THE LETTER REVEALED

So, today I'm 40.  Last night - my last few hours in my thrilling 30s - I made Lucy watch 'Weekender' (a film set in the early '90s about a group of young clubbers who set up illegal raves) and reminisced about my youth in a melancholy way, as though my life was about to end.  Not really taking into account that my days of reckless clubbing every weekend have already been over for about 15 years anyway.

However - despite wanting a lie-in in anticipation of my forthcoming 'surprise party' tonight - I woke up early at 6am this morning feeling excited! (Well actually it was because I needed a poo, but I couldn't get back to sleep afterwards.  Mainly because Lucy was jumping around like a loon shouting "Happy Birthday!!" at me.)

So, after opening a few cards and sipping some champagne that Lucy had bought for me (yes, drinking champagne at 6:30am, that's how I roll!), I decided it was time to open the letter I wrote to myself when I was 17.  And I decided to ask Lucy to film it there and then, and to share it with you as I read it for the first time in 22 years.  The video and letter are below...

(Please excuse the top of my head being missing.  That was down to my camera-woman, Lucy "I do have a degree in media studies, you know" Townsend.)

So, it turns out the letter was actually from 1991, not 1990, written just a few days before my 18th birthday... but I can't really change the URL of my blog now!

However... the letter was actually a bit of a let-down.  I was hoping for a list of wild things to do, that would fill my life with joy and excitement over the coming weeks!  However, the instructions are basically:

• "Go out and party!" - tick, tonight.

• "Get pissed or something!" - tick, tonight.

• "Buy some trendy clothes!" - hells yeah, have you seen my swagger lately!  (Alright, alright, there could be some room for improvement there...)

• "Even if you hate the modern music of 2013, listen to it and try to appreciate it."- Well, I still listen to chart music regularly.  I even like a bit of dubstep.  Innit.

• "Don't grow old gracefully - fight it all the way!" - hmmm.  I'd say that battle has definitely been ongoing, and I'm winning.  A man who gets drunk at Christmas and planks on top of a postbox in a Santa hat can hardly be described as graceful....

What I found most interesting about the letter is the concept that, at the age of 17, I thought by now I'd be wearing a brown cardigan and slippers and going out once a month to play bingo or for half a pint of shandy.  I've obviously not grown up as much as I thought I would have...

I don't own a cardigan (although ironically I did have a fetching mustard cardigan when I was 18...), I never wear slippers (they make my feet too hot), I generally go out more than once a month (alright, not clubbing or drinking all the time nowadays, but I do have lots of fun... possibly helped by having bagged a 27 year old girlfriend...), I've never been to bingo (but there's a thought...) and I don't drink half pints of shandy.  I may not drink as much as I used to when I was younger - it would probably kill me - but I can still put it away when I want to.

Yaay, the conclusion is I'm not an old fart!!  However, the conclusion is also that when I was 17 I had a pretty boring view of life.

NOW... this means that this letter does not unfortunately, make for a good blog.  Yes, I can blog about how drunk I get when I go out and party tonight.  I can buy some skinny jeans and post a photo of me not being able to get into them.  And I can listen to music I already listen to anyway. Woo-hoo.

SO...

... I  HAVE DECIDED TO OPEN UP THE FATE OF MY 41st YEAR TO YOU, MY FRIENDS.

I WANT YOU TO MAKE SUGGESTIONS OF THINGS I HAVE TO DO BEFORE I'M 41.  POST YOUR SUGGESTIONS HERE ON THIS BLOG OR ON FACEBOOK, AND I WILL PICK AT LEAST 5 OF THEM - BASED MAINLY ON POPULARITY - TO DO OVER THE COMING MONTHS AND THEN BLOG ABOUT THEM.

MAKE THEM GOOD!!!

Holy shit, what am I thinking.  It must be the early morning birthday champagne.

Disclaimer:  I'll pick the challenges/tasks based predominantly on popularity and/or wackiness... but I will reserve the right to NOT choose anything that is likely to: end my relationship with Lucy; rinse me of too much money I can ill afford; or make me vomit (too hard.)  Other than that, anything goes.  Over to you...

BIG FISH, LITTLE FISH, CARDBOARD BOX

I have a big, dog-eared cardboard box hidden away that I call my 'memory box'.  It's travelled with me from house to house over the years.  I rarely open it.  I've always thought that one day, when I'm old(er), I'll use it to reminisce about my life.  It's full of old school books, stories I wrote and pictures I drew as a child, letters from various people I've known throughout my life (old girlfriends, pen friends and the like), cards and drawings from my kids, tickets to places I've been and may have otherwise long forgotten, and many other things I've thrown in there over the years since I was a teen.  Things to remind me of my life.

One thing I've vaguely remembered over the years, is that on (or around) my 17th birthday - back in 1990 - I wrote a letter.  To myself.  ONLY to be opened on my 40th birthday.  And I thought I'd buried it in my memory box.

With my 40th birthday now looming, I had, in fact, in recent times forgotten about the letter.  It was only by some lucky chance that yesterday evening - six days before my birthday - my girlfriend Lucy decided we should watch the schmaltzy "P.S. I Love You".  And it was whilst watching this - in which Hilary Swank receives letters from a dead Gerard Butler - that I remembered about my letter.

And so it was that last night (after having to turn the film off part-way through before an inconsolable Lucy drowned the cat in tears.  I think it's more that she fancies Gerard Butler than she felt sorry for Hilary.) I began to rifle through my memory box, hoping the letter was in there.  After turning out piles of memorabilia from my life, I eventually found a slightly crumpled envelope near the bottom of the box. Scrawled on the front in teenage handwriting were the words:

To Simon

(open on your 40th Birthday)

So next Friday, 21st June 2013, I have a birthday present to open from myself.  A birthday present which has travelled in time from my own mind, 23 years ago.  I can't remember exactly what it says, but I think in part it contains a list of things to do in case I'd become an old fogey by now.

And if 17-year old Me has told 40-year old Me to do something(s), I'll share it here... and I'm going to do everything I've instructed myself to.

I'm a bit nervous.  Lucy's even more nervous.

Roll on next Friday!!