An Irishman's Diary

I was sitting in my local with a few friends recently when this jovial, red-faced chap came in and bought a round of drinks for…

I was sitting in my local with a few friends recently when this jovial, red-faced chap came in and bought a round of drinks for everybody. Okay, it wasn't a huge - there were only about 10 people there - but it was a nice gesture, deeply appreciated by all the suspects present. We were told he was celebrating his 50th birthday.

I suppose that is as good a reason as any to celebrate. After all, 50 years' mileage on the old body clock is a nice round figure. At 50 you have seen a lot and are entitled - in fact, you have a duty - to celebrate. A half-century walking this planet is a long time to be knocking around.

How times have changed. Age used to be such a taboo subject. It is nice to see the ridiculous old sensitivities about growing old, particularly among women, being abandoned. Liz Taylor and Joan Collins never wanted to reach 40, nor did any woman. In the old days, when women reached 40, time stood still, or people pretended it did. Men used to be touchy too but not quite so bad. Things have changed utterly in recent years. Women now celebrate 50th birthdays, as do men. It is now a wonderful thing to reach 50 and proudly tell the world about it.

Ageing like wine

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Men accept growing old and have plenty of jokes to pass it off. They get satisfaction out of maturing, just like good wine. They enjoy the stability and status it gives them. Of course they regret not being able to run around kicking a football and staying out all night in Temple Bar. They also regret not being able to do many other things they used to do as youngsters, but each new decade has its own compensations. There are fewer insecurities and fears when you are 50. You are more at peace with the world. You have seen it all before, been there, done that. You're not as easily upset; it's just not worth it. You, more than anybody, know that life is short, as you are two-thirds down the road to Boot Hill.

There is also the funny side to being in your fifties. I was astounded and mortified some months ago when a woman got up and let me sit down on the bus. She was obviously blind to my youthful, athletic figure. Despite my protestations, she insisted that I take the seat. I was just as emphatic that I wouldn't sit down, but then - with everybody watching the war of words - I put my dignity on the back boiler and sat down. I'm still suffering from shock.

Lying about your age nowadays is silly. The days of Dorian Gray and eternal youth are long gone. People don't think that way any more. The only thing I have in my attic is rubbish and a few dead mice.

Found out at 100

I had a good chuckle recently when I read the story of Mrs Ina Marshall of East Kilbride, Scotland, who had concealed her true age from her husband John for nearly 75 years of marriage. She was only found out when she received her congratulatory telegram from the Queen on her 100th birthday. John had assumed that they were both the same age when they met in 1917, when he was 18, and she saw no reason to correct him. So he got a surprise when he prepared to hand his wife a bouquet to celebrate her 98th birthday and then the postman arrived with the centenary telegram. Celebrities of both sexes are notorious for bending the truth about their age. There was a great furore this year when it was revealed in a study of the 30,000-plus entries in the latest edition of Who's Who that quite a few had at best been economical with the truth. The actress Susan Hampshire gives her birthday as May 12th, 1942, but her birth certificate states that she was born in 1937. Nanette Newman and Ken Dodd both lop four years off their birth years (1935 and 1927 respectively). The BBC Radio 2 presenter Jimmy Young includes his birthday, September 21st, but not the year (1924). The Harrods boss Mohammed Al-Fayed was born in Egypt in 1929, not 1933 as his entry states.

An insurance executive told me recently that in the future it will not be uncommon for people to live to 110 or 120 years. Maybe he is right. The insurance industry doesn't make many mistakes. With that in mind, I read in the Observer a few weeks ago that two Canadian scientists are, it seems, about to produce a report on how they have identified a genetic mechanism which may dramatically slow ageing by protecting cells.

Toxic by-products

Building on the work of the British professor Michael Rose in developing "Methuselah fruit flies" (whose life expectancy has doubled), the scientists, John Phillips and William Orr, have addressed the fact that breathing creates toxic oxygen by-products. These "free radicals" are meant to be mopped up by a gene called superoxide dismutase (SODI). With ageing, however, the process becomes less reliable and leads to cell damage. Their goal is to implant into nerve-cells a better version of this SODI gene, thus lengthening their life. The hope is that this could lead to a 40 per cent rise in the normal life-span of humans, meaning people might live to 120 while staying vigorous.

Apparently, the spoilsport insurance industry is concerned about this, as it will have to pick up the tag for our lengthy retirement. It doesn't want to be stuck paying out pensions for donkeys' years while we go on and on and on, burning up the golf course and travelling round Ireland on the good old free travel lark.

The Old Testament tells us that Methuselah lived to 969, in command of all his faculties. With the progress of science, maybe I'll be walking into my local when I'm 120 and buying drinks on the house. I wonder how much the pint will cost then?