There's this thing that starts to happen when you get older. Young people look at you like you're mad. Young people who are wearing exactly what we wore when we were young. Kids, we've just learnt that baggy jeans aren't worth it. You trip over them, they get ripped, they soak up water. We've been there. It doesn't bother me. Because if these kids are lucky they too will one day be forty and eighteen-year-olds will look at them like that. Then they will know. Ageing generally doesn't bother me too much. I always remember: I'll never be this young again. I've been a bit spoiled for old people, I admit. My grandparents, certainly the pair I spent the most time with, were very politically left-leaning. They were active and engaged well into their nineties. The last few years were rough but the ninety-five years before that were pretty great. My boomer parents and their friends were/are very lefty. My mother, turning seventy-six in a few weeks, would eviscerate anyone suggesting she might in any way want to 'slow down'. So I have high expectations for older age. I often run foul of them. Whereas life can be exceptionally rough for older people and I try to remember that. While of course I have a millennial "Okay, boomer" tendency I am also #notallboomers. As I said above, many boomers I know, certainly knew as a child, were proper radicals. Also, in history, it has ever been war between the generations. This is not new. Another feeling I have, backed by zero evidence, is that especially in LGBTQ+ circles we appreciate that our elders fought and died for what we have now. My sister, on the other hand... much less chill about ageing! She gets defensive. She vacillates about dying her hair. She had a harder time turning forty than I did. For about six months either side she was wild about it. I felt a weirdness about leaving my thirties behind because they were the best of times and also the worst of times. But I didn't feel anything particular about being forty. I don't even mind going grey. I can't be bothered to dye my hair - I've not got that sort of stamina. I resent the idea that we have to or should want to. I resent when people say white hair "looks nice on men" because we've been taught it's okay for them, that's the only difference. Men are allowed to age because their worth is less tied to their physical appearance. Other than being white I've never been able to trade on my physical appearance so going grey or showing my age makes little difference. Plus I'm a stubborn and contrary bastard so telling me I ought to do something means I'm definitely not doing it. There's only one alternative to getting old. So I'm pretty happy continuing to do so. At the same time, I always remember, it's cheesy but it's true: I'll never be this young again. •