Oops, they’re here, the fateful fifties. And once you’ve gone past that fearful watershed, everything changes. The Big Job begins that will keep you busy for the next decades: exorcize the fear of getting old, and it’s a long, laborious business. You buy a record player so you can listen again to the LPs you luckily didn’t throw out; you fix the scooter you had at 14 so you can listen again to those 4 strokes; you think about the songs from the Zecchino d’Oro, the ones you listened to when you were a kid; you go past your old high school, recalling the anxiety of the final exams; you organize dinners with friends you’ve lost contact with so you can play at who’s worse off. And that’s not all: one fine day you find out that without glasses you can’t read the cooking time on the package of pasta (is it actually there?); you decide to take the whole family to London, to Abbey Road, to take the most famous picture in the world on the pedestrian crossing; your eyes tear up when you see an elderly tourist couple at the table next to yours in a little Roman restaurant being loving with each other. Then, you go back home in the evening and find a broken dishwasher, screaming kids, the cleaning lady threatening to quit and your wife in a foul temper, but you tell her «We’re going out tonight» and suddenly you see her smile. At that exact moment you understand everything is fine and the years haven’t passed in vain.