There are many definitions of what makes news.
Some people believe it is the sexual antics of Premiership footballers. Others believe it is the endless “he said, she said” tittle tattle of backbench politics.
For me though, the definition of newsworthiness is rarity. I believe things deserve their place in newspapers, on TV or even an internet blog, if they are so rare, or happen so seldom, that it is unusual to hear about them.
Thus it was with Golden Weddings. When I first started out in journalism almost 40 years ago, a 50 year wedding anniversary was unusual.
So unusual that young cub reporters and grizzled veteran photographers were paired up to go knock on the unsuspecting couple’s door and make them pose in an awkward cuddle and answer inane questions about the secret of such a (frankly) awesome length of time being hitched…(invariably they couldn’t stand the sight of each other and the answers were unrepeatable).
Over time, though, as we all grew older, Golden anniversaries became more common, the novelty greetings card manufacturers made a fortune, and the newspapers lost interest.
Many of these couples stayed together out of habit. It was the done thing, and although many of them had probably fallen out of love a long time before, there was a kind of unwritten, unspoken bond which kept them together for companionship, mutual security and a misguided sense that their children and grandchildren expected it.
But in the last few years the tables have been turning. The divorce rates in the UK have – overall – been falling among the younger age groups, but rising in the older age groups.
The average age of divorcees now has crept up into the 40s, but with a great many older than that.
Some of you will know that I have a small, but perfectly formed, panel of people ranging from 50 to 83 who are happy to take part in occasional research questions. Of the few hundred souls who make up this number, 31 per cent are either divorced, widowed or single. If that was scaled up across the population it would mean there are more than 7 million over 50s living alone in the UK.
No-one likes being lonely. Given the choice we would all want to have someone we could share our life with…maybe not every minute of every day, but being in a relationship is undeniably preferable to the alternative.
But for those people over the age of 50 who find themselves suddenly single…how do you start all over again? It’s a scary prospect.
And so it was that I came to be pondering all of this while standing in front of a full length mirror wearing only my boxers – in the privacy of my own home you understand.
I feel I must explain. This month I have been talking to a very interesting man – Eddy Ankrett. Eddy is the larger than life character behind Elite Introductions and Dateline – of which he is now Chairman.
Himself 66, divorced and re-married, Eddy is something of an expert about the love lives of the over 50s. So much so that he has recently launched a new spin-off company called Dateline Platinum exclusively for older singles.
But for anyone contemplating the dating game, he said the search must first start at home. His view – and I have to agree with him – is that before you can expect anyone to like you, you have to like yourself…and the first place to start is with your appearance.
Unfortunately, our brains are programmed to make snap judgements when we first meet someone. So, although beauty may be more than skin deep, you have to make a bit of an effort from the off.
Eddy’s advice is to get yourself in front of a mirror and critically examine every aspect of your appearance. From your hair (or lack of it) to your figure (or lack of it) to the way you carry yourself. If you met you on a date, would you really want to spend more than five minutes with you (assuming you were wearing more than just boxers of course)?
Apparently you would be surprised just how many people register with online dating sites (not Eddy’s ones clearly) who have given zero thought to the way they appear and because it is obvious they have very low self-respect they are never going to attract a new soul mate.
Now, I’m not looking for a new partner – Mrs Lumsden and I are almost closer to a Golden Wedding than a Silver Wedding – but I thought I’d give his mirror system a try in the interests of research.
The results, I have to say, were not encouraging. The stranger looking back at me from the mirror told me I was too short, too bald, and carrying too much weight. I thought it was a tad unfair, and tried to point out that I have a very dry sense of humour, I can be a charming host and I am a very good listener.
Then I realised I was just a middle aged guy standing in his boxers talking to himself in front of a mirror. I don’t need a dating guru I need a stiff drink.
Article first published in the East Anglian Daily Times
Download PDF