Notwithstanding the title, some sizable proportion of police officers are female; many are younger than my children. I've had medical attention myself from physicians and nurses who were friends of my kids decades ago. There's a certain (shall we say) intimacy to being exposed navel to knees just before anaesthesia and having a recognition and catch-up discussion with a young woman who used to play with my kids. Me to anaesthetist: "give me a double, doc!" (okay I only thought it).
Yes, he drank in the Anglesey Arms in Selwood Terrace and had an eye for young ladies in skirts. He had been known to buy a round of drinks for some fellow students, hence when we went drinking there I was forced out of jeans and into a skirt to act as bait for my colleagues to be able to talk to him. Not that it ever worked for me.
With reference to ISIHAC - who remembers Willy Rushton?
And all the other fresh-faced young satirists - David Frost, Lance Percival, Roy Kinnear, Kenneth Cope, Millicent Martin?
I remember the surprise of seeing it actually taking place in a TV studio! I mean you did occasionally see cameras or sound booms in shot, but not deliberately.
I can remember when and where I first saw a television set. I was 15 and the set was on a metal fixture quite high up on the wall, at picture height, in fact.
And now people look blank when I boast that I invited Michael York to my college dance.
I first saw TV at my grandmother's house. It was a Saturday night ritual: confession at church, then to Grandma's to watch Beat the Clock and Mr. Peepers while eating popcorn popped fresh on Grandma's stove.
It was quite the status symbol at school if we could tell our classmates that we had a TV. The hot topic for bragging was how many channels it could receive and which of them were free of "snow".
Dolly's been getting a lot of attention on TV in the past couple of months, including various specials. She also gave $1m for vaccine research to one of the drug companies.
I'm starting to get to the point where some of the parents of my students are younger than me. I haven't yet got to the point of teaching kids whose parents I taught but it can't be far away.
I have taught a number of parents whose children I later taught or who attended schools where I was principal or deputy. The example which I remember best was a very naughty boy at my last school, in a different town from his parents' school, who was brought to my office - he was in second grade I think. The conversation went a bit like this:
Me: "Is your Dad named J?"
Him: "Yes"
Me: "And your uncle is D?"
Him: "Yes"
Me: "And your aunty is C?"
Him: "Yes"
Me: "Ask them if they remember Mr BA, and if he lets little boys behave badly in class."
He and I spent many hours together, as he would sit at a desk in the corner of the office doing his classwork, until he simmered down from his latest outburst, after which he would return to class..
Reading books or seeing television programmes with people like Terry Pratchett and Clive James and still finding it sad and shocking that they are no longer with us. How can these people be dead?
Going back to how people refer to those of (ahem) more mature years, I could cheerfully have decked one of the volunteers where I had my jab yesterday. She was standing next to me while I was queuing, so in an attempt to make polite conversation, I said something along the lines of not having seen so many people all together for a year. She said, ‘Ah, bless’.
When I was called forward to sit outside the cubicle until it was free, she wiped the seat down (fine), but as it was wet, I carried on standing until it dried off a bit. She carefully explained to me that it was all right, she had cleaned it and I could sit down.
Then finally, as I was leaving, the person in front of me was in a wheelchair and it was taking a little while for her to manoeuvre around the corner and out of the door, so I hung back to give her space. Up runs volunteer, ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes, I’m just waiting until this lady...’
(concerned face), ‘No, I’m worried about you!’
I must look a lot frailer than I imagine!
Sorry for the rant; normal service may now resume.
I had something similar yesterday when I went for a covid test. Half way through the logging in process on my phone, I touched the wrong link and had to backtrack (my fingers were numb with cold, standing outside the door!) and I apologised for taking so long. He looked at me and smirked and said, “Never mind, you’re doing well!” Obviously thought this was a little old lady who wasn’t tech savvy. I forebore to tell him that I have been using computers since the early 1980s.
I had something similar yesterday when I went for a covid test. Half way through the logging in process on my phone, I touched the wrong link and had to backtrack (my fingers were numb with cold, standing outside the door!) and I apologised for taking so long. He looked at me and smirked and said, “Never mind, you’re doing well!” Obviously thought this was a little old lady who wasn’t tech savvy. I forebore to tell him that I have been using computers since the early 1980s.
There's no better way to confirm the impression of age than to scold one's juniors that you know what you're doing because you've been doing it since before they were born.
Arethosemyfeet, I can’t speak for Sparrow, but for me, I don’t much care about ‘the impression of age’ - I am old - it’s the (often kindly meant) condescension.
I remember my father saying that when he retired, he found that one day, he was running a company and the next, the lady in the Post Office was offering to help him fill in a form.
I'm starting to get to the point where some of the parents of my students are younger than me. I haven't yet got to the point of teaching kids whose parents I taught but it can't be far away.
You don't have to teach for all that long to approach your second generation.
When David taught in Orkney, he was a live-in tutor at the hostel for kids from the outer islands (nice little flat and full board for a couple of nights' supervision a week). In the last intake of infants he taught before we moved to Belfast was the son of a girl who had been a pupil in the hostel when he arrived nine years before.
I remember my father saying that when he retired, he found that one day, he was running a company and the next, the lady in the Post Office was offering to help him fill in a form.
MMM
Reminds me of a cartoon in which Willi Brandt and Golda Meir are sitting on a park bench - 'Last week, this would have been a summit'.
I have let my hair grow not wanting to have people working around my head while the virus is going on. Three people, all under 30 have told me that it makes me look younger. At 83 how much younger can one look, or for that matter care. On the other hand always nice to have a compliment.
Willi Brandt and Golda Meir . . . if you remember who they were
I have my own version of "Does a bear sh*t in the woods?" as a rejoinder to a question to which the answer is obviously yes: "Did Golda Meir keep a kosher kitchen?"
Although an acquaintance who had lived for a time in Israel told me she didn't.
I think my first "feeling old" moment came when one of the Belfast choristers asked if I'd watched Fawlty Towers, which was being repeated on the BBC at the time (probably early 90s). "No", I replied, "but I saw it the first time round".
Then I suddenly realised that was before the chorister had been born ...
Re: classic films - Chariots of Fire is older now than Whisky Galore was the first time I saw it.
I think that point comes earlier when you have regular contact with youth groups: the first time I felt old was when we had Guides join who were born in 2000. The point where I was already a graduate was a few years ago, and that was probably worse. (I can remember the Bosnian conflict on Newsround, my very earliest memory of the news was the Berlin wall falling.)
I have been using computers since the early 1980s.
January 1, 1980, 12:00am, to be precise . . . which in Computerese is the beginning of time.
It was sometime in 1970 or 1971 I punched my first cards for reading by the card reader of the Cambridge Titan computer to do a statistical calculation. I remember being baffled by the idea that people could program using a visual display unit.
I think my first "feeling old" moment came when one of the Belfast choristers asked if I'd watched Fawlty Towers, which was being repeated on the BBC at the time (probably early 90s). "No", I replied, "but I saw it the first time round".
Then I suddenly realised that was before the chorister had been born ...
Re: classic films - Chariots of Fire is older now than Whisky Galore was the first time I saw it.
I think that point comes earlier when you have regular contact with youth groups: the first time I felt old was when we had Guides join who were born in 2000. The point where I was already a graduate was a few years ago, and that was probably worse. (I can remember the Bosnian conflict on Newsround, my very earliest memory of the news was the Berlin wall falling.)
Oh thanks for that, now I feel old! (that happened about the time I got married)
I had something similar yesterday when I went for a covid test. Half way through the logging in process on my phone, I touched the wrong link and had to backtrack (my fingers were numb with cold, standing outside the door!) and I apologised for taking so long. He looked at me and smirked and said, “Never mind, you’re doing well!” Obviously thought this was a little old lady who wasn’t tech savvy. I forebore to tell him that I have been using computers since the early 1980s.
Similar happened to me last week at the vaccinations , though I didn’t receive the remarks; just the look of reassurance. I’d actually got a backup, in the form of the info needed scribbled down on my invite letter, but I was determined I’d not be ‘that’ old lady fumbling about in her handbag. No, I was going to whip out my phone and nonchalantly key in the necessary/fumble about in my emails.
By the time the Berlin Wall fell, I had been married for over 5 years.
So had I, and divorced as well 😈
I was married for 13 years at the time -- and should have been divorced! (My then husband was in his third dry-out/rehab while the Wall was being torn down.)
I recently had to see a different oncologist as my previous one had left. While sitting in the corridor, waiting my turn, a secondary school lad on work experience passed by. I smiled, thinking it was nice that the hospital had let him wear a white coat. You've guessed it...he was my new oncologist. It felt vaguely indecent having him check my breasts. ( But he had lovely warm hands!!!).
Comments
[ISIHAC]...Mr and Mrs Bodilyharm and their Cypriot son, Grivas Bodilyharm...[/ISIHAC]
Nearly 30 years, actually...
And all the other fresh-faced young satirists - David Frost, Lance Percival, Roy Kinnear, Kenneth Cope, Millicent Martin?
I remember the surprise of seeing it actually taking place in a TV studio! I mean you did occasionally see cameras or sound booms in shot, but not deliberately.
And now people look blank when I boast that I invited Michael York to my college dance.
I first saw TV at my grandmother's house. It was a Saturday night ritual: confession at church, then to Grandma's to watch Beat the Clock and Mr. Peepers while eating popcorn popped fresh on Grandma's stove.
It was quite the status symbol at school if we could tell our classmates that we had a TV. The hot topic for bragging was how many channels it could receive and which of them were free of "snow".
Clearly I read that it was 20 years old nearly 10 years ago. Now THAT is compound interest, if you like.
Even Dolly’s looking young(er) nowadays!
Don't Diss Dolly!
There was a teacher at my secondary school who had taught the grandparents of current students before he retired.
At my first teaching job, one of my colleagues had been a high school classmate of my father and remembered him.
Me: "Is your Dad named J?"
Him: "Yes"
Me: "And your uncle is D?"
Him: "Yes"
Me: "And your aunty is C?"
Him: "Yes"
Me: "Ask them if they remember Mr BA, and if he lets little boys behave badly in class."
He and I spent many hours together, as he would sit at a desk in the corner of the office doing his classwork, until he simmered down from his latest outburst, after which he would return to class..
When I was called forward to sit outside the cubicle until it was free, she wiped the seat down (fine), but as it was wet, I carried on standing until it dried off a bit. She carefully explained to me that it was all right, she had cleaned it and I could sit down.
Then finally, as I was leaving, the person in front of me was in a wheelchair and it was taking a little while for her to manoeuvre around the corner and out of the door, so I hung back to give her space. Up runs volunteer, ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes, I’m just waiting until this lady...’
(concerned face), ‘No, I’m worried about you!’
I must look a lot frailer than I imagine!
Sorry for the rant; normal service may now resume.
MMM
There's no better way to confirm the impression of age than to scold one's juniors that you know what you're doing because you've been doing it since before they were born.
I remember my father saying that when he retired, he found that one day, he was running a company and the next, the lady in the Post Office was offering to help him fill in a form.
MMM
You don't have to teach for all that long to approach your second generation.
When David taught in Orkney, he was a live-in tutor at the hostel for kids from the outer islands (nice little flat and full board for a couple of nights' supervision a week). In the last intake of infants he taught before we moved to Belfast was the son of a girl who had been a pupil in the hostel when he arrived nine years before.
Reminds me of a cartoon in which Willi Brandt and Golda Meir are sitting on a park bench - 'Last week, this would have been a summit'.
And if you remember who they were...
Although an acquaintance who had lived for a time in Israel told me she didn't.
It was sometime in 1970 or 1971 I punched my first cards for reading by the card reader of the Cambridge Titan computer to do a statistical calculation. I remember being baffled by the idea that people could program using a visual display unit.
Oh thanks for that, now I feel old! (that happened about the time I got married)
I'd just about been alive over five years.
Similar happened to me last week at the vaccinations , though I didn’t receive the remarks; just the look of reassurance. I’d actually got a backup, in the form of the info needed scribbled down on my invite letter, but I was determined I’d not be ‘that’ old lady fumbling about in her handbag. No, I was going to whip out my phone and nonchalantly key in the necessary/fumble about in my emails.
Oh well, we got there in the end.
So had I, and divorced as well 😈
I was married for 13 years at the time -- and should have been divorced! (My then husband was in his third dry-out/rehab while the Wall was being torn down.)