PAUL DORIN says the secret to staying young is to live honestly… and, of course, lie about your age!

In this day and age, is 60 the new 30 and 90 the new 60? I’m okay with getting older, and I don’t need to look 35 forever.

Still, I wouldn’t mind if youth and the joys that come with it could hang around a little longer. I’m thinking positively about ageing; I just want to age well and stay healthy.

I know old age is no longer knocking; it’s standing at the door, and I’m just taking my time opening it. The secret to staying young is to live honestly… and, of course, lie about your age!

The grey hair showing is just physical evidence that I’ve learned a lot along the way.

It fascinates me that my life began with such a youthful appearance that I had to show ID to get into nightclubs well into my late twenties. Now I’m hanging on to my fifties, quietly acknowledging this new phase of life and grateful I haven’t yet reached the stage where my knees provide weather forecasts or sneezing requires a brief risk assessment.

Really, the late fifties feel a little young for all the jokes about dementia, incontinence and walkers. Speaking of incontinence, I heard a funny line the other day: a guy with an incontinence issue called the incontinence hotline, and the moment they answered, they asked if he could hold. It’s funny, just don’t wet yourself laughing.

I don’t have a curfew, so I’m often up late working or racing off to fire calls in the middle of the night, which probably doesn’t help. But I’m starting to accept that a 4pm nap now feels like a small vacation and I wake ready to go with a second wind.

As I age, my friends are ageing too, and these days I hesitate before calling them at 8pm. When they answer, my first question is: “Did I wake you?” The other interesting thing is that my friends’ kids I once watched being born and growing up are now young adults – lawyers, mechanics, electricians – and they’re the ones I turn to for advice and repairs.

I’m also watching them have kids of their own, which is a subtle but effective reminder of time passing.

I can still touch my toes if we allow a slight bend in the knees, though I know the day is coming when touching them will require surgically relocating them closer to my knees.

My flexibility hasn’t disappeared, it’s just become more selective. These days, getting into my trousers requires a bit of strategy leaning against a wall or sitting on the edge of the bed, especially when socks are involved. 

I’ve always been good about regular medical check-ups, but as I get older, the visit brings a little more anxiety than it used to. Back in my early texting days, LOL meant Laugh Out Loud. These days, LOL means Living On Lipitor. I’m grateful that my health can still be managed with one regular tablet, not a lolly bag.

You won’t see me applying anti-ageing products or expensive age-defying creams, but I do apply litres of sunscreen.

My skin is naturally pale, but once I’m fully coated in a thick, white, sticky paste, it’s even whiter. I did have that annoying mum who would yell from the back door: “Do you have sunscreen on?” already holding the tube in her hand, knowing l probably didn’t.

“Come here and put some more on,” she’d say, lathering it all over me. It was always about protecting my skin, and I have her to thank for that and for the ritual I still continue today. Thanks, mum.

So, yes, I’m getting older, but I’m still showing up, still laughing, and still living fully. If this is what ageing looks like, I’m fine with it as long as I can keep my sense of humour and remember why I opened the pantry cupboard or walked into the room.

There are a few things I hope for as I get older: that young drivers will have patience while I slowly shuffle across the road; that my fire crew will chauffeur me back to the nursing home in the fire truck after I’ve escaped and check I haven’t set the kitchen on fire and most importantly, that my kids keep in regular contact.

Paul Dorin is a senior fire officer by day and the CityNews cartoonist by night.