The outside world

I suddenly had a eureka moment. I realised my idea of the "outside world" was all wrong.

For some time I've been feeling a bit depressed about the state of the outside world with all its horrors and brutality and inhumanity.

Then it came to me that actually I know next to nothing of the outside world. It's so complex and intricate and enormous that I can't possibly know more than a minute fraction of it.

I might think I know all about (for example) climate change or the polar ice cap or deforestation but I'm kidding myself.

Even what I do know is mostly what the media tells me. And that's often highly suspect. Firstly they only tell us what they think is important, secondly they put their particular slant on it, and thirdly they sensationalise everything. Which means even that tiny bit of knowledge is very unreliable.

So what I refer to as the "outside world" is either a heavily filtered media offering or my own mental picture of the outside world. Neither of those is anything but a sketchy idea of the real thing.

In which case feeling depressed about the outside world is irrational because I'll never have a complete picture of it, and I'm therefore feeling depressed about something that's mostly unknown and unknowable.

So I should stop feeling depressed about the "outside world" and save my dejection for something manifest and tangible.

Simples!

Bottle opening

It's still a hot topic - who is more knowledgeable, youngsters or oldies? There are young people who regard older people as ignorant and behind the times, and oldies who regard the young as clueless and wet behind the ears.

Personally I believe it's a mixture. Both oldies and youngsters are clued-up on some things and baffled by others. No age group has a monopoly on knowledge. Just because you've lived for 60 or 70 years doesn't mean you've acquired more knowledge than a teenager. You may just have accumulated more wrong ideas and pointless skills.

A recent survey reveals 40 things oldies are more likely to know than youngsters. Like how to sew on a button, multiply without a calculator, wire a plug, spell correctly, play chess, iron a shirt, polish shoes, name different birds, make marmalade or give first aid. I'm pleased to say I can do most of them, so how clever am I?

But youngsters could no doubt name 40 things they know that oldies probably don't know - especially things involving technology or passing exams or the damage we're doing to the planet or academic bullshit. And of course they'll ask why anyone needs to know how to sew on a button or make marmalade.

I certainly don't feel I'm more wised-up than the young. For all the things I'm familiar with, there are dozens of other things I know nothing about. Furthermore I'm now much more conscious of my enormous ignorance than when I was young. Back then I was confident I understood all the world's problems and how to solve them. The tangled complexities of life totally escaped me.

Still, some knowledge is important, some isn't. As long as I have the essential skills like opening a wine bottle, unwrapping a chocolate bar, swearing at politicians and dodging Bible bashers, everything's just fine and dandy.

Now I'm 64

Tomorrow I reach the grand old age of 64. As in the Beatles song When I'm 64. Except that it's about 40 years out of date, and things have moved on since then. Nobody's past it at 60 any more.

Knitting a sweater? Digging the weeds? A holiday in the Isle of Wight? I think not. How about sky-diving? Or a trip to Australia? Or climbing Kilimanjaro?

But I'm definitely aware that time is running out. I no longer have my whole life ahead of me, and if I have any major ambitions left, I'd better tackle them now. Who knows, I may be six feet under in a few years' time.

Not that I had many ambitions to start with, and those I've mostly realised or given up on. I'm never going to spill out a literary masterpiece or a world-changing invention. On the other hand I can read an Italian newspaper and I've seen the New Year fireworks in Sydney.

Being 64 also makes me feel I should be passing on my lifetime's experience and knowledge to those who are just starting out. But is that knowledge as useful as I think it is? And do young people want to hear it anyway?

I know when I was young I got very impatient with grizzled old farts giving me well-meaning advice. Firstly I didn't trust any of them. And secondly I just wanted to follow my own instincts and see where they took me. On the whole, they served me well.

At my advanced age, I also wonder if I'm still open to new ideas and attitudes or if I've unknowingly got hidebound and blinkered. I wouldn't like to be one of those crusty old diehards people secretly laugh at.

I think the rot sets in when an oldie starts to dismiss every new trend or fashion as a step back from some mythical golden age. Not me. I can think of too many relics of the past that were far from golden. Bring on the future, I say.

Victor Meldrew I am not.

*Victor Meldrew was the classic grumpy old man in the BBC TV sitcom "One Foot in the Grave"

Pic: Not me and Jenny, just a lovely old couple....