Fifty Years Old today, 50 what?

One of my long time heroes Paul Weller sang the lyric in 'When You're Young' that "I'm 21 and the lights are going out".

This does not show up in any of the actual and many listings of the wording but for those with a vinyl 45rpm, known as a single to those of my generation, you can clearly hear him lament this fearful thought a few seconds before the stylus courses out of the record grooves into that smooth part just within the perforated centre. It is subversive yet striking.

I am not sure when Paul Weller wrote the song but it is evident that he was of relatively young years and the prospect of reaching 21 was clearly something he was not looking forward to.

I can empathise with his feelings and no more so than having attained, today, the ripe old age of 50 years.

The watershed of age in my mind was always 30 and I accepted it willingly and wholeheartedly because it represented a momentous period in my life at the time. I had just taken the plunge into self employment and was a husband and proud father of two girls, notwithstanding a couple of house moves and a relocation to another, although not too distant, area.

This momentous birthday was celebrated in the best possible way, amongst friends and with a live show by Black Lace, them of Agadoo, Superman and Do the Conga fame. Heady and evocative times indeed.

Having reached 50 and in , although I admit it myself, reasonable fettle I have reflected on what advice I would give to the younger me, the person that I perceived myself to be at Paul Weller's doomsday age of 21 years old.

It was 1984.

A date which was greatly anticipated for all of its Orwellian overtones but was actually a bit of a let down.

I celebrated what used to be the old coming of age and the time to collect the key of the door with a warmed up Fray Bentos Steak and Kidney Pie in my bedsit room which was my home during a year's secondment out of college in the real world of work.

It was a lonely existence, a bit like a monastic life apart from getting out a lot on my racing bike and eating a lot of Fray Bentos canned products.

I did not, I admit, make much of an effort to make any friends to alleviate a feeling of isolation in a strange city.

My evenings, when not using a tin opener and oven glove were spent reading, listening to the radio and maintaining my bike which also lived in my cramped quarters. Sad or what?

With the luxury of hindsight and a further 29 years of experience what counsel would I convey to help in the years ahead.

The first bit of guidance would be to be a bit more confident as I was and perhaps still am a bit slow at coming forward. I am not advocating a noisy, bullshit baffles brains type of confidence but just a bit of self assuredness especially when dealing with other people.

Learning to drive a bit earlier would have been helpful as I was left behind compared with my contemporaries with the attachment of a low priority on this essential skill. This was part my own doing and partly down to resources as I was an impoverished student.

Further advice would be to develop more ability in domestic chores. I cooked for myself at age 21 but again, if Fray Bentos did not have it as an easy cook dish I was not interested. I had been a bit adventurous with Ox Liver, Lentils and sausages poached in milk in my student days with an enthusiastic bunch of housemates but when living on my own I became lazy and complacent.

I did need a good diet what with all of my cycling and looking back do not really understand how I survived without falling prone to scurvy or malnutrition.

Having a good and modern haircut would have helped me socially in 1984 but I stuck with a floppy, fringeless look and with seasonal sideburns (now very au fait through the prominence of Bradley Wiggins) but in retrospect a bit , no very naff.

A degree of sophistication would have been helpful to my 21 year old persona and as a way to meet and talk to girls of my own age. As it was my only interaction with the opposite sex was when eating a packet of Wotsits and a shop bought sandwich with the senior ladies who worked in the office where I was serving my year out. We would look forward to watching and discussing the storylines in the TV soap 'Take the High Road' about Scottish people in a small lochside community.

In terms of fashion I was a bit of a throwback. As now, I spent most of my waking hours in the working week in a suit. Other attire was pyjamas or jeans and a C&A bought jumper. 1984 was a defining year otherwise in fashion with big statement making T shirts, baggy trousers, dungarees, part shaved heads and pumps with no socks. I was miles away from this.

I would encourage the young, immature me to think about saving money for the future and take some responsibility for my old age.

I recall that my wisest action at 21 years old was renting a colour TV from Rediffusion for my parents house for when I returned there just about every weekend.

There is no substitute for simple life experience to form backbone and character. I am not talking about being carefree and reckless but simply being attuned to what is going on in the surrounding world. I was none of these things and have no idea how I have reached 50 years old with some semblance of understanding and empathy with other human beings.

At 21 I was immature and stupid. I would not however change those traits at all because they have contributed to what I consider to be my current perspective on life of humour and not taking myself too seriously. Nothing changed then at all in the ensuing 29 years. Perfection.