“The thing is … if you dump him, he’s not the type who will let things go easily …”

You live and learn don’t you? Yesterday, unusually, I walked along the towpath into Twickenham, just for something to do … well (the truth is) having totally failed to register in advance that it was going to be a Bank Holiday, I had some spare time on my hands and it was a warm, sunny afternoon.

I purport to be a fan of people-watching, but I was immediately struck by the plethora of evidence that (1) there are a hell of a lot of people in this world; and (2) I’m now definitely belong to the ‘ancient’ category. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or depressed.

Having earlier nearly been run over by a cyclist at the traffic lights – the lights had gone red, the vehicle traffic both ways had stopped, so I had stepped off the kerb to cross the road, only to be obliged to jump back to the safety of the pavement again as some previously-unseen bastard came flying along the inside lane at about 40 mph – I had already made a mental note that, upon coming to power, my first presidential decree would be to make being caught in possession of a bicycle a capital offence.

My view was not altered later when, as I and my fellow pedestrians tried to stroll along the tow path beside the river, we found ourselves harassed incessantly by queues of cyclists in tight lycra shorts & silly headgear passing in both directions at anti-social speeds.

There were hundreds of young couples with children out to take the air, or picnicking on the grassy areas & lawns, just enjoying ‘family’ time together. As I walked along, taking it all in, I was able to hear snatched snippets of conversation – I wished afterwards I’d had a little tape recorder with me, because I’d have welcomed another chance to listen to an aural record of my outing … which [and I don’t know why I thought of this] presumably would have given me approximately the same experience as that of a blind man who had made a similar journey.

Based upon yesterday’s evidence, it seems that couples talk about little things, mostly to do with their kids … especially if they have them on hand.

Men in the company of other men tend to talk about sport, e.g. soccer issues and rugby’s Bloodgate.

But women together – it’s a whole new story!

I had reached the centre of Twickenham and was passing a bus stop in the middle of a shopping parade, having just begun my return journey, when I passed two ladies coming the other way, probably in their late twenties. All I caught, as ‘we ships in the night’ passed each other, was the statement with which I began today’s entry.

Plainly this pair of ladies were comparing their relationships and contemplating [I wouldn’t go so far as to say ‘scheming’] the prospect of one of them parting company with her current partner. I’m not so sure that my second presidential decree shouldn’t be to ban women going out together on their own – after all, we don’t want idle chatter destroying the fabric of our society …

I could be clutching at straws here, but one of the plusses about suffering from senile dementia is that you constantly live in the present, without conscience, guilt or shame about anything in your past. I guess it’s one of Life’s little compensations.

In normal circumstances, old age tends to sneak up on us … beginning right about the time that, trying to relate to something happening today, all we can think or talk about is incidents from our youth. Inevitably others notice the syndrome before we do – anyone with kids over the age of fifteen will know what I mean – and the worst part is that nobody bothers to inform you for at least a decade afterwards, for fear of causing offence.

Although in most walks of Life people tend to feel threatened by emerging new talent, a sure sign of real class is a willingness to support and encourage those coming after you. One of the highlights of my musical career was when I wrote to congratulate a young whippersnapper called Bruce Springsteen upon the release of his 1984 album Born In The USA … and boy, hasn’t the kid done good since then?

Given my ruminations upon the dangers of looking backwards this morning, I looked out the CD from the back of my cupboard before coming to the PC, just to play the bouncy anthem Glory Days track, which covers the same ground nearly as well as I could. Here are the lyrics to the first and last verses:

I had a friend was a big baseball player
back in high school
He could throw that speedball by you
Make you look like a fool boy
Saw him the other night at this roadside bar
I was walking in, he was walking out
We went back inside sat down had a few drinks
but all he kept talking about was

Chorus:

Glory days well they’ll pass you by
Glory days in the wink of a young girl’s eye
Glory days, glory days
…

[last verse]:

Now I think I’m going down to the well tonight
and I’m going to drink till I get my fill
And I hope when I get old I don’t sit around thinking about it
but I probably will
Yeah, just sitting back trying to recapture
a little of the glory of, well time slips away
and leaves you with nothing mister but
boring stories of glory days

Chorus (repeat twice)

Today a new month begins, as does another new fitness campaign.

At the moment I can foresee only one obstacle standing in the way of me being considered for a starting position in the Harlequins XV to play in the London Double Header against Wasps at Twickenham Stadium on Saturday. It is that almost twelve months ago now, bitterly disappointed by the spectators’ match-day experience, I wrote to the RFU Chairman Francis Baron announcing that I was never going to visit the venue again.