I have just finished reading a book called “NO! I Don’t Want to Join a Book Club – A diary of growing old disgracefully.”
I don’t think I ever have ever read a book that depressed me more.
It starts off okay. Our protagonist once ‘slept with a Beatle’. Cool. My era. Sadly I never slept with one but I did once speak to one on the phone. It was ????. Not John, Paul or Ringo. The other one. S**t! I’m having a senior moment.
The author is now 60 and retired. She does not want to join a book club. You may have gathered that.
She has ‘watery eyes’, ‘a touch of osteoarthritis’ She craves for the company of the young. There are endless chapters on how she feels when she looks in the mirror. She describes how, once upon a time, she would put on her tights, balancing on one foot. Now she ‘rolls back like a hedgehog , legs waggling in the air’.
Okay. I go with this stuff. It’s when she starts on what is acceptable for the over sixties to wear I start getting tense. No trousers, and never, never, ‘stone coloured trainers’. Actually I don’t recall ever seeing ‘stone coloured trainers’. But obviously they are a big no no in her life. She has no time for scarves of any description. Says they are simply there to cover scraggy, tortoise like necks. I happen to agree with her here. Unfortunately my entire wardrobe consists of trousers and trainers (Not stone coloured). Happily I have few scarves and those I have relate purely to icy winds.
Whatever. She writes well (this is a best seller, presumably). And depending on your sense of humour, she is funny.
Half way through the book her son produces a grandchild for her. And that’s it. Apart from her endless friends either dieing from cancer, or imagining they are dieing of cancer, she goes soft in the head. Obsessed. I have no problem with grandchildren, but they sure as hell are not the be all and end all. Been there. Done that.
This wretched little book has done more to make me aware of my age than anything else. I awoke with some surprise this morning, having expected to die over night from dozens of ailments I have never even thought of.
“Growing old disgracefully???” Sweetie, I have news for you. You know nothing.