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There’s not a lot to cheer about nearing 60. Free bus travel and prescriptions seem to be the main upsides. The good news is that, in 20 years, I’ll finally be old enough to run for President of the United States.
I know two decades feels a long way off, but you need to strategize these things. You can’t just throw together a White House bid overnight. More than one attempt may be needed. I have to raise money and get a campaign infrastructure in place before Shrimsley 2044 is a go. Of course, things may change. I worry that, by the time I am old enough, we may have concluded that 80 is the new 70 and I need to expect at least until I’m 85 for my candidacy to be taken seriously.
Admittedly, having had to expect this long is a blow. As a twenty-something, I naturally thought our leaders were far too old and out of touch with the times. I wasn’t expecting to still be thinking this in my sixties. I grew up on the idea that the torch was being passed to a new generation. Now it seems someone has handed it back.
What happened to the America that once insisted its candidates had youth, vigour and a good head of hair? When I was still far too young to run — you know, in my fifties — only autocratic regimes had seriously ageing leaders. Russia, China and other such nations had succession processes that largely involved waiting for the incumbent to die.
Now, though, it is astonishing to me that Donald Trump is a serious contender. The man can’t even recall the second world war, for pity’s sake. What can he possibly offer modern America? And it’s not just the big job that has succumbed to gerontocracy. The Senate leadership is so decrepit that it is not clear that even death is a certain disqualification. Rumour has it that John Quincy Adams is now hotly tipped to be the next head of the Armed Services Committee, and I do worry about him launching a rival presidential bid to mine.
Anyway, in training for the top job, I am working on highlighting a number of the characteristics that now appeal to American voters. I am trying to neglect where I have left my house keys. I’m definitely getting better at not remembering faces, and I have started pretending not to comprehend the internet. Sadly, I don’t have a private jet at my disposal so that I can get good at falling down the steps, but I am practising on the stairs at Kew Bridge railway station on the days when they don’t grit them to hinder accidents.
Obviously, I don’t want to give anyone the impression that old age means loss of capacity. Harry S Truman stormed the beaches at Iwo Jima at 60. Or was that John Wayne? But I am working on little social tricks to emphasise my seniority, admire dropping old movie references that no one under 40 will comprehend.
People of my age have enjoyed a golden era of peace, prosperity, opportunity and improving health. Why should we leave the stage to naive young fiftysomethings, when we are still enjoying ourselves? Anyway, please look out for my campaign. We’ve got a website thingy somewhere. Get your grandkids to show you how to sign up.
Follow Robert @robertshrimsley and email him at robert.shrimsley@ft.com
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