Going out as a teenager and into my twenties it was simple. Wash, dress, grab the only jacket I had (a leather bike jacket with many pockets) and off I went.

My jacket had everything I needed. Toothbrush, underpants, socks, small multi tool, address book (pre-mobile phone era; yes there was such a time), wallet, keys, pen and fags.

That was my kit for an evening or a week. I’d rock up at the pub and only then did we know what or where we were going. It was great. No responsibilities, no planning and a head full of laughs and bad jokes.

Hangovers were short-lived things that were over after a trip to a  greasy spoon cafe and some fresh air. By mid to late morning the party animal instinct beckoned me back to a pub or place for lunch to hang out with old and new friends.

Yes we got into trouble and dodgy scrapes but not to the point of being customers of our Boys in Blue or spending an evening in their spartan accommodation cells. It was all good fun and the few tears that were experienced were soon sorted.

There were abundant places to visit with varied entertainment or just a plain old juke box. None of this anal commercial pipped crap one  has to endure today.

There were seats and chair galore and landlords kept bars well and service was quick and slick. Snacks were just that, snacks and none  of this gastronomy pap thats served and accepted today.

Work was something that paid for the going out and that was it. Jobs were abundant and wages were just about okay.

Life was Good.

Scroll forward thirty years and those days seem distant memories and stories from another person.

Going out now is different. Not bad or hard but different. Complicated is too harsh a description, its just less easy.

Before I even wash the new fangled text machine (in the form of a mobile phone) is employed to see if any stalwart friends are up for a chat and or a pint.

So after washing and finding something that still fits and choosing a jacket to meet the seasons challenges its feed the dog, check the house is secure and nothing is going to cause damage.remove the front door key from the masses of other keyring adornments one has to carry on a daily basis and grab the phone.

Thats just for a few hours on the town. An overnight stay with friends or a short break requires some luxuries  now. A small bag and bedding along with a camp bed are needed nowadays. Gone are sleeping on floors, park benches or in doorways with only a trusted jacket for warmth and comfort. A bed with blankets and pillow is a basic requirement today.

Then there is the arrangements for dog sitting, time off work when everyone else is available, getting there (as friends live miles apart now) and where to stay. What are we going to do? So many pubs and attractions have closed down and the offerings are far from entertaining in this modern age.

Hangovers are not only something for the morning, they can linger for several days until the aging organs can process the alien liquids so freely taken the day before. Oh and the aches and pains seem magnified after a night of gay abandonment which was actually and quiet chat down the boozer with some equally old gits as myself.

Work today is lucky. It still holds little fun but is affords one responsibility to pay mortgages, utility bills and food costs. What little is left can be frugally given aside for social gatherings. Spontaneous actions are ruled by work as holding a job now is hard and they are few are between. Better play it safe to be on the right side of reason.

I don’t feel different from the person I was thirty years ago but I know I am.

Older, grey and thinner on top, fatter, less fit (but can still jog 6-7 miles in the hour and cycle 30 odd miles), more forgetful, less dynamic and maybe a little more grumpy.

Wiser?? I know more but does that make me wise?

So there we have it. Going out and how it changes and changes oneself over the years.