(Well. Have only just noticed that last post. Needless to say it wasn't me.)
Today I finally got round to starting my first assignment: interviewing the elderly about their earliest memories. I wandered around Bournemouth for a long time before eventually plucking up the courage to talk to someone, who knew I was so deathly afraid of strangers?!
A nice lady answered my questions, and I confessed that I had clocked an adorable, hat wearing, paper reading old man but was too nervous to interrupt him. 'Just do it! Honestly he'll just be happy to have someone to talk to!' was her response, and so, brimming with oap infused confidence, I went for it.
Half an hour and his entire life story later, and I was done. He was called Derek. Derek did not understand the concept of one early memory, but I was too interested to stop him. He lost an eye during the war. His father was the director of paramount. Derek, was awesome. I think interviewing old people is my new favourite thing.
I worry for a time when future journalism students face similar tasks, and all I can answer with is, 'well I spent a lot of time on the Internet really...' Derek flew planes in the war, I watched several seasons of cougar town in one summer. Derek started his own design business, I discovered that if you layer the cheese on nachos you really enhance the experience.
Turns out Derek has a house in Cyprus. Had he asked me to move there with him I think I may have said yes.
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