I am not young anymore, and there is no delusion that will create a fog around that reality. At this age, Roger Moore was making The Man With the Golden Gun.
I am closer to my point of death than my first moment of seeing the light.
It has come into focus in the last few days.
Perhaps some of it is carried with my mother dying in December.
Or some comes when I see that some of the people I am on a bill with are young enough to be children of mine. You can halve my age and still have a grown up comedian.
When I was a 23 and a half year old comedian, there weren’t as many old people lurking around (after all, this whole new thing of alternative comedy had only begun 12 years before, and many of them had left the comedy circuit to be stars or poets or playwrights). Last night I was on with Sarah Callaghan, who is far better than I was when I was her age, but due to the lower standards of the time, i was considered to be quite good at 24.
I am getting used to imagining what the young see when my face appears. Trapped in the perpetual childhood of the entertainment industry, I forget that the young see me as a warning rather than as an influence or possible icon.
It seems such a short timer ago that people working at National Trust properties looked on someone like me as a burglar or threat.
Now, I fit into the stately home demographic.
I am an ancient mariner in armbands.
I do not mind being more raddled than Professor Brian Cox, even though I am younger than him. I am aware that part of the radio 4 deal is that i will supply him with my own internal organs when his spleen and liver fails.
I don’t hanker for my youth, because it never reaklly suited me.
I am surprised by my age, but not appalled.
Currently, I am not overly happy with a finite existence that means I’ll never finish all the books I’ve bought (and despite that, I plan to buy more books. IDIOT).
I hope it ends up like going bald. When I was young, I was pretty worried about going bald, but now I am 47, sure, of course I am bald, it’s in those blasted genes.
With luck, death is the same. Now, i am not keen on it AT ALL. But there night come a time, hopefully at about 97 years old, that I am at least as happy to give up life as I was to give up my hair.
New Dead Funny anthology out soon. I am not gigging much, but I will be at Pull The Other One in Nunhead this Friday and Stand Up Philosophy at the Jericho Tavern in Oxford on Thursday, oh and the Cambridge Science festival on Saturday.
There are now 13 episodes of Josie and Robin’s Book Shambles, from Stewart Lee to Eddie Izzard HERE