I am a child of the 70s.
All of it actually, as I was born in 1970, October 5th to be precise. So
those of you quick off the mark will realise that very, very soon I’ll
be hitting the big 4-0.
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I remember being school-aged, and feeling like time really dragged by. A week seemed to crawl ,and a month was a life-sentence (especially when grounded!). I also recall my grandmother telling me emphatically that ‘time flies’; and on this – my thirtieth birthday – I certainly understand more of the depth of her message!
It’s not just leaving my 20′s that causes me to ask: So what does age really mean/matter? Is there any significance in the quantity of our birthdays other than to mark the passing of time?
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