When I'm Sixty Four

I’m closing in on half a century, and to paraphrase R.E.M, I feel fine.In fact better than fine. Recent developments have meant that a new, very exciting door has opened for me which could inform the direction my life takes over the next few years. It could be truly life changing.

At the same time this thing was unfolding my mother suffered a stroke which sent my family and I into a tail spin We were worried sick, but we pulled together to support her and each other. She’s back home and well on the road to recovery, but that’s sorta the last ten years in a microcosm for me, pulled between some incredible highs and horrible lows.

So as our towns and streets get festooned with bunting, rose petals are gathered to throw at my feet and parties are hosted in celebration of my birthday a feeling of optimism is in the air. Everything is beginning to open up gain. I find myself looking ahead with anticipation, but also taking a look back.

My forties have been a good, although life has landed some punches on me. I hope that’s helped to temper some of my egotistical tenancies and upped my empathy. I’ve been fortunate to bare witness to some outstanding examples of compassion, which have taught me to have a wider perspective on life. All artfully vague I know and I’ll glide over all the Johnny Big Potato stuff I’ve been lucky enough to achieve, but I’ve done things I couldn’t have dreamed of. I’ve also been unlucky enough to have had three stints working in call centres over the last ten years because of my own hubris, but even those have had their plus sides. I did have a horrific job in a leading Welsh art organisation which even years later would give me nightmares before the relief of waking up, man it was terrible.

A more positive recent development has been my sea swimming which is life affirming in the most blissful and freezing of ways, and I’m planning to greet the dawning of my half century with a swim in Penarth and maybe around the pier which I did for the first time last week. It makes me feel alive.

My forties also saw my star turns as a walking prop. I did my first extra job the day that Prince died, and done around 25 jobs, most often in Casualty where I once had a walk on roll as a paramedic where I was bastard awful. There’s an awful lot of hanging about, but it has also been a huge giggle and I’ve got a lot of stories out of my time as an extra. My Poldark anecdote is a particular corker, His Dark Materials were a shower of bastards, I had a great time on The Trial of Christine Keel but my highlight was my second appearance on Doctor Who, in a scene with The Doctor and The Master. It was fucking brilliant. On the second day of filming Sacha Dhawan gave me cheery “Morning mate!” and I shamelessly leaned into shot so I could be seen with The Doctor. If you’d told my ten year old self that I would be actually in Doctor Who he wouldn’t have believed you. The lunch was top notch as well.

I hope I’ve become a kinder person, and want to spend my fifties making up for some of the prickish things I did early in my life. I’m very fortunate to have great friends and my relationship with Sian has deepened, I love the girl to death and as per we’ve had some great times - our trip to Tokyo stands out - and we’ve faced some pretty horrible events over the last ten years together. Oh, she drives me up the wall sometimes but I’m self aware enough to know i do the same to her, but she’s just bloody brilliant and I love spending time with her, which is lucky.

I want to spend the next ten years strengthening my Buddhist practice, building my Dalek army, doing all the Johnny Big potato stuff and helping as many people I love as I can. I’ll keep submitting for my annual rejection from the R.A (this year will be different, yeahyeahyeah) I’m gonna start training with an eye on getting a sub three hour marathon in Newport in October. I still have a healthy hairline, most of my teeth and a waistline which is under control. Can’t wait to get going.