Spot of Bubbly, Old Thing?
Charles Dawson
Ah, retirement. Our sunset years are supposed to be like going to heaven a couple of decades before we actually get around to dying.
Youve seen the ads, of course. We all swan around in blue blazers with gold buttons, white duck trousers and deck shoes, only pausing between cruises and bridge weeks for long enough to survey the financial pages with quiet satisfaction. Our wives can be identified by their candy-pink suits and gold shoes, and their tendency to fret about not having enough fingers for their rings. And of course were...