So I took my own advice and headed out into the afternoon sunshine. It’s been unseasonably warm in soon to be BREXIT Britain, perhaps as a result of some beneficial trade deal our Queen of the Daleks has struck up with the Cybermen. Anyway, things were worse during the Time-Lord Wars so I musn’t complain.
As is the case these days, there were quite a few cyclists out enjoying the freedom afforded to them by time-travelling two-wheeled transport devices. Bikes make you young. They don’t just get you fit, they take you back to your childhood and allow you to play out for as long as you want. That’s probably why most enthusiasts are men of a certain age who long to be boys again.
On Saturday I had the pleasure of going out for a decent ride with a neighbour. We are roughly of the same age, so we have cultural touchstones. He is planning to retire towards the end of the year whilst I have decided to do another sixty years of hard labour.
We were talking about this as we cycled along and he told me that both he and his wife are going to empty out their bucket-list of dreams and fulfil them within the next ten years. Beyond that, he thinks they’ll be too old for all the travel. I don’t fully agree, but then it’s not my life.
What we did agree upon was that being our age meant that we were essentially free. All the institutional ideology about work being good for the soul no longer applies. We have survived this far and what is ahead is virgin territory, completely untravelled. It’s a land of opportunity.
And that’s it folks! The bike has come to the rescue again. No evil Dalek is going to destroy my life.