If I was in NZ I would be 60 already, though technically, since I was born in England at 1.15 in the morning, I won’t be 60 years old in absolute chronological terms until 9.15 tomorrow morning western Australia time.

When I look in the mirror (something I try to avoid)  I don’t see a sixty year old man.  I see a stranger.  Someone I sort of recognise but don’t know.  That is not me. I got lost in about 1975.



About Alan

Alone in a sea of spinifex.
This entry was posted in Life, don't talk to me about life!. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to 60

  1. Alan says:

    I hear you! And yep to have you here would be awesome. The neat thing is this: Knowing you are there is pretty awesome too. And I do not use the word “Awesome” lightly.

    I have that feeling too that there is more behind me than before, so I should get on with doing things that make me happy, or at least content. I am lucky that I like my job. It is a rare day that I am anxious to be somewhere else. Today was great because everyone has been really kind. Everyone gets a morning tea on their birthday, but not everyone is taken out to lunch, so that is special.


  2. DaveB says:

    As I approach 60, this year, I have suddenly begun to feel mortal. It happened very quickly. One minute I’m cruising along, no particular age, just me, being me, doing what I do. Then within a very short period I I can feel and envisage the idea of not being here. Not in a maudlin, depressing way but in an objective(still) , time is closing in I’d better get on with it way.
    Hey, it’s the year of the dragon(me) so it’s all on baby.
    Have a good day my old friend, sure wish I could be there to share.


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