SO did we all read the supplement ‘Brighter Barnsley’ in last week’s Chron? I know a few of you did because I’ve had the letters. Oh boy, have I. Lovely recipe for a sweet potato and lentil dahl, duly banked. Then I turned the page and saw the headline ‘Travelling in your 60s can still be a joy’.

Isn’t it amazing how much impact a five-letter word can have… ‘still’? Patronising, rude, ageist… these are the words which I’ve been sent this week on the subject.

Personally I hooted. ‘We can choose cities that respect your pace’, the article says. I’m presuming this ‘pace’ means hobbling around Valencia with a zimmer frame.

Maybe stopping for a nice cuppa by a statue to allow our carers to adjust our shawls and administer statins. Written by someone who might use the words ‘Frank Sinatra who?’

Objectively speaking, maybe we are all guilty of ageism before we have got to the decades to experience them.

I was taught a lesson in that when I was in my twenties and introduced to the women I was going to be managing in a shop: Nancy (mid-fifties) Sheila (early-sixties) and Mary (early-seventies). ‘This is going to be great, working with these old farts’ I thought behind my smiles of greeting.

We ended up having an enduring lifelong friendship. They taught me so much about life (I was having the same man problems as Mary).

We went ten-pin bowling together, scoffing, drinking… they were magnificent balls of energy and the inspiration for the cross generational friendships that appeared in my novels because no-one was writing about them, so I’m sure I helped start that trend off.

And when Sheila took me spinning… I fell off my bike, purple as an aubergine.

I was talking with friends about this ‘still’ at the weekend and was reliably informed (warning – a TMI is coming) that the biggest rise in STDs is with the boomers. Yes folks, they still do the wild thing. The divine pairing of HRT and the onset of insomnia means they can power on for much longer as well – wahay.

Some use the junk mail for stairlifts and funeral plans to light their spliffs. We could teach the millennials a lot about resilience and core strength. We ‘still’ have a few marbles too. Can’t imagine anyone saying ‘Aw bless him’ about Keith Richards.

I presume the writer has a vision of a 60s person as a Mary Whitehouse/Peggy Mount type and not Liz Hurley or Elle MacPherson who one can find advertising bikinis and not incontinence pads.

Wish I could be around to witness how the architect of that ‘still’ feels when they hit their 60s. And they, in turn, read an article written by a youngster (who has never heard of Taylor Swift) ‘Breathing in your 60s is still a possibility’.

Maybe the writer should research/respect their audience a bit more seeing as this Jones/Boomer generation is the one buying the newspapers and reading such guff as: ‘Europe in your sixties isn’t about ticking boxes’. Eh. Who says it isn’t? I don’t want to ‘soak up the heritage’ and bumble around churches, love. I want to tick off climbing to the top of Pisa (again), snorkel in Sardinian seas (AGAIN) Northern soul dance my grappas off in an Irish bar (not a euphemism).

There is a surge of energy that comes with the liberation of this age. You might say ‘grumpy’ we say ‘taking less crap’ and putting two fingers up to the sensible. Yep, and we still have the teeth to chew on a steak, a crusty French baguette… and an article-writer who puts a ‘still’ in where there is absolutely no need.