Long live the Pope, maybe, but somehow I don?t think so. From the moment he staggered onto the balcony of St Peter?s in a puff of smoke, I felt his days were numbered.

And that is how it should be. I?ve no desire to meet him. I don?t think I?d be entirely comfortable in a fireside chat with someone who didn?t think I had the makings of a priest.

Besides, the old should giveth way to the new. A younger Pope is devoutly to be wished for.

April?s been pretty much International Old Age Month, hasn?t it? First Benedict XVI. Then Sudarshan saying what he did about you-know-who. Then you-know-who agreeing with him that he was no babe-in-arms. Then, Advani entering the picture, all observations withdrawn and a revolting exhibition of affection on all sides. Who likes to watch wrinkled old men ? or women ? kiss and make up?

Or, for that matter, get married? When Charles and Camilla got hitched (a second marriage, they say, is the triumph of hope over experience) at an age when they should both have taken up knitting and playing with grandchildren, it was a lot like the Theatre of the Absurd.

Charles would have done well to have worn his uniform as he did last time round. It would have been more becoming to his years and rank. He opted, instead, for an absurd suit, leaving spectators free to inspect his thinning hair while he apologised for having committed adultery with Camilla, while marrying the subject of his crime at the same time.

The paunchy old bat standing next to him (in a dress the colour of virginal ivory, if you please) had hands that trembled visibly for all to see. It?s a wonder anyone kept a straight face that day. Even the worshipful dabbawallahs couldn?t stop giggling behind their hands.

Especially when, as the couple stepped outside to greet the crowd ? whose number you could count on your fingers ? the breeze blew Camilla?s hair up and her hat threatened to abandon her head altogether, causing her to cling to it.

What?s wrong with the shape of her head? Later, at an outdoor reception in windier Scotland, there she was, in head-clutching mode again. Does age make you lose your hat ? like it makes you lose your memory?

Clearly, it is time for the young, with good heads ? and memories ? to take over the crowns and the thrones.

If only I could remember where I put my glasses.