PERHAPS I ve been saying too much in recent weeks about being of, shall we say, a more mature age. But just when I thought that I was beginning to accept the thought of growing old gracefully, there has to be a reminder. In the post the other day came an

PERHAPS I've been saying too much in recent weeks about being of, shall we say, a more mature age.

But just when I thought that I was beginning to accept the thought of growing old gracefully, there has to be a reminder.

In the post the other day came an invitation.

No, it wasn't one of those gold-embossed versions requesting attendance at an important event.

Here was an invitation to spend hard-earned cash on a subscription - albeit at a cut-rate - to the Oldie magazine.

I mean to say, I don't mind being reminded of being 60-years-old, but I do not need to be told each month with the arrival of a magazine.

It's almost like 10 years ago, when suddenly the post was arriving each day with Saga holidays details and reasons to enjoy time away with like-minded people.

Who are these like-minded people? Suddenly everyone is placed in a pigeon-hole. Well, we're not, thank goodness, all the same.

But I can now see the day rapidly approaching when being over 60 is the opportunity for all and sundry in the world of consumer promotions to look at their "research" and decide that we, too, belong in a certain pigeon-hole.

Well, we're not.

We do not need to be told by some upstart that we now belong in a certain category and that our needs are all the same.

Life isn't like that.

We all have our likes and dislikes and, to tell the truth, we do not need to be told what we should be doing or have someone attempting to plan our later years because of the results of a survey or poll.

Some years ago a holiday company invited us to a morning of cross-examination over being involved in a holiday accommodation rent-share scheme.

The reason I was a chosen as a victim was simply because I meet the company's profile and would be a proper candidate to spend vast sums of money each year on owning part of a property in an overcrowded holiday resort.

I may have met all the criteria, but I didn't want to spend each year in a place where I would simply be seen as an extra out of that now-forgotten soap opera Eldarado.

In spite of the heavy brochures and pages of legal paperwork, they could not convince me that I would be the perfect resident in a complex where I was surrounded by those like-minded people.

We made our excuses - albeit after playing the game for more than hour - and left.

Let's ensure that we all remain individuals - after all, it does make life more interesting.