“Creative accounting” .".....That’s bullshit, Ron. All you needed was a bigger biscuit tin and an A3 printer- for larger betting slips!
Sounds like the older generations got money for old rope, now degrees don't guarantee you a job at McDonald's and the money has been devalued to oblivion after decades of pillaging by banks. Third world imports now flooding the market and working for pennies, the future doesn't look bright for the unestablished. "Here’s a brutal statistic: One poll found 52 percent of Americans under the age of 45 have either lost their job, been put on leave, or had their hours dramatically cut as a result of the coronavirus pandemic, compared to 26 percent of people over the age of 45."
certainly a crisis of capitalism , the two things it exploits the most , natural resources and human beings , one is a finite resource the other has the capability of stopping all this exploitation.
I can assure you it wasn't money for old rope Joe. But as I have said before somewhere I have a lot of sympathy with the younger generation. In my day you could get a secure job for life with prospects of rises and promotions for those who deserved it. There appears to be very few, if any, such opportunities for the younger generation and I'm not sure how I would have coped in such an environment, not being entrepreneurial youngster. There is no doubt about it, life is much tougher now than it was. The zero hours contracts have resulted in insecurity, and loyalty has gone out of the window in many cases. Dedicated employees were a key resource for companies but I wonder if that is dying out
My Wife too, Rainer. I would not be around now but for her, and that's a fact. Actually, since a couple of hours before Christmas Eve 2018 (don't know when exactly, as my Wife found me face-down flat on the floor of my small 'study'.) Three weeks in a Krankenhaus, and then two more hospital (all three were different ones) visitations with other problems which included a busted hip. My Wife, and Daughter, were there for me all the time, otherwise, sod it, I would have probably given-up. It was great to read Tamerlo's tribute to his better half, a man is so lucky when his mate prove to be exactly the right one. P.S. How the hell I managed to get her I'll never know, I was never a ladies' man, the competition was fierce! But I was a nasty-looking bugger when angry!, maybe that helped?
Swanny, good for you! It’s refreshing for someone to show his sensibility and honest feelings towards his wife. I trust you are OK now, health-wise. All the best.
That sounds nasty Tam. I hope you are OK now. Us oldies have to plug on. I hope we all have many more years of sharing our thoughts with each other and hope they are mainly nice ones. The strolls down memory lane are always a good read
At the end of the day we oldies are a tough lot though Swanny. It will take something to finish us off eh
Thank you, Tamerlo, I'm doing OK now, occasional blips of course. Keep well yourself too! A winner would do great things for me, but I just cannot find one for the life of me; the worst run I have ever had, I think. Thank goodness, I am under very strict rules from the family 'finance manager', but do have a quite reasonable weekly allowance all the same. All the very best to you, glad to see you back on the forum with 'Down Memory Lane'; the Levmoss anecdote was great!
I could never afford a motor bike, Oddy. Like you, I'd probably have killed myself. My brother-in-law gave me a ride on his Norton 650 and, doing about 80mph early one Sunday morning, he scared the **** out of me at 10 years old. When I was 17, my female cousin gave me her Vespa 125 scooter, and I was over the moon! I used to ride the 3 miles to school on it and I remember giving my friend a lift home (illegally as a learner driver). Coming to the traffic lights in Burnley centre, I braked too late , hit the back bumper of a parked car- and the fancy metal bit atop the front mudguard flew off at right angles somehow, hitting a bobby in the neck stood on the pavement outside Woolworths. He hadn't a clue where it had come from. When the lights changed, I shot off like a bat out of hell; drove a few hundred yards ; stopped the scooter; and me and my friend, Melvyn , laughed until tears ran down our legs! A month later, my 55 year old father borrowed the scooter without asking and wrote it off. I was heartbroken! Happy days, eh?