Old Before My Time

I've been assured many times in my 33 years that I was either born in the wrong century (and I'm very rarely late by a few minutes let alone decades) or that I'm getting old before my time. My wife has now told me on countless occasions - probably because I haven't been keeping track - that I've lost my sense of humour. If you've seen Will Ferrell in Step Brothers and failed to laugh at very much of it at all and are under the age of 50 then please let her know that I'm not the only one.

Sure, I'll accept that I'm not the same spry, happy-go-lucky, care-free soul I once was. I am no longer terrified at the very thought of wearing a cardigan (around the house, at least). I like tobacco pipes, classical music, my slippers, a warm bed and reading a book in a comfy armchair. I find Stephen Fry endlessly amusing, I have mortgage payments to contribute to (and soon I'll have two) and despair at the long hair and lack of any sort of intelligence or manners in anyone born after 1990 but I don't think I've gone too far just yet.

I'm not yet prepared to delete my Slipknot albums from my MacBook Pro, cut off my internet connection, throw out my iPhone or my XBox 360, change my preference for our next car to a Volvo stationwagon from a V8 Commodore, start panting at the thought of an Andre Rieu concert or start wearing some smart brogues instead of a pair of running shoes.

Whether I'll ever find Will Ferrell all that funny is another matter.