I'm heading for that landmark on October 18th, having been born on Chuck Berry's 21st birthday (or the day he was released from his first prison sentence, if you'd rather.) I'll be spending it in Sicily - did Sorrento, Pompeii, the Vesuvius climb, etc, a couple of years ago, otherwise they'd be on the bucket list.

Had a trip on a traditional sailing barge last week: this was one of my two remaining ambitions. As the other one requires the enthusiastic participation of Jennifer Aniston, it may possibly never happen.

Here's a song from the recently departed Kent singer/songwriter Monty Parkin to suit the occasion, to a tune only slightly reminiscent of 'Sweet Little Sixteen':

They're really rocking in Clacton,
In geriatric hotels,
On the prom in Southwold,
Way down to Tunbridge Wells.
As they cling to their Zimmers,
Their sense of rhythm survives,
The rock and roll generation,
The over 65's.

The over 65's
They love to do the frug,
As they bop in their bathchairs,
They wear a tartan rug.
In the middle of the dance-floor,
They shake their wigs and spin,
'Cos if they ever stop moving,
Rigor mortis sets in.

CH:   Oh doctor, doctor,
       Please may I go?
       I've had my hip operation,
       And my blood pressures low.
       Oh sister, sister,
       I've still got all my drives,
       And I want to rock and roll with
       The over 65's.

The over 65's,
They haven't given up yet.
All the girls look groovy,
Dressed in flannelette,
With an inch or two of make-up,
They still retain their looks,
As they dance in a circle,
Around their pension books.

CH:

They'll be rockin' in Frinton,
In retirement mews,
In out-patient clinics,
And Post Office queues.
All over the country,
They'll disrupt whist drives,
'Cos they've never quite grown up,
The over 65's.

(Substitute the names of your own elderly enclaves at will).