Basically it's some sort of bizzare genetic switch hard-coded into our DNA, essentially as soon as you turn 50 the idea of sitting in a large room listening to a guy call out random numbers becomes overwhelmingly appealing...

Forget flying, as soon as you hit 50 it's time to get out the Werther's Original and cram on to a tour bus with the rest of your bridge club.

Now you've all seen this happen, don't lie. You've all been at a wedding and someone's grandma has a little bit too much sherry and suddenly she's on the dancefloor shaking her skirt about like Elvis is back and it's the swinging 60's

BOWLS, BOWLS, BOWLS, BOWLS. That is all.....

Having reached the ripe old age of 50 it's time to get a stick, head out into the streets and wave it menacingly at these youngsters with their trousers around their knees. I mean seriously what's that all about?

Pedestrian beware! as grandma (and strangely enough a large percentage of asian students) has got her trolley out. Clearly this one's been pimped out by West Coast Customs...

I kid you not my gran has an entire house filled with lots that she and grandad bought from the auction house. She is now known as collector-gran due to sheer amount of nonsense they have in their house.

Sowing is actually a very social activity, as it allows you to natter on with your friends and family while you create a 3 sleeved pullover that no-one will ever wear.

It's not cool, it's not sexy, it's not intersting (unless you're an insurance salesman), it's not funny or hip - it's just a fact of life and one that becomes increasingly more important the older you get.

I love crazy old people, i'm not talking about those afflicted with real mental conditions - I'm talking about the eccentric ones who will occassionally talk to you in the bar and come out with outrageous left-field statements...