So it’s not just me then

As if you needed another reason not to buy The Sun, it managed to vicariously troll me last week with the headline you see to the left.

“Nears” 60? WTAF?! Gallagher only turned 56 at the end of May - and I will do the same in November. Speaking on our joint behalf, we are not near 60 at all. Just not as near 50 as either of us, I’m sure, would prefer.

That said, Gallagher has previously spoken about ageing in a manner that resonated alarmingly readily with me. He told DJ Ken Bruce last year that his 50s had been “one thing after another”, healthwise: “The slightest knock stays with you for ages. And then once that’s cleared up it’s something else, and then once that’s cleared up it’s something else. I can’t wait to get my mobility scooter if I’m being honest.”

With one or two health-related aggravations I can empathise with Gallagher’s kvetching. Two years ago I was hospitalised by a foot blister that nearly led to me losing a toe, I’m now ultra-paranoid: a simple insect bite on holiday had me thinking I’d developed a leg ulcer; mild indigestion will have my thumb hovering over the number 9 on my phone. Hypochondria, maybe, but the odds are stacked against me. I may be only 55, and not 85, but “the march of time”, as Gallagher recently described it, shows itself far too easily. 

Talking to Matt Morgan on his Patreon podcast, Gallagher revealed that he’s beginning to forget words to his own songs on the current High Flying Birds tour. “I’ve found myself on this tour consciously thinking ‘What’s the next line to this song?’,” Gallagher told Morgan. “It’s like, you’ve just got to think about it.” 

When asked if he needed to use a teleprompter he said that: “I’m sure, eventually, I’ll need one”. He wouldn’t be alone if he did: Bruce Springsteen (73) now uses one as does Sir Elton John (76). Three years ago Sir Paul McCartney - now 81 and still performing songs first recorded by The Beatles almost 60 years ago - confessed to using a prompter, blaming age for his distractible mind: “Sometimes I’ll be doing a song, like Eleanor Rigby or something, and I’m on autopilot. And I’m starting to think, ‘Oh, what am I gonna have for dinner?’ Then I go, ‘Stop!’ because I’m singing Eleanor Rigby! I’ve separated myself not only from Paul and fame, but a couple of bits in my head are going in different places.“

Noel Gallagher might be renown for his dry humour but there’s a fair chance his admission is genuine. And it would be a relief, too. I’m only four months Gallagher’s junior, and like him, I’m increasingly experiencing complete blanks, mostly when trying to remember names. It’s an increasing source of frustration, especially given that my head is - or at least used to be - crammed full of useless trivia. 

Bands, albums, films, TV shows, actors and other inconsequential cultural obscurities. Some things do remain hardwired - I can still reel off lyrics from 1971 Genesis songs (Return Of The Giant Hogweed, anyone?), but occasionally struggle to remember the name of someone I’ve been recently introduced to. Thank God for the Internet: an actor’s name is only a few IMDB clicks away, an album title retrievable from Wikipedia. I do, though, worry that I’m simply not using my brain enough, and given in to the iPad I seem to nurse throughout any evening spent in front of the TV. 

For some part, I’ve accepted all of this as a normal part of ageing, that my head is so full of stuff there’s no more space for any more. Some degree of memory decline is a normal part of getting older. For the most part it’s just forgetfulness - walking into a room and then asking what you’re dong there, or misplacing reading glasses (another symbol of age). Even momentarily forgetting a name. 

Medical professionals will reassure you that such events are not unusual - the brain undergoes numerous structural changes over time, with even certain regions of the organ shrinking. This can affect communication between brain cells, leading to slower information processing and memory recall. Hormonal changes, too, play a crucial role in memory and cognitive function, so that as hormone levels evolve with age, so too can memory processes. Another factor is changes to neurotransmitters, the chemicals that transmit signals between nerve cells, which can also affect memory formation and retrieval.

However, the unavoidable elephant in the room, if I can apply a metaphor citing an animal with a reputation for a solid memory: dementia. My father had Alzheimer’s (he died from it four years ago tomorrow at the age of 90) and my grandfather had it too. You’ll understand my inherent sense of dread at being condemned to the same fate, especially as I also have Type 2 diabetes, which has been suggested as an accelerant, along with other forms of cardiovascular impairment.

Experts strive to make clear distinction between normal age-related memory changes and such severe cognitive disorders as Alzheimer’s and dementia, and the vascular factors that can lead to such conditions. Mitigating these factors means being as active - mentally and physically as possible. Reading, doing puzzles, learning new skills will help, as well regular exercise (my biggest downfall). Since I was diagnosed with diabetes, my diet has improved out of all recognition, but that still means I need to consume plenty of antioxidants, omega-3 fatty acids and nutrients like vitamin E can contribute to brain health. And exercise is still a challenge.

Less obvious measures include maintaining strong social connections, which have been linked to better cognitive outcomes in older adults, as well as applying stress management techniques. Arguably, though, one of the hardest mitigations is getting a good, quality night’s sleep, which is essential for memory consolidation and overall brain function.

The bottom line is that, as we journey through life, our bodies and minds inevitably undergo changes. Some - like putting on weight - can be somewhat self-inflicted. Some of it is down to genetics. But much is simply down to the very march of time Noel Gallagher invoked. If only all that entailed was hair sprouting from places that didn’t previously host it.