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Survival of the Slickest
If you still have a stash of Deutschmarks or French Francs under your bed, my advice to you is don’t burn them just yet, you could be the envy of your neighbours because if the Spanish economy should collapse as happened in Greece, it is hardly likely that the Euro will hold together and you will be laughing all the way to the bank.
I apologise for a doom and gloom rhetoric this week (for those of you who haven’t got a stash of Deutschmarks or Francs under the bed) but there are financial gurus out there, in what they call the real world, who believe that Spain’s economy, (19% of its workforce unemployed) is in deeper trouble their Central Bank cares to openly admit. Of course it would help if they could devalue their currency to encourage more tourism or increase their exports but this is not possible because their currency’s value is geared up to Germany and France's strong economy. Nor can Spain cut its interest rates because such matters can only be decided by the European Central Bank in Frankfurt and at present there is little chance of it doing this at present.
I am not betting on Spain’s chances of survival (typical Euro sceptic you will be saying) but I can see it now. It will be like the old halcyon times; our passports at the ready and our wallets lined with GBP traveller’s cheques ready to be changed for old and crumpled Peseta, Drachma and depending on Portugal’s economic survival, Escudo bank notes, as we embark once again on affordable continental holidays. Of course, this also depends on the UK economy surviving.
On a less serious note, I read that Warren Buffett, that modest multi-billionaire, who alternates with Bill Gates as being the world’s richest man came up with a tongue in cheek answer to our financial problems in his latest shareholder’s letter. He advised his followers to, "Sing a country song in reverse, and you will quickly recover your car, house, and wife."
Water wars
Do you remember when the only time you needed to drink bottled water was when you went on holiday to remote destinations? For my delicate digestive system that tended to mean anywhere outside of the UK for many years, but never in my home town of London. These days you can't even order a glass of tap water in a bar without being offered the "mineral water menu".
In 2007 London's tap water was rated the best in Britain by scientists and in various taste tests has often come out tops over well known bottled brands such as Evian. Globally we consume 200bn litres of bottled water every year, requiring more than 200m barrels of oil to produce, package and distribute. The global bottled water market valuation grew by 7% in 2006 to reach a value of $60,938.1 million - and yet this is a product that flows freely from our taps.
We don't live in a third world country - our water is 100% drinkable. Admittedly it doesn't always taste delicious - in many places it's chalky and gritty - something water companies put down to aged pipes which they're trying to replace - but that's nothing a water filter can't rectify.
I'm sceptical as to whether London's mayor, the windswept Boris Johnson, will actually live up to his promises, but I admire his intention to introduce more public water fountains in parks and public spaces across London to help deter people from buying plastic bottles.
The Evening Standard has also launched a "Water On Tap campaign" which aims to get London's bars and restaurants to offer tap water to customers as a matter of course, rather than environmentally unfriendly bottled water. Thousands of businesses have signed up to the scheme, including Antony Worrall Thompson's restaurants, Jamie Oliver's Fifteen and Aldo Zilli's Zilli Fish.
Let's get back to basics and make the most of our safe, disease free water - and for those of you who need a bit of fizz in your H2o - buy a soda stream.
Greece my Palm...
Surprise, surprise? Greece has managed to get itself into debt to the tune of 300 billion Euros (£259 bn) and now it is somewhat concerned how it, or should I say France, Germany, the rest of the European Union and we - we being the average tax payers - are going to resolve this problem.
The Greek government have come up with a viable austerity plan: to cut the budget deficit below the EU ceiling of 3% of GDP by 2012, from 12.7% in 2009: freeze public sector salaries and cut bonuses; replace only one in five of people leaving the civil service, raise average retirement by two years to 63, by 2015; and raise taxes on fuel, tobacco, alcohol and property.
This looks good on paper but as corruption has always been an essential part of Greece's political culture, where kickbacks are the norm for the provision of public services, those involved (an estimated 30% of the population) are not going to change their profitable habits overnight. According to the charts of international organisations such as the international Monetary Fund and the World Bank, Greece’s corruption record is even higher than that of most third world countries. Typically, the first reaction by the Greek trade unions and the public sector, faced with the austerity package, was to strike, further harming what little is left of their fragile economy.
France and Germany particularly are determined not let Greece fail, but any rescue package is eventually going to come out of all our pockets and not just those in the Eurozone countries.
If it was not so sad or serious an issue then I believe I have the solution to the Greek problem. Looking at a map of the Eurozone, how easy it would be to take a pair of scissors and snip Greece off the chart. After all, they have only been in the Eurozone since 2001. We would not be responsible for their mistakes, they would then get back their drachma to bribe with, and we, the grateful tourists, would get another inexpensive holiday destination – Jamas!
Discovery of the Peter Pan gene
An article in the Daily Mail today tells of the "Peter Pan" gene that could "explain why some people remain baby-faced while others become old before their time". Apparently millions of Britons are blessed with DNA that makes them look up to eight years younger than their peers. The accompanying pictures of Mick Jagger and Paul McCartney illustrate the piece perfectly. Paul is a couple of years older than Mick - but looks years younger.
When I was a fresh faced 16 year old I was always mortified that I was the only one of my friends consistently asked to show ID at pubs and clubs. At the time my Mother commiserated but told me she'd suffered the same embarrassment - and that ultimately it proved our "baby-face" genes - which we'd be grateful for later in life.
Well that time has truly arrived for me. There are many bonuses to being a late bloomer - my nose is one of mine - I was very happy when my squashed tomato of a nose formed itself into something more "patrician" (at least in profile) in my late twenties.
There is also something secretly gratifying when one looks around at ones peers and sees that one has weathered the storm of life with less noticeable signs of wear and tear.
I think the only drawback to being a late bloomer is the feeling of never being taken entirely seriously. In teenage years my older looking friends matured much faster and took themselves a lot more seriously. As I've never looked my age, I've never felt my age, and probably then never acted my age, whether this is actually a pro or con depends entirely on your own viewpoint - personally - I'm pro all the way.
Paying for the Experience
According to a recent Travel Industry Association of America survey, almost one half of U.S. adults, that’s about 98 million people, have taken an adventure trip. Not surprisingly it is the over fifties who are amongst the most surprising demographic of this new breed of adventure traveller. It is the Senior citizens who have not only the means, but the enthusiasm to travel. Having belatedly realized that it is not just young people who are into adventure, the Global travel and leisure industry is rushing to log into the growing demand of the increasing elderly population.
But do we really believe that the only way to experience adventure is by paying for it, when even a quite trivial event as going for a walk, mowing the lawn or clearing the snow can be someone’s adventure. Do we need to pay to be personally guided down a raging river in Colorado, make a parachute jump, climb Everest or swim with hungry blue sharks to proclaim a personal adventure experience? I could tell many an adventure story about just going to and coming from work, meeting with old friends or just the adventure of making new ones. Such events may sound insignificant, but if you see every day life as an adventure, while not being as exciting as training with the French Foreign Legion in Guyana or sand gliding in the Sahara, it is certainly less strenuous, probably more full filling and much less expensive.
OK, so you cannot show friends a thousand digital photos of you and Ethel in a Inca toilet in Machu Pichu, abseiling down K2 or barrelling over the Niagara Falls – is anyone truthfully interested? Do you really need to pay for an adventure experience just to tell everyone you have had one? No thanks. That’s not for me, but I will keep you informed of any untoward experience happening on my way home from the pub tonight – without photos of course.
Goodbye spinsters, hello "Swofties"
I've just discovered a term for a new demographic of over fifties: Swofties (Single Women Over Fifty). It sounds as bad as yuppies, bobos, dinkies and scupies - but unfortunately it's not likely to die out as quickly, because this new demographic has risen by just over five per cent in the last 10 years.
According to a survey carried out by Opinium Research, over 600,000 older women in the UK are opting for the single life. A quarter of single women over 50 say they’ve never been happier, more than one in 10 say they have a great social life costing them in the region of £78 a month. Many are also using social networking sites and actively dating.
How things have changed in the last forty years or so. Couple's didn't see an alternative to a miserable marriage, they just stayed together till the bitter end, "for the sake of the children" or for a bit of companionship in old age. These days, perhaps because we're living longer and healthier lives, the idea of sticking with a loveless marriage out of obligation, is unthinkable.
And if, as a recent article in the UK press suggests, 60 is the new middle age, it probably does make sense to have a relationship spring clean if things aren't looking too peachy.
It seems the stereotype of the "sad old spinster" is well and truly dead, with the new "Swofties" generation sweeping out the old to make the most of their so called "golden years". Good on them I say.
Calling a Spade a Spade
I received a bit of flack recently for addressing my good friend as Taff. Apparently this is now very non-PC. But Taff does come from Wales and is proud to be called just that. I have been calling him Taff for around forty years and I did not even remember what his real name was. From now on, in the ever increasingly eccentric and ridiculous world of PC, I should, if I could pronounce it, call him by his real name, Uchdryd; in Celtic meaning the legendary son of Erim, which is a bit weird because his father is also Erim and I would not call the five feet four and whippet thin Uchdryd legendary. Taff2 is his brother Wmffre (meaning friend of the Huns) yes, because he has been turfed out of every pub in Llanfairpwllgwyngyll and now does his drinking in nearby Trewalchmai. I call him Heuvoduro (Spanish for hardboiled egg) because he is bald and no-one in Blaenau Ffestiniog thinks this is non-PC. Truth is; Blodwyn Jones the barmaid likes the nickname so much that she is thinking of bestowing it on the baby boy she is expecting, instead of HenBeddestyr which Brongwyn, her mother, wants to call him.
My father was Welsh and my surname is a Welsh one, so when I joined the army I was automatically christened Taff or Taffy. I kept quiet about coming from Manchester or I would have been called Manky, which is a Scottish word meaning unclean person or an unclean act. No one knew me as Bryan; to close friends, due to my mop of red hair, I was Ginger and neither of these nicknames bothered me. My official military moniker was Thomas 72, as there was a whole rash of Thomas’s in the battalion at that time. The 72 being the last two digits of my army number.
What I am banging on about is; how did all this PC rubbish get to the level it has and why is it Political Correctness anyway? No one I know or have known has been offended by my calling them Taffy, Jock, Paddy. Toff, Piky or whatever. It has always been a traditional, familiar and practical way of addressing those, whose names you did not know, but whose accents, backgrounds or distinguishing features identified them. The zealots who are calling themselves politically correct should remember that there is only one standard of correctness to measure up to; and that is good manners.
Working through retirement
Harriet Harman's latest proposals for a change in the pensionable age have left me in a quandry. I welcome the news on one hand - the thought of being put out to pasture at 65 has alway been slighty distateful idea. But on the other hand I'm also worried about the pressure on over 65ers to stay on. In an aging population it certainly doesn't make sense for the older half to be supported by the younger half - and I'm certain that most 65-70 year olds are happy to have the option to stay in the work place for longer. But beyond that - do we not deserve a rest from the working rat race? Would I rather get up at 6am every day and not be home before 6pm, or potter around in my garden all day?
One piece of research makes me feel less undecided and backs up what my own family have thought for years, that later retirement 'may stave off dementia'. I clearly remember a close family members' decline after retiring at 70. He steadily slipped into dementia until he was lost to everyone. We all felt that he would have been happier working, the social contact and his own pride in his skills made working enjoyable and fulfilling. Sitting at home all day drinking tea did nothing for his self esteem or mental health.
British scientists recently studied 1,320 people with dementia and looked at their past education, employment and retirement history. Although there was no link with education or employment, the people who retired later developed dementia later.
The study published in the International Journal of Geriatric Psychiatry found on average with every extra year of employment the age of onset of Alzheimer's Disease became 0.13 years later.
So I'm pretty much sold on a later retirement - not that I have much choice - now that my forecast pension is a pittance, what else can I do?
