Andale! Andale!

Listening to BBC Radio Wales in the car this morning on my around-Swansea hunt for gluten-free wraps. I dislike Owen Money but he plays good music, the music of my generation. It's largely a request show and most of the requests are for birthdays for people who are in their sixties and seventies.
'What a lot of old people,' I was thinking when it occurred to me that I am of that age, that era, one of them.

But I'm not old!

But if someone on the radio says, 'I'd like this played is for my husband, Johnny, who's sixty-five today,' I don't relate to that. It's like a block in my brain. Sixty-five is old. I am sixty-five but I am not old. Everyone else may be but not me.

Incidentally if you see the word underlay do you immediately start saying, 'Underlay, underlay, underlay'?

Not that I'm old or anything.