On the way out.

It is now nearly 75 years since I left home to go away to a boarding school. One those places called public schools, which are anything but. The structure of the school was straightforward, you ate, slept, and studied in a boarding house and attended classes in the main buildings. On your way to classes in the morning, you would have to pass inspection by a group of Senior Inferiors. Boys, there were no girls in the school, in those days,probably in their third or fourth year, who had not achieved the status of prefects. They would check that our hair was brushed, our black leather shoes polished and our black jackets unflawed by dust or detritus. Any flaw would result on being sent back inside to fix it. It was meant to inculcate a lifetime sense of tidiness and elegance. such as can be observed in my normal appearance these days.

At present we live in a four storey apartment building which is largely occupied by retired people although there are some younger ones on the ground floor. When you leave the building by the main door you have to run through a sort of gauntlet compiled of various people with nothing to do o waiting for drivers to take them somewhere. It would be very bad manners to ignore them so one is obliged to exchange comments with them so it really is running the gauntlet like the one with the senior inferiors back at school. Fortunately the observers have no authority to send me back to change.