The Golden Years
I received a letter yesterday.
It was a summons.
I am to report [subject to the provisions of the Jury Act 1976] for jury duty at Skobieville Court on the 24th of March at 10 am.
10 am? Are they fucking kidding me? That would mean getting up at some ungodly hour in the morning which is not right for any man nor beast.
Mind you, the thought does appeal. I can see myself finding any little scut guilty just because I don’t like the look of him. The real icing on the cake would be to sit on a case where Son-in-Law was involved – “Guilty Yer Honour and a recommended minimum sentence of life”. I suppose they wouldn’t let me sit on one of his cases though.
The reality though would be more a case of dragging myself out of bed, having terrible trouble finding parking only to find I wasn’t required. A pain in the hole. So I am playing the exemption card. If I’m over 65 I can excuse myself without any further reason.
There are advantages to being a pensioner.
In the afternoon I went to renew my driving licence. It meant a grand spin up the motorway where I happily played with my cruise control. I arrived to find four or five people ahead of me all sitting playing with their smart phones. I looked around and noticed a screen on the wall with a keyboard. I investigated and found it was a sort of log-in system to simplify queueing. I entered my name and sat down. My name was called next because the other people hadn’t noticed the system. There was a rush for the screen!
So they took photos of me and took samples of my signature. Everything fine. Licence will arrive in the post next week. She gave me a receipt which was strange as I hadn’t paid anything. I queried this and she smiled sweetly and told me it was free.
Another advantage of old age!
Good on her young feller me lad.
When I got home, I checked – apparently licences are free for the over 70s. I suppose when that law was passed they expected us all to be dead by then.
I'd say congratulations on being old but it just doesn't seem the right thing to say for some odd reason.
Being only 60 myself I'm not quite there yet as far as "senior" is concerned–not that it would really make any difference. I'll still have to pay for all the stuff I have to pay for now with the possible exception of certain discounts at businesses and restaurants that aren't within a 100 miles from me. I'm sure any of the local car dealerships would just love to grant me a senior discount (once I officially become "senior" that is) but that just means they'll jack up the sale price an equal percentage.
So, no real breaks for being old in the good ol' US of A. You pay until you die and then they'll bill your family for the funeral. And any other debts you might have of course. Therefor…
…I plan to outlive everyone.
I have discovered there are quite a few financial bonuses that come with age. I get free travel [if I want it], free TV licence, free medical stuff including visits to Doc, reduced electricity [bill, not voltage], free driving licence and discounts in various shops around. They used to give us free passports but the bastards stopped that.
I just renewed my licence. Stuck a photo on the form that was sent to me, ticked a couple of boxes, told them they could access my passport details to check that I am indeed me, and sent it off. Has to be that way as there are no offices any more, DVLA closed them all to save money!
We're not quite so advanced here. Normally a licence can be renewed online but in my case I had to get a form physically signed and stamped by Doc. That meant presenting myself in person. A nice little Portacabin at the arse end of an industrial estate.
Renewed my licence when I hit 70. Had to take a physical and play with a hand-eye coordination machine. Got the new one for three years and had to pay 50 euros. Spain!
Here it's just a form to be filled in by the Doc. It was interesting reading afterward, discovering all the things I don't have.