So wear your hair in bunches
And your jacket loose
So when you hear this autumn song
Clear your heads and get ready to run

Paul aged 2ishBloody hell…I made it. There were significant moments where – genuinely – I didn’t think I would. Chemical substances imbibed or absorbed that shouldn’t have been; unnecessarily dodgy driving manoeuvres at speeds which are strictly forbidden; “wot you lookin’ at” moments that could have ended with a pulverising; we’ve all been there.

I gave the subject of ’40′ much consideration.  Probably too much.  I’ve been writing this for days. I scrapped most of it and started again. And again. And again.  It’s not that 40 is hitting particularly hard, really, despite my fear of it. It just falls into that category of ‘significant milestones’ – and this stuff about 40 being the new 30 is just bollocks.

Actually, I have nothing to complain about.  I had more than 90% of the kids on this planet Paul aged 4ishever had.  Childhood was trouble-free, abuse-free, carefree.  I had a roof over my head.  I had a great family, and while the ‘upper tiers’ are mostly gone, I can say I’m grateful for them all.  This is no more so, than for our mum, who gave up so much to ensure we had everything that she could possibly afford to provide.

I got to grow up in the Seventies and Eighties, which, if you discount Mrs Thatcher, the miners strike and the Troubles, was a pretty good time to be around, if only for the humour of the clothing, a lot of the music, and most of the movies.

I’ve made some very good friends, and I’d trust them with anything.  I have had some lovely girlfriends along the way – more than a bloke with ginger hair should be allowed.  Paul aged 17ishAnd if you’re reading this, Julie Glasgow, I’m really sorry that you caught me with that other girl in Kelly’s the night you came home from your holiday in Scotland. It was over 20 years ago, and I still feel rubbish about it.  I was 17 and thought she was The One. I was wrong.

I have a job. It’s more than 60,000 other people here have at the moment, and while I frequently do, I shouldn’t complain about it. I have (still the same) roof over my head.  I have a hobby which makes me a little money, and occasionally, people very happy.

It’s not been all roses in the garden, but it’s not good to have regrets.  There are some things I’d love to have changed with a wave of a celestial magic wand – the ridiculously-early death of our Dad; my mother’s Parkinson’s Disease; the amount of dosh I’ve spent on cigarettes. Oh, and I’d take back a few things I’ve said to some people in haste, anger or plain bloody-mindedness.

Paul aged 38ishNowhere more do I notice the passage of time than when talking with my nieces and nephew, though.  And I’ve become, in part, that boring old “when I were a lad” fart that everyone’s uncle can be.  I’ve seen it evolve over time with some of the following selected statements: “Roslyn – there was once a time when there were only three channels”. “I watched Live Aid in black and white.” And the classic “This? This is a record. It plays music.”  I’m amazed that 200 LPs and 700 CDs will fit on a block of plastic which measures four inches by two.  I remember Atari being cutting-edge, and the dark magic of the self-developing Polaroid picture. The then-newly-released Empire Strikes Back was the first film I went to see on a big screen, thankfully in a double bill with Star Wars, so I didn’t miss out.  Look at how far we’ve come.

And yet I remain slightly disappointed.  Where is my hovercar?  Where is Moonbase Alpha? And more seriously, why do people still ignore David Attenborough, and others vote for Tories?

The lyrics which top and tail this post are from “Autumnsong” by the Manic Street Preachers. It’s about looking forward, and when you get there, about looking back too. It’s only 40. It’s a milestone, but I’m still young, so I don’t have patronising advice.  I’ll leave that for 60.

But I *do* have some pointers to anyone still in younger age brackets: join a band, not for the sake of popularity with women or among your friends, but for the joy of making music right there in your garage; enjoy your invincibility; smoke everything freely but give up by 30; learn a trade, or at least learn enough of it that you have a back-up plan; take lots and lots of photographs; don’t become an owner of objects which you don’t need; look after and enjoy this pale blue dot upon which you are privileged to live; and above all, be there for those you count as friends.  Karma is a marvellous thing.

Happy Birthday to me!

So when you hear this autumn song
Clear your heads and get ready to run
So when you hear this autumn song
Remember the best times are yet to come

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