Pressed the wrong button, couldn’t actually find the button, not known what the right order was, arrived and “everyone” wasn’t wearing a tie, or a jacket, or shoes closed at the heel and toe? And not really cared?

You quite like making things work, toeing the line (sandals optional) and wearing the right kit. But hey ho. You will live. At one stage you were relevant – knew the difference between an album and a record, where the gang would be, how to run a company with 200 employees.

If you get that then this is for you.

Fossils Rock. They want to be woke, with it, on the button, in the money. Whatever. But they remember different times. Different music. Different drinks. Different dammit. When things were in code but it was their code.

Imagine going to the bank. There is a historical thesis in that sentence alone. But if you can still get to one then you of course – join the queue. This is after all Britain. In the queue are largely people of your age. Nobody else goes to a bank unless it is to rob it. After 15 minutes in the queue you reach the cashier. He is 20. He directs you to his 15 year old assistant. The child (who does in fact wear a tie) takes you to a machine. Over it is a large brightly coloured sign. Which you had ignored. Saying: PAY IN HERE. AVOID QUEUES. The child says it will show you how to fill in the paying in slip (really how lovely, we had those after the war). At this point you bridle slightly. That bit you can do. And the child then explains that if you have filled in the slip you can put it with the cheque (how quaint – imagine) into the slot and it will be paid into your account in 2-5 working days. No need to queue. And would you like a leaflet about on line banking? You and the other person (fossil) who wrote that cheque.

Happily, you explain you on line bank already. The child in the tie has a very expressive face. And eyes that are kind. If the face and eyes could speak they would say – so why are you here fossil. But it has been on a course and it, and it’s eyes, don’t say any of this.

You leave without a shred of dignity or any way of imparting that you ran a company with a million dollar turnover, employed 75 people and brought up a family before the internet.

You ring a friend – you still do that. When you say:

I feel like such a fossil.

They quietly whisper:


A stirring happens – in your soul (behind your eyes where you disguise your thoughts from others), and you think: finally, a group I could belong to.

To be continued…..