Older Better Wiser

I like that the older you get the less you have to work at getting every other man and his dog to appreciate that fact. It’s like the imperceptible manner in which seasons change their leaves, over time we know it will happen and therefore we are less likely to stand in its way when

Mr T

Trust can seem so fragile. How fragile? As fragile as a single cobweb strung between the branches of two trees, or a hairline crack in glass that hasn’t shattered completely? Nothing malevolent about that I guess! Maybe, maybe not but

Listening to Quiet

I love to listen to Quiet. I have a sense at times that he’s listening right back as intently as I am to him. We’re respectful toward each other, more so now, than in the beginning when we were both young and had no

On the Dragon’s T(r)ail

Is it true then, that as we get older, we have a tendency to stuff our magical make-believe friends and creatures into chests where they lie unattended, gathering dust in some

Cream of the Crop

There’s something deeply satisfying about watching some of the ‘older’ blokes of music on centre stage. I was thinking this very thought when I was watching a performance by Cream Live at the Royal Albert Hall. The thing you notice about Eric Clapton is

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