Growing old humorously

I don’t really think of myself as old yet, but it won’t be long before I have to. I am certainly no longer young, and “middle-aged” is such a dreadfully bourgeois term. My youngest child is now over 16 and should therefore be considered an adult in most regards, my eldest is thinking of buying a house. These things alone can make one feel the time that has passed.

As for growing old, my awful sense of humour hasn’t changed much over the years, I still love teasing the wife and kids, I love jokes but can no longer remember them. I enjoy quirky or humorous stories and these I can often remember. Amongst my favourites stories are those about one of my favourite conductors, Sir Thomas Beecham. Beecham’s recordings are wonderful, most especially those made of live performances. They always have life and energy.

The stories are many and I was delighted to add to them on the recent master course. I asked Maestro Panula whether he had ever seen Beecham conduct and got an affirmative answer, “very good”. Panula then smiled and recalled a Beecham story that was new to me. Beecham came to Helsinki on many occasions to conduct the works of Sibelius and others, but had trouble sleeping through the very light evenings. After a particularly bad night he was taking an orchestral rehearsal and whilst continuing to conduct dived into his bag which was below his stand and started rummaging around in it. After a few moments he brought out a sandwich and started to eat it, whilst continuing to conduct! This would be quite unheard of now, and whilst it may seem of little consequence to a non-musician, to a conductor it is quirky beyond belief.

One of the advantages of getting older is that less is expected of you and to some extent you expect less of yourself. If one of the kids volunteers to do something energetic on my behalf, I let them. If they sort something out for me because they think I am tired and a bit gaga, so be it.

The other day I received an “are you there” email from a daughter who shall remain numberless. Since we are both attached to mail servers, emails are delivered more or less instantly. We often have conversations via email. After a few moments the phone went, it was my turn to write something in the email conversation but I answered the phone anyway. It was the same numberless daughter I was having the email conversation with. I asked her to hold for a moment and typed into my computer’s email client “Speaking on the phone to someone now, won’t be a minute.” and sent it. We then had a phone conversation about something so important that I have completely forgotten what (age playing its part again perhaps?). After hanging up I resumed the email conversation with “Off the phone now. What’s up?”. This had the delightful effect of getting the numberless daughter worried about whether I had realised that the email conversation and the phone conversation were with the same person, namely her. Eventually I had to give in and admit that I was teasing her but she remains concerned that I am getting old and confused.

Getting old is going to be fun, if only a bit.