An extra hour for contemplation

The clocks changed last night, it happened whilst I was out, drinking with an Australian friend. I've yet to understand why we do it and I am sure I read it has something to do with a war or something, WW1 perhaps, usually these weird unexplained rules and procedures have something to do with a politician's decision in war-time and it stuck.  I also learnt, whilst living in Spain, that Franco changed the time in Spain so Madrid would be in the same time-zone as his hero, Hitler, so politicians do weird things and when they make silly changes someone forgets to undo those changes and we are stuck with it, and the consequence of last night's clock change was an extra hour bed, or that is what should have happened but as I was out drinking and dancing until 3am and woke up at my normal time, the extra hour was wasted, I had 6 hours sleep and feel rough today as a consequence.

I am using the "extra" hour that isn't to contemplate and digest my thoughts from my night out last night.  It was fun to be out and socializing in Clapham, one of my favourite parts of London is always fun, but last night brought up some strange thoughts in my head. As I stood at the bar in a very crowded bar/club at 1am with my friend, I asked myself "am I too old for this?" I enjoyed the music, I didn't mind the incredibly crowded dancefloor and the constant spilling of drinks that happens in these place, these things are par for the course in a club, but as I made small talk with a very attractive young guy, it hit me, he was at least 20 years younger than me and probably talking to me to be nice, I could be wrong and I know I wasn't flirting as I am not a very good flirt but there was something in the way he talked to me, like a student talks to his teacher about an assignment.  Me and my friend met in a bar a long time ago (16 years ago) and often go out but last night it seemed we lacked the energy needed to throw ourselves headlong into it like we normally would do.  He worries about being in his 40s and lonely far from home and I worry about the same things, probably as often as he does even though my "home" is 200 miles away and his is the other side of the world.  

Being a gay man can be both amazingly liberating and very lonely in the same day, I never had a zenith of hedonism like some, so perhaps my nadir will be more like a nice retirement but it is on its way.  When I was 25 we went out every weekend, we drank, we danced, we flirted successfully and unsuccessfully (I remember some of my epic fails as well as I remember the successes), now guys that age do everything electronically.  They meet on-line, they have sex, they move on, modern gay life in the days of post gay-liberation are a virtual world, bars are emptier with us 40+ something gay men doing the same thing we did 20 years ago, albeit at a slower pace, trying to maintain our boyish looks and breathing in a little harder when a cutie passes by and trying to make small talk with the young cute guy who smiles at us and then mentally punishing ourselves for our awkwardness.  And this is no tale of woe, I am happy, I wish I had a more broad social life but I am usually as happy with a coffee and The Economist in a cafe than a beer and a disco backdrop and I think for now I am ageing well if not always gracefully. 

I am 2 weeks away from being 46 and life turned out to be both as good as I imagined it, as bad as I imaged it and far more complex then I ever dreamed it would be.

And my final comment is how awful it was this week to watch the British government sycophant itself to the Chinese in such a way. We lay ourselves prostrate in front of a dictatorship all for a few bits of investment.  Sad days.

October 25, 2015