The time of your life.
Let the good times roll.
It’s better to burn out than to fade away.
If I had my time again.
Time waits for no man.
An infant cannot understand the concept of time. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, et cetera.
A teenager thinks that a twenty-something is a relic of a bygone age and a twenty-something thinks that he is indestructible.
By the time you reach your forties, you are attending more funerals than weddings and you finally become conscious of your own mortality.
Sadly, by letting the good times roll, whilst having the time of their lives, many drink, smoke and eat themselves to death before they emerge into middle aged wisdom.
However, whilst they are burning away, many carry a torch that illuminates the dark recesses of our memories, long after the flame fades away. A light so bright that we can still warm ourselves on a cold winter’s night with the one hundredth telling of the time that….
With the benefit of hindsight would we all do things differently? Would we lose the spontaneity, the spark that first set the torch burning and would our world be the colourful place that it has been? Or would we have nothing but an old blanket to warm us through our winter years?
As I approach my forty-fifth year, I have to pay homage to the most dazzling of my contemporaries, who burnt out nine years ago after burning brightly for forty-two years.
And as time waits for no man, I must chronicle some of the good times before my flame fades away. I apologise if I omit any details - I was off my face most of the time in those days.
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To the one and only Gerald Fletcher, put a pint over the bar, I’ll catch you later.