Watched a thing the other day that opened my eyes. Lecturer in some university in front of a seminar about equality. A student stood up and said that it was so unfair that the “elderly” all had nice cars ,nice houses and money in the bank yet the young people had nothing. His response was epic he said.
Ok you can have my fancy car you can have my fancy house you can every penny I have and all I want from you is to let me be your age and you be be mine. Old age comes with a heavy price. The student sat down silent.
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Rooting through a drawer today and found a photo from Dover docks as I ran to the middle east. 25 years old dark beard and tash long curly hair. Wondered who the hell it was.
1980 and looked like a Mexican bandito.
Was me and sort of remembered how good it was to be alive then.
Would give every day I got left to just wake up one morning and feel as alive as I did on that long ago day.
Where did it go?
Youth really is wasted on the young.
Get it right next time I hope.
It would be interesting to find out how ‘old’ the ‘student’ was.
Obviously not working from age 16 and even then I was never as rich as my parents’ generation having entered the work place just as the country entered it’s post industrialised, service sector based, economic experiment which failed spectacularly.
If they want a wage they have to work for it in useful productive industries.But these workshy scroungers prefer to spend the working week living a semi retired lifestyle engaged in various job avoidance scams like claiming student loans into their mid 20’s which they have no intention of paying back.Then these Bolsheviks intend to steal the wealth belonging to and earn’t by others.
I really get that and I do remember what it felt like to be vibrant and alive and starting the truck for the next leg to the Middle East. But it works both ways. I remember climbing up the front of the tilt to lace up the descending tapes, bracing myself against the back of the cab. It was raining and I slipped and fell on my back onto the catwalk, narrowly missing all those nasty air connections. I lay on the catwalk with the rain washing over my face thinking, ‘What the zb I am doing here? I could be at home, retired making a nice hot cup of tea and curling up with a book in front of the fire.’
It’s true.Youth is wasted on the young.I wish I could lose a few years and drop my blue badge in the bin…I have a grandson age 21 who refuses to do anything which involves dirty hands or perspiration.My neighbour has 2 sons aged 45 to 50 who have never done a stroke of paid work in their lives,and a grandson who spends more time in prison than at home.
Youth is wasted on the young who don’t live active, happy and fulfilled lives putting something into life rather than expecting to get something out of it. There are plenty of youngsters who don’t fall into the categories you mention. I was one of them!
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