You can tell you're (a) getting old, (b) looking even more down-at-heel than usual and in clear need of a haircut and (c) thoroughly immersed in the throbbing diverse and vibrant Multiculture when you are minding your own business on a Soho street as an Indian Big Issue
vendor approaches. Instead of inviting you to buy one of his infernal magazines, he wishes you well, addresses you kindly and respectfully as baba
, and pats you reassuringly on the arm before moving on.
Well brung up young West Indians addressing you as Uncle, people offering you their seat on the bus, on which you are travelling free of charge with your Freedom Pass. This Third Age stuff is not without its compensations.