When I went shopping last week for a new outfit I
was confronted by a certain reality. In the changing cubicle - or cabinet of
reflection as it might be called, with its mirrors revealing unfamiliar side
and rear views of oneself - I saw that I was actually older than I had
imagined. Oh well, I reasoned, youth is wasted on the young anyway; and ageing
does have its perquisites. In such scraps we find consolation.
Take, for example, my last cinematic experience.
Having been seduced, by an artful trailer and a five-star review, into watching
Bone Tomahawk, my
eager anticipation was, unfortunately, soured by the event: I found the film
nonsensical and trivial. My time, I concluded, would have been better spent
watching the snow-flakes drift aimlessly across the grey cityscape through the
window of the first-floor bar. I was consoled by the fact that my ticket was at
the senior concessionary rate but, even so, we senior citizens don’t have much
time left to squander on crap films. On the other hand, a willingness to take a
punt can pay off. What counts is getting the balance right. I’ve never been a
fan of the horror-film genre but - again on the strength of recommendation - I
did catch the Iranian vampire movie A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night
and this time was delighted by the experience. This film - despite its wacky
vampire premise - tells an engrossing, multi-dimensional story and has more to
offer than most mainstream fare.
If age equals experience, then it can also foster
discernment. But take discernment to the extreme - “I know what I like and I
like what I know” - and you could be missing out. There may be things you haven’t
experienced and therefore don’t know you like - an argument which came up at
the last meeting of the Heaton Moor Jazz Appreciation Society when a discussion
of the merits of various strains of jazz led us to conclude that we should
broaden the scope of our listening. Members were invited to introduce examples
of “World Jazz”, so as
to take us consciously outside the dominant comfort zone of the USA. The
session is yet to come but there is promise of jazz from as far afield as
Norway and Ethiopia. I have long advocated this principle of exploration in
recommending radio programmes, such as Radio 3’s Late Junction and
Jazz FM’s Saturday
Night Experience, both of which present
music we may not have heard before but wish we had.
Sometimes, of course, the spirit of senior
adventure can be thwarted by external factors, such as the rapid advance of
technology. I have tried, for instance, to sell the benefits of Spotify or
Sonos to several of my contemporaries but been obliged to give up quite soon
after noticing a glazing of the eyes which denotes incomprehension. Such
failure to keep up can, given the will, be overcome but there are sometimes
physical hurdles which may not. In my
case, on the last excursion to the Whitworth Art Gallery, I had a go at a Ben Rivers installation
comprising four, 20-minute films shown in separate, temporary cinema spaces. It
may well be that the artist has something profound to convey but I am unlikely
to discover it because there are no seats, save for the occasional low-level
bench with no back support, such as might be suitable for children.
There are times when the spirit is willing but
the body is not. Even so I suggest that, in the changing cubicle of one’s mind,
it’s as well to keep glancing at those reflections of what we may have become
while we weren’t expecting it.
Nice peice Joe.
ReplyDeleteThe surprising thing about ageing, that know one told me, was that I always thought I would one day feel "grown up". Thankfully this has yet to happen. But it's the 'morning mirror' face, before it's begun to fight back against gravity for the coming day that I realise that the gap between perception and reality is becoming not so much a crack as a ravine.