Collage: Photographic Societies To Day / Punk assault on the queen! / Yes, I'm over 60

RTomens, 2022

'To Day'? Well, as you can see, that's how they wrote it in 1959, the year The British Journal Photographic Almanac, from which the cutting was taken, was published. When 'to day' became 'today' as we know it...today...I don't know. Perhaps they stuck with 'to day' for years. Perhaps it was the more common way of writing it back then. Perhaps they had to have a board meeting one year in which this matter of 'to day' was discussed and it was decided, after some debate, to modernise and commit to 'today' henceforth.

Today in Britain is a public holiday as part of celebrating the queen's platinum jubilee. I'm reminded of her silver jubilee in 1977, when someone in The Green Man pub (Aylesbury) had put a safety pin through the nose of her portrait on the wall. Ollie, the landlady, was not pleased and she was not a woman to mess with. Despite her enquiries, none of us grassed. Punk rock! I think the culprit was Brick (RIP). That poor soul was always being beaten up by Soul Boys. His dedication to the Punk Look was such that he made himself an obvious target and his slight build didn't help. 

I used to say that the 'spirit of Punk' still resided in much of my art, but nowadays I'm not so sure. Perhaps it's just me being nostalgic and justifying my lack of technical skills. That said, somewhere lurking in the recesses of my aging noodle there is a 'philosophy' based on the rejection of Formal traditions, including, of course, all the nonsense involved in the pompous Fine Art world. 

Today I'm 63. I was 63 on Tuesday, as I assured the woman on the checkout at Iceland in Kentish Town. 'Why is she asking if I was over 60?' I wondered as I went to pay for loo roll and some mature cheddar cheese. Do you have to be mature to buy mature cheese? If so, will under-60s be loitering outside the store, asking older folk to buy cheese for them? She showed me the back of a receipt which stated that over-60s get ten per cent off their shopping, but only on Tuesdays. Result! Iceland, the caring face of capitalism in this age of soaring energy bills and high inflation! I didn't envy her the task of trying to read someone's age as they went to pay. Imagine asking someone who's only 51 if they're over 60. Ah, the benefits of aging. Mind you, discount was slightly marred by the fact that she suspected my age, even though I was wearing sunglasses and a cap. There's no hiding the physical effects of living through five decades! I might try putting a safety pin through my nose and wearing bondage trousers, then shopping at another branch of Iceland to see if I get asked my age again...

TTFN