Print this pageAccount of a mature UCY student
They are increasingly common, frequently to be spotted in the small but wonderfully cosy UCY café (invariably frowning over some damnably difficult crossword while nevertheless luxuriating in the consumption of delicious coffee and grub from the friendly ladies of said café ), or even - slightly less frequently – in the ever-so-cool Talbot Campus on the Poole/Bournemouth hinterland. There they stand out more amongst the many youthful undergrads, but are just as easily tolerated as in BU’s partner college here in deepest South Somerset.
Who are they? Do they represent a threat, in the way that the credit crunch does to the price of a bottle of
Corona topped with a slice of lime (does the lime prevent scurvy, I hear them ask?) presents a threat to students’ enjoyment? Or maybe a threat similar to that posed by Phil Mitchell in Walford 4 nights weekly when he projects on to our TV screens, his uncanny ability to turn all eligible women that inexplicably fall in love with him into mad witches ? No, sir and madam, they do not! They are merely ‘mature’ students, and can often be identified as much as for their tastes (what is funny about Frankie Boyle and Russell Brand, after all? – however, Bill Bailey, Harry Hill, Jack Dee, Chris Rock, all the IT Crowd – great, but I must admit that these are the personal choices of this particular Oldie-------------------). On behalf of the Wrinklies Aloud (W.A. definitely not W.I.) I have to shout that I’m Out and Proud.
How do I know this? Because, dear reader, {and please spare my blushes}, I am one of they – as we say in these parts. And, provided of course I continue to be able to swing my legs out of bed and on to solid ground in the mornings, I shall happily continue to do so! ‘Mature’ study is great, especially with the manifold joys and temptations of the Internet: just how long was it before I realised that Google was not just a fickle friend but was always going to be there for me? For those of us from a generation that rarely saw an exam paper before the statutory 3-hour exam (with no water or sweets!) in a cold sports hall overseen by a frosty-faced lady who frowned at any manifestation of nerves such as more than one cough or clearing of throat within half an hour, the constant help and support is a total surprise and joy.
Therefore I say to you if you are one of ‘us’: congratulations! If you are not, if the Beatles are an - doubtedly melodic - piece of history along with the mini-skirt, if the 70s and 80s are to be wondered at, rather than identified with (and who can fail to wonder at platform heels and flared trousers and tank tops?}, then thank you for your toleration and understanding and realisation that our occasional verbosity is often due to deep gratitude that there is a captive audience in the classroom to listen to our long-repressed rantings.
Until the next time – (and this was of course a popular song for my mother’s generation blah blah blah and so on----------) – stay cool, baby!
