‘Jeez’!He used to read obituaries of 'real' men: Men who had accomplished themselves in all manner of endeavour. Formidable on the battlefield as well as on the playing fields, all- conquering in the boardroom while charming as diplomats and acclaimed as statesmen. They didn't make them like that anymore! Quite possibly given the number of said obituaries/eulogies/ he had devoured over the years they had simply run out, as in expired. After all there could only be a finite number who had survived the war AND relative old age AND of whom it could be said that they had a ‘good war’! He took some solace in the fact that in those days when a job was a rude word who would not have opted for a life as an explorer, poet, botanist or big game hunter? What would the equivalent be today- extreme sports’person’, layabout or eco-warrior? It wasn’t as if there was much left to ‘explore’ these days anyway. Only by walking to the South Pole backwards or in a suit of armour could one say to have done what no man had done before. There were package trips to the Galapagos these days. His last boss had not only been to the Galapagos but also to Rwanda to see the gorillas. His turds no doubt still floating around the former and dollars around the latter!
FUGIT INREPARABILE TEMPUS