Posts Tagged ‘Government’

A peculiar economy and Otto.

August 19, 2019

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“In the past two weeks the proliferation of negative-yielding bonds has erupted — 30 per cent of the global, tradeable bond universe is being sold with a guaranteed loss attached to the coupon.”

I understand the basics of adding and subtracting of numbers but in that little sentence above, a whole new world is threatening our survival. We know that when it rains and we stand outside we will get wet. Perhaps our survival will be enhanced when standing in the rain. Who knows?

https://www.abc.net.au/news/2019-08-19/forget-inverted-yield-curve-time-for-negative-yielding-debt/11425960

We are faced with negative yields on our savings. It means that instead of earning interest from the banks on our money we might have to pay the bank in holding our money. We will be borrowing money that promises us that we not only don’t have to pay interest  over the term we borrow money, but that we actually owe less money than the original amount, at the end of the term. To put it simply; we borrow let’s say $10 000.- over ten years. We do not pay any interest on the borrowing, and at the end of the ten years we pay back less than the $10 000.-

We are getting a miniscule pension from the Australian Government as a result of having some savings which are ‘deemed’ to earn some interest. However, try as I might, at the moment long term interests is almost zero. This results in us eating up our savings. So far, no problem. You can’t take it with you to that place beyond our final journey. The difficulty is figuring out the number of years one might still have ahead and then divide the savings by the number of years that one can still breath upon ahead with some dignity, and hopefully without getting bashed-up in some ‘Aged-Care’ home by one’s own slippers or shoes.

This might entail a risk whereby an underestimation of the number of years ahead could involve a rather financial painful end. If one figures, lets say another ten years or less, and divvy the savings by ten, no problem. But what about the other way, and one languishes for another fifteen years? What then? The financial plan was spread over ten years and not fifteen.

I have a good example by my good friend Otto. Otto is now ninety. I never expected him to reach that age. He wasn’t interested in exercise or strenuous physical activities. He never kicked a ball, did summersaults or hung from crossbars. He walked slowly and deliberately, and with care. Otto liked his food but ate well, avoided fat, sugar and salty food. He was Dutch, born in Indonesia which gave him his dietary habits and a love for vegetables. He also had a rather eccentric habit of drinking lots of water mixed with some cider vinegar.

Two months ago, Otto caught a bad flu and was hospitalised. After he fought off the virus and became reasonably well, it was apparent that Otto could not live independent anymore. He owned his own place but wasn’t mobile enough to look after himself.  His younger sister who looked after him during Otto’s times of need, told the hospital she no longer could. Otto now lives in a retirement home. He had to pay $200.000.- upfront for a space and his pension is just short of $75 weekly which pays for his main keep. This money will be deducted when his place gets sold. He shares his room with another inmate.

I spoke to his brother, Roderick, and in conversation I marvelled how Otto managed to get to his 90th year despite his seemingly corpulent figure and his dislike for any physical activity. His answer left me somewhat flummoxed. ‘ Yes, Gerard, Roderick said;” “but he never married like we all did’! ‘We brought up children,  had a marriage, a wife and all, and Otto never had that kind of worry.’ No wonder Otto lived so long. he seemed to imply!

Anyway, that’s how it goes, does it not? My worry is not the future for our grandchildren of negative monetary returns, but a world with a change of climate making the world uninhabitable.

That would be a much worse outcome.

Two broken arms and a concrete raised drive-way.

June 29, 2019

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The raised concrete driveway where Helvi stumbled.

People might have wondered why the treats from Oosterman have been a bit sluggish lately. It is not that the words have disappeared or become obstinately peevish through ageing or elderdom, but more a result of a stumble that Helvi took last Wednesday at about the time I was bending over to my last bowling at the Moss-Vale Returned Soldiers Club here in New South Wales’ Highlands.

Helvi had, as has become a daily routine but always together decided, to take our Jack Russell, Milo, for a walk. This time though she thought of doing the walk by herself. The day was very nice with enough chill in the air to wear her padded short coat, sturdy pants, and her knitted beanie. Half way and about a couple of hundred metres from home she took a bad stumble over a raised driveway that had recently been built over the footpath to the main road. As she had not slept all that wonderful the night before which had tired her, she wasn’t looking down to notice the driveway not being level with the grassy verge and stumbled heavily onto this concrete driveway.

It took her at least twenty minutes to get upright. When one is almost an ‘elderly nudging Octogenarian’ to get upright from a horizontal position on a flat concrete surface can be quite  challenging. Milo was sweetly sitting next to her, still tied on his lead  and around Helvi’s hand. Cars drove by but no one stopped. Helvi thought, as is her wont to always think good of people,  that the passing cars did not notice her, or that they thought she was merely frolicking with her dog.  I am more sceptical, and can’t see how an elderly lady would sit on the concrete flat down on her back frolicking! Why did no one stop?

She managed to walk home where a neighbour noticed she was in severe pain and decided to open the door for her. Helvi’s pain was excruciating and could not turn the key. The neighbour called an ambulance and she was taken to the local hospital almost within cooee distance of our home. What foresight to have chosen our home so close, not to one, but two hospitals! My darling Helvi was in so much pain and could not contact me as the neighbour called me on Helvi’s phone number and not mine. After arriving back home I immediately went to the hospital where Helvi was waiting in a chair for X-rays to be taken of her arms. It turned out both are fractured.

She is now in Hospital with both arms in plaster. She hardly ever complains of pain but when she does it is serious. Her care is now needed for 24/24 hrs for the time till her arms are healed and out of plaster. One arm is bad but two? We are promised to get a care plan from the public hospital but we have been advised to shop around and try Baptist Care who are supposed to be good. Last year our Governments ‘aged- care’ package when Helvi was getting chemo therapy came to nothing at all. So… we wait for advice, but will need help.

I am getting advice on what to do but am brushing up on my Florence Nightingale nursing skills and get ready to do my best to care for Helvi as good as I can. We have to get the bathroom modified and lots of other things. I am good at cooking, washing, vacuuming but that is nothing compared what might need to be achieved, what matters are the personal care and keeping Helvi happy.

In the meantime I have to take some action over that raised driveway. Surely that doesn’t comply with safety! I have to go to council next. Never a moment of peaceful retirement, is there?

And now for the good news!

December 10, 2018
https://www.sbs.com.au/news/torture-crimes-against-humanity-class-action-for-nauru-manus-asylum-seekers-launched
It could not get any better. A bumper Christmas coming your way.The polls have deepened the gap between the LNP and Labor, with the opposition now polishing their victory speeches after the election.  On top of all that my feverish hope that one day this dreadful government would be taken to court for having committed crimes against humanity, now a reality. It has come to it. Our prayers answered.
True, it will not be on the scale of the Nuremberg trials but at least it will show the world that no matter how pretentious a government is, you can’t get away with committing crimes against people that have done no more than asking for asylum.
At this point it might be worthwhile pointing out that the alleged crimes against humanity (refugee’s children and their parents) would never have happened if only Australia had a ‘Bill of Rights.’
I am perplexed that Australia is the only country without a Bill of Rights.

“A non-profit law firm has launched two class actions in the High Court on behalf of the roughly 1,200 remaining refugees and asylum seekers in offshore processing centres on Manus Island and Nauru.

 

The case will be brought against the Commonwealth of Australia, rather than the Home Affairs Department or the minister specifically.

 

The group will claim they have been subjected to “torture, crimes against humanity and the intentional infliction of harm by the Australian government,”

 

 

Aged Care.

September 16, 2018
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An old man in Sydney

Hold onto your seatbelts folks, it’s going to be a rough ride. This Monday a TV programme on ABC 4 Corners will feature the state of Australia’s Aged Care. It will be broadcast in two sessions. Something to look forward to during the following Monday evening as well. The Government getting wind of this program, decided to now have a Royal Commission into aged care. Royal Commissions are made to quieten down things.  It shows the Government ‘doing’ something. We sometime get a bit restless and there is nothing like a Royal Commission for the Government to subdue us into passive acceptance of whatever might be happening.

Aged care has always been the weedy neglected garden of few countries, including Australia. If you survived the years of receiving the miserable pension, you have been well warmed up for the end of it all in a retirement village. Many of you would have seen the footage of several videos on TV whereby elderly aged-care recipients were bashed up or assaulted.  The videos were a result of family members’ concern that often their elderly parents showed repeated bruising or festering wounds. A daughter or son would install a secret camera hoping to catch the assault and have it as proof. In many cases it showed assaults taking place. Police took action and a paddy wagon was shown whereby the nurse was led into. That’s just one case where he was caught.

How often does this happen? I can’t say I look forward to that kind of journey.  If it happens I will not keep any slippers near my bed or other implements that might get used as weapons to attack me. Certainly not hard cover books, magazines, hard fruit, coconuts. Just imagine getting hit over the head by a copy ‘Of Human Bondage.’

It is more a reason to stay well away from nursing homes no matter how well they advertise themselves. I don’t believe footage of an elderly retiree around the communal aged care home ‘The Setting Sun’,  sipping a chardonnay while swirling around with a svelte 89 year old. The elderly gent is more likely to get bashed up by his own slippers as shown in one video where an enraged nurse hoed into the defenceless old man.

It’s not getting any easier. Is it?

The dismal round trip to Centre-link.(unemployment office)

April 28, 2018

IMG_0046the fuchia

The Fuchsia and Cyclamen giving us joy; just like that!

Some time ago we were kicked out of the Australian aged pension. There isn’t a universal aged pension here, but instead a pension only for those that have assets and income below a certain amount. It is called ‘deeming’. One is deemed to have less than what is regarded as acceptable to live in comfort in old age. Only then people get a pension so small one needs a torch to find it. Coming from a culture where pensions are a right for everyone, rich or poor and not a ‘hand-out’, this has always been a thorn in my side, no matter how often I eat meat pies or watch the Melbourne Cup.

We grew up rich in a frugal culture with nothing wasted.   That’s why all our three adult children were helped by us with an original deposit enabling them to buy their own places. That is the reward for not wasting and squandering. Squandering is easily done. Just look around the number of young people walking while ‘downloading’, either electronica or huge burgers with Coke. One can almost hear the cash registers at the Telcos and Dominoes running red-hot.  We hoped our example would set a standard but I am not sure young people really understand it.

The not squandering money stood us in good stead but the Government recently used it to not  pay pensions and instead now rely on the old to spend up the hard earned savings and then hopefully cark it before they are so poor they might just beg for the miserly and dismal pension from the Government’s tight wadded fists. They prefer to give away billions to large corporations in tax concessions so that they can whoop it up in Lichtenstein or the Cayman Isles.

Anyway, with this and that, our savings have now fallen below the amount whereby it might just be possible to creep back into the Australian Pension. Hence our walk, cap in hand, to The Centre-Link office. Centre-Link now is he Australian Federal Governmental Hub whereby all social welfare is handled, from child endowments to unemployment income (‘the dole’, what a dreadful demeaning expression!)  single parents subsidies and the Old Age pension and much more as well.

You know, something dreadful is forever happening here at Centre-link. One sometimes see the police trying to calm down a person driven to insanity. No wonder. The grey-blue fluorescent lights saps the spirit immediately on entering. There is just nowhere to rest your eyes.  There are painted steps on the carpet which one has to follow. It leads you to a battery of computers.  This in an attempt to foster self reliance in doing all the complicated and tortuous paperwork. One is expected to join ‘MY-GOV’ and follow all the prompts to its destination whereby, hopefully one receives whatever benefit is asked for.

Even joining the MY-GOV website is way too difficult and especially the elderly give up. What, with creating e-mail addresses, passwords and a host of identification proof. The atmosphere not only effects the clients but also the staff. It is all so grey and doomed. A ghoulish blanket settles over everybody within minutes. This is a Dracula snooping around in need of a blood top-up exercise.

We can’t wait to get out of the place. I did manage to fill in all the questions, even uploading all the bank statements and withdrawals, the drivers license, my passport and rate notices, proof of citizenship, so much more.  I did the same for Helvi. It doesn’t matter that she is my wife and that all banking, income is shared. This extra punishment is demanded. And of course, all that information they already have from earlier times.

We now can’t wait to go to our radiation hospital treatments, get a needed spiritual lift. Or go home and look at the garden.

I was so determined to get above it all.  I’ll seek council through the Fuchsias and Cyclamen instead.

Our ‘own’ home.

May 26, 2017

When we say we own our own home it means just that. We own the title to our home. This means we can sell it, and profit/lose from it. We too bought our own home with our own earned money. Years ago, it used to mean that you had a roof over your head and ‘owning’ had a different meaning. Many people would probably add that owning own home is one of their best investments. I remember being swept up in Australia after our arrival, whereby ownership of home was seen as a main goal. A dream.  It is still looked upon as a major achievement in life. During the nineteen fifties till now,  urgings by many to strife for home ownership reached almost religious proportions. Half the newspapers used to consist of advertisements for buying and selling homes.

People gathered around the garlic- prawns getting grilled on wood- barbeques and spoke of magic real estate deals. Legendary tales were told by jolly men about unimaginable profits  made on selling properties that had sky-rocketed to much higher prices. Parties would rocket as well by  tales of real estate with empty two litre casks of Coolabah-chardonnay littering next morning  with redolent empty prawn shells. If you let it be known you were an ‘own homer’ your status gained enormous. Women would flock around, easy to date. They too were drawn to Homer.

My dad had much trouble understanding this. In Holland at that time ( 1956) owning own home was unheard of and totally unnecessary. Housing was supplied by Councils or Governments and generally leased for life. Even today home ownership in Holland is about 50% of the adult population. There was a period, compliments of WW2 and carpet-bombings, that an acute shortage existed of available housing. Thanks to the US generous Marshall Plan that Europe was given after the war the housing shortage was soon overcome.  Even so, tens of thousands were drawn to migrate to other shores, especially Canada and Australia. One of the attractions that were being dangled before future migrants’ eyes was the prospect of own home on own block with own bathroom in far away countries. Australia was magic. Colour footage was shown of ‘home owners standing on own lawn in front of own house.’ Those white picket fences, the gloriousness of it all.

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My parents with ‘own home.’

My mother was especially attracted to own bathroom. Back in Holland we had a galvanised tub with handles to bathe in. My mother would boil water on a gas stove. I was lucky  being the second eldest and by and large enjoyed a nice warm bath. However my brother Adrian who was nr 5 in the line of ascendency had tepid and scungy greasy well used water. That’s how it was.

Now the real estate has been so magically successful that hardly anyone can afford it. Many flock to the major cities. That’s why cities are formed. The majority like living in close proximity of each other. The prices are astronomical. A million dollars gets you a bare two bedroom un-renovated almost derelict cottage or a liveable home-unit. Most young couples have given up.

The dream is now a nightmare.

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The ‘Bespoke’ permanent Australian residency test

April 26, 2017
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Bottle

With our daughter being on the ‘cusp’ of buying a three bedroom unit closer to Sydney town, I was intrigued by a new word that seems to have caught the world by storm. It is the word ‘BESPOKE.’ Readers might well remember we were all on the edge of our seats some years ago, when our Government was urging their ministers to find  ‘new paradigms’. This soon spilled over to the voters. As is the wont of most Governments, the task and responsibility of finding the new paradigms was shifted to us. It wasn’t finding just any old paradigm, no it had to be the latest version. It made us all a bit nervous at first, but soon put shoulders under the task looking for our special new paradigm.

During or perhaps shortly after those revelational urgings many also took to forever being on the ‘cusp’ of something. It did not really matter what it was. As long as we were on the ‘cusp’ of something we were on solid ground. Helvi and I used to sit around sipping our coffee while looking for new paradigms, and hovering around being on the ‘cusp’ of something or other. I remember distinctly being on the cusp of buying our new lithium battery powered cordless vacuum cleaner an hour or so before we actually took off to buy one. We deliberately waited in order to prove our ‘cusping.’ Of course, naming our newly acquired vacuum machine a new paradigm might be pushing credibility a bit too far.

Getting back to the business of ‘bespoke’. It all came about when reading the Real Estate Agents’ lofty appraisal of trying to sell this home-unit to our daughter. They provided a lengthy list of the usual mouth watering morsels to attract the potential and often gullible buyer. It had three bedrooms, all with blinds and insect screens, a ‘media’ room and ‘European’ appliances. The word European is like honey to those on the hunt for living space.  It seems at odds with our Prime Minister’s urging us to stand firm on our national identity and hail all that is uniquely Australian. Are we all at risk of losing our permanent residency status if we buy a European stove?

But, what really floored me was that the European 5 burner cooktop had a ‘bespoke’ wok. A bespoke wok? Of course some decades ago Dad was most circumspect of real estate agents. Why are they called ‘real’ he mused, while blowing out his Douwe Egbert’s tobacco infused ringlets of smoke. ‘Infused’ is now on the wane, folks. We are getting some respite. You can all take a rest. None too late. It is hard work keeping up.

Nice dad, he was. I remember him well. He would never look for paradigms or bespoke woks.

 

 

The Mobility Scooter looms for millions.

October 9, 2016

41yjSAQeq1L__SX331_BO1,204,203,200_ oosterman treats

You know that when the birth rate drops below replacements, we oldies are all going to suffer. Even Catholic Italy, which used to pride itself on breeding like rabbits are now not replacing its citizens fast enough to replace the dying. In Australia we still have a healthy intake of migrants, but even here the ageing population is putting a strain on almost all services. I wonder who will visit me when placed in a care-home? In Holland they have already introduced a form of visiting the elderly by harnessing school kids in volunteering to visit the lonely oldies staring wishfully behind their ‘updated’ aged-care windows. I am not sure I would welcome a know-all eleven year old to visit me. It could be boring.

In Holland too, they now try and ‘update’ elderly care which in many cases means less staff and heightening the bar for entry into an ‘aged care facility.’ One has almost has to have one foot in the grave or half-way into the crematorium-oven before a place might be found into an old age home. By that stage, most elderly have exhausted their savings and the kids inheritance. Fat chance now of cranky kids visiting Grandpa sipping his weak tea! This is why more and more old people are encouraged to keep going without needing ‘updated care’ in the horrors of an Anglican ‘Eventide’ facility.

I suppose, my own ‘Government initiated Health Assessment’ is one effort to keep me on my toes as long as possible. Strange, that Helvi has not received that request! Perhaps women stay healthy longer? This explains that old age homes feature mainly women. It must be very challenging for an old man to be surrounded by mainly elderly women and their never ending talk of ailments, the weather or food. 😉 Smiley!

One of the advances made in keeping us mobile is not just to keep on walking but also the availability of the mobility scooter. More and more seem to prop up. I believe one has to be in need of one of those before one can get one. Are they licensed or does one need to get a test done? With many an elderly person slowing down and reacting more slowly, I wonder if accidents occur? With two of those coming from opposing directions will the footpaths need widening. What about in super-markets? Do they fit in between the turnstiles. What about inside the shops? Will the lane between Toilet Paper and Asian Food facilitate the mobility scooter. I have witnessed a local woman parking her mobility scooter at the local hospital, and seemingly quite sprightly, walk up some stairs to enter and possibly visit a sick friend.

In the local Australia NRMA ( Road and Motorist) organisation’s magazine a bewildering assortment of the Mobility Scooters are now advertised. Some come with shopping bags, either in front or stowage opportunity below the seat. It shows turning circles and tip-over ratings. I noticed a local man happily scooting along while puffing away on his cigarette. I wonder if his smoking has caused the need for his mobility scooter. Did he develop diabetes and did he get his toes amputated as a result? Apart from smoking I noticed him taking photos around the place. It is an admirable way of ageing while keeping on his toes!

We still are walking each day. No need to think of a scooter. It will come about that walking will get less. I do believe that road rules will have been introduced for those mobility scooters by then. What about parking those scooters. Imagine the queues at shopping centres? Will there be incidents of Mobility Scooter rage? I can hardly imagine special ‘invalid parking’ spaces for those scooters. There will be millions of them!

It makes one wonder.

Senior moments of Australia steeped in political morass.

July 5, 2016

photoThe eight weeks of electioneering in Australia had finally come to an end. The voting had finished at 6pm on the second of July. The counting had started right on cue at all the scrutineering posts. Helvi and I had settled down on the claret coloured settee. Milo had been fed. The wine decanted and breathing heavily. It was all-ready-set-and-go. The TV was switched on soon followed by the sound bar. It is one of those electrifying evenings that one might still talk about for years to come. Forget about Dr Who or God of Thrones. Election night hasn’t been missed for at least thirty years.

The Government funded advertisement free TV station, the ABC, has always been our favoured channel to watch. As the early figures started to come in we were heartened by a swing towards the left. We are left of the centre but not so left as to drop into the stormwater drain of rioting unions or brick throwing bakers. That might be so because of our age. Our brick throwing days are over. If anything could still be thrown it would be a marsh-mellow. We do believe that the rich get smoked salmon and the poor mainly Salvation Army soup. The gap is increasing and the people getting restless.

As the evening wore on and with the wine taking its effect, the two person party in our household was swinging. All caution to the wind. The power of our multi millionaire Prime Minister was drooping. Seat by seat Labor was winning at the expense of the Liberal & Nationals. At the same time it also became clear that the Duopoly of both major parties was being curtailed. Both parties were losing out on the primary vote which went to a bewildering number of smaller parties. Pauline Hanson’s ‘One Nation Party’ did a Lazarus after almost twenty years in the never never wilderness. She sucked in the anti-immigration, anti Muslim, and anti halal certification vote. She made sure that at the election barbeques around her area, all her admiring xenophobes were provided with non-halal sausages. Her prime attraction for voters was to pass a law that would insist on CCTV cameras be installed in all mosques.

At the end of the evening ( and it was now 1.30am) the experts on elections announced the most likely scenario would be another ‘hung government.’ This election was supposed to be to strengthen the Government of the LNP PM’s Malcolm Turnbull grip on the future of Australia. It might take days if not weeks to get a final result. It is likely, another election will be held before Christmas. The reflections by Mr and Mrs Oosterman are, that our PM just did not follow up on the image that we had of an innovative progressive leader. He did not pass legislation on the SSM that the nation overwhelmingly wanted, and instead went for a $150 million plebiscite at the end of this year. The other promise of lowering taxation for businesses at the expense of health and education was also seen as a hand out to the ‘big-end’ of town.

Australia is now faced with uncertainty, yet life goes on. We had a terrific evening. The sun came up, darkness lifted. At least, the LNP are now in a downward spiral. Exciting times ahead. I do hope that the prospects for the refugees on Nauru and Manus Islands will get resolved soon.

Sustainable future by remaining upright.

June 2, 2016

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The man in the park looked wishfully at his surroundings. It had just rained and the trees were not only shedding the last of the leaves but also heavy drops of water. The creek was running fast, yet the ducks had no trouble paddling upstream. No doubt the first of the eggs had been laid. The drakes were on guard, and only the reeds knew where they were hidden.

I recognized the man and his grey little dog. Both are regular walkers. He might know me too but I am unsure. Perhaps he remembers a few years ago when he had slipped in the wet grass, and was struggling to get upright again? There isn’t a lot of dignity in having reached a stage in getting older, when being upright is starting to fail. Perhaps that’s why he might prefer to remain anonymous to his sole witness. The ageing gracefully extracts a price when prostrate on wet grass with curious ducks looking on.

As I said earlier, I had noticed him before on my own walks. He walked with some difficulty. He took little steps. He once stopped and told me he walks each day. ‘I still walk for miles,’ he added proudly. People on the whole still get around, but mainly by cars. Walking is now seems the sole privilege of the old. The young drive or are being driven.

I noticed him lying on the wet sloping grass. He must have slipped and had let go of his walking stick and dog. He had trouble getting up. I asked if I could help. He did not say anything but I got him upright anyway and handed him his walking stick, and his dog with a lead. The whole procedure was then keenly watched by some ducks, and Milo our own dog. The ducks are fed regularly by other walkers, mainly mothers and young kids. The ducks must have thought it was taking some time for the old man to give them the food.

I haven’t reached the age yet of unable to get up from the prone position. But, it is strange how of late I do study old people and their ways of getting about. I keenly observe their gait. Are they using aids? Do their partners nudge them onwards, prop them up a bit, are they a bit wobbly? Do they look vague? Shops are more and more selling equipment for the elderly.

Aldi is at the very cutting-edge of elderly care. They sell everything from mobility scooters, to hydraulic toilet-seat lifters, Chrome bathroom grip holders, tri-pod walking aids, incontinence pads for the bladder-intestinal-harried sufferer. People are not shy. I noticed an elderly gentleman throwing his packet of incontinence pads, with cheerful abandonment, on the conveyer belt. I am as yet not that brave nor incontinent. But, it will happen,… eventually.

On my last medical visit, I was given a thorough check-out. I did not ask for it. It is now a Government initiative to get the old on-board. ‘You don’t suffer Alzheimer at all,’ the old doctor informed me. This was based on my ability to follow an order and fold a sheet of paper in half and put it on the floor in front of my feet. I also remembered three words; ‘chair, sea, and dog,’ after a delay of more than 3 minutes.

Amazing!