The Antique

 I was in Liverpool with my eldest lad and I walked past a pub that I used to pop into back in the early 1980’s. Outside there was a sign that said “Established 1898”. 

“I used to go in there when I was a student,” I said with a smile, reminiscing as the memories of fun nights out with friends came flooding back. 

“Oh really? What was it like on opening night?” he asked with a laugh. 

This happens on a fairly regular basis when my two lads decide that I am a walking antique. I've been called a fossil, a dinosaur and a caveman. I have successfully managed to ignore such jibes, adding "It will happen to you one day!".  

Occasionally, sadly, such things catch me unawares and I react. Usually, I am quite happy to be a man in my early 60’s and mostly I ignore my advancing years. In my head I am still that 18 year old lunatic (probably with the brain of a 15 year old if I'm honest). The only thought that pops into my head when confronted by a reminder of my age is “Oh – I remember that” and it is almost always with fondness and causes me to laugh or smile. 

Last weekend I went away for a weekend with some friends all around my age (ranging from 55 to 66) and we had a good time just catching up and enjoying each other’s company. One afternoon, we went to a place in the Cheshire countryside that is basically a family park or village with lots of attractions, such as quirky shops, various country-based activities, restaurants and bars. 

We popped into a shop that advertised itself as an antiques shop. Initially I spotted a few items of furniture, books and an assortment of household items and ornaments that I would have said fitted into the category of “antique”. However, as I strolled further into the store, I noticed that there were a few items described as “collectibles” but originated from my youth; memories came flooding back. I saw old records, toys, magazines, football programmes, games, books and many other items that I was very familiar with. These were things that my parents bought for me or that they had had around the house having bought them back in the 1950’s to the 1980’s or perhaps been given them by my grandparents, which definitely made them antiques. 

I thought to myself – I really am quite old if I remember these things. 

For example, I flicked through several record collections for sale and saw albums that I used to have from the 1970’s or that my parents had bought when they were young (we are talking 1950’s and 1960’s here). I saw a cutlery set where the handles were made of faux bone ivory that I remember eating with as a kid in the late 1970’s. There were old games, Corgi and Dinky model cars that I once had a vast collection of, and lots of old books by people like Enid Blyton that my two sisters and I used to read. 

It was like stepping back in time. 

And then I thought – “Bloody hell! I really am an antique!”

Have you heard of the term “mid-century”? It is used to describe items that span the middle years of the 20th century from the early 1930’s to the end of the 1960’s. I was born in 1962 so, strictly speaking, that makes ME mid-century. I had only heard it mentioned in terms of antiques on shows like “Bargain Hunt” and “Antiques Roadshow”. 

For some reason this struck a chord and when I returned home, I looked up the definition of “antique” and I was pleasantly surprised. To define something as an antique it has to be at least 100 years old. Thank goodness for that, I thought. Things that are over 50 years old are described as “vintage”. This means that I am not antique; I am merely vintage – and also mid-century. 

That’s a relief. 

Back on our Cheshire break, after the trip to the antique shop, we returned to the place we were staying and decided to play some music with our evening meal. For a change we decided to play songs from Spotify that were number 1 in the UK for various milestones. For example, when we were born, when we were 10, 18 and 21. I have to say that when I heard them all, I started to think about being old again. These songs were all over 40 years old, for goodness’ sake and no matter how good they were, it didn’t stop my age from coming back to haunt me, especially after seeing toys, books and games from my youth in the shop claiming to be antique. 

I’m over it now, because I have been happily listening to songs from the 1970’s to the 1990’s since then and my happy memories of times that were up to 50 years ago are still worth cherishing. I am sure that in the future I will be hit by the realisation that I am an old man now. However, it will be a fleeting negative feeling I think because I have friends who are older than me and I love reminiscing about times gone by. They were happy times in a world that was vastly different to the one we are living in now. 

I am proud and happy to be a vintage mid-century man.