The ageless question

Australia Great Britain

A FEW days ago I turned seventy-five but, truth be told, I’ve been pondering the three-quarter-century mark ever since I reached seventy-four. Why it’s a milestone is hard to say, as it is with any kind of milestone. Officially, I became old on my sixtieth birthday, fifteen years ago. That’s when I got the treasured seniors card that enables me to travel on public transport at mercifully reasonable rates, although recent changes in the age pension mean that I wouldn’t now be eligible for it until I’d lived another year and a bit. Later, had I had superannuation, I would have been able to access my annuity tax-free, but I didn’t and, as a working senior, I still contribute to consolidated revenue in the form of income taxes. On the face of it, Commonwealth treasurers since Peter Costello must love me, but that isn’t so…

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