Sunday was the 32nd anniversary of our first date. I am now more than twice the age I was when Cornflake and I met.
We celebrated with a Sunday lunch out. It was very nice. The matter of our age didn’t really pop up in general chitchat. Wether or not to have the cheese platter did. Sticky toffee pudding? Well maybe.
The walk home took us past the local old peoples home.
I have outdated ideas regarding the musical choices of old folks. I am stuck in the memory of the lunches and entertainment my school used to host for the aged. I still visualise the retired listening to a bit of Glen Miller, a dash of Frank Sinatra, a bit of Lindy hop for the more spritely. I forget that I am but a blink away from retirement and old folk status myself.
My thinking was slapped into line on Sunday.
The street was filled with music from the home, loud music, very very loud music, heavy metal music, specifically AC/DC’s Highway to Hell.
Indeed.
I know this is the chap from Kiss, AC/DC aren’t very much my kind of heavy metal looking, soz.
fat tart 