drinking well and seeing the sights. I had not realised how beautiful that area of the country is, with rolling chalks downs and extensive views of the sea. Before we arrived Rob called to ask if we would like to join them at “On the Beach”, a music festival in Brighton. Mandy said she would prefer to stay at home with the dogs but I decided to go. I quite like the bands (The Kooks, Maximo Park, Kate Nash and others) and it sounded like an adventure.

I did enjoy the festival. The music was good, the weather stayed mostly fine and we had a few beers. But I did feel old. I was one of the oldest there and I confess I was glad we sat halfway back instead of pushing forwards into the mosh pit. I was also glad when we left before the last few songs so that we could beat the traffic.
If I had been Rob’s age I would have laughed roundly at such behaviours. What an old fogey! But I think at 60 it is time to embrace old fogeyism. I can enjoy occasions such as On The Beach without having to pretend I am 20 again.
What do you think? Is it good to act my age, or is that the first sign of the downward slope towards senility and death?

