WHAT SHALL I SAY TO EILEEN?

Big decisions are coming up! My 2-year contract with Vodafone has expired and now I have to decide whether to have a Blackberry or stick to the bog-standard mobile phone which is functioning well enough at the moment. The occasional problems I have experienced can be put down to 'user error'.

But these telephone companies are clever. They never tell you when the contract expires - and you go on happily paying the bill each month when you could be saving money. My contract ended three months ago; I ring up Vodafone and ask for a new telephone and a new deal. Bingo. I can do that for £10 which is less than half what I have been paying - and would continue to pay unless I had called their sales office.

That's clever. They keep taking the money yet know all the time that you could have exactly the same service for far less - plus an upgraded telephone. But they keep quiet and rake in as much as they can until you make the first move.

Now that's what some people call good business practice. I would call it sharp practice. They should look at the data on all calls and texts you have made during the contract period, realise that you would benefit from a new telephone and a cheaper tariff and do something about it. That's what customer service means to me.

Now what about this Blackberry? Do I need one? Will I be persuaded by Eileen at the sales office to go for it? Clearly I will not use all the gadgets and facilities it has to offer but maybe I should go with the technology. Don't want to be seen in a railway carriage making a call on a piece of equipment that is 18 months out-of-date do I?

So I shall think about it carefully. It would be nice to show off with a new Blackberry Curve but I'm not sure. What shall I say when Eileen rings back? Watch this space.

HOW DO I GET A MAGIC BLUE BADGE?

Those people who park badly on double-yellow lines at awkward and often dangerous places seem to have very little consideration for the rest of the population. They get away with it because prominently displayed on the dashboard is - the blue badge!

Until now I have considered these people to be taking liberties; abusing the system; able to get this special dispensation to avoid paying parking fees or getting one of those dreaded tickets from a Parking Enforcement Officer. Now I am having second thoughts! If you can't beat 'em - join 'em!

My old legs aren't doing too badly at 70 but that accident I had as a 15-year-old boy when I fell down a cliff in Devon (see reference in Torbay lifeboat station!) is now coming back to give me a bit of pain. Smashing your ankle as a youth was a bit of a setback but a combination of a skin graft, a bone graft and the surgeon's skill managed to get me through the next 55 years. They said I would have arthritis at 40 and walk with a stick - but that has been avoided, just.

Now I'm wondering. The old leg is playing up more often than usual. Driving a car is not a problem; it's the walk at the other end of the journey which can be a bit painful. A limping old man in Leigh-on-Sea is not a pretty sight.

So I am going to see whether my situation qualifies for one of those park-anywhere Blue Disability badges. I shall fill in the forms and send them to the relevant disability monitoring service, no doubt a department that ticks boxes and goes by the rules. Do I have to write an eloquent piece to support my case? Probably - but no porky pies allowed!

So watch this space. The application will be submitted soon accompanied by a polite and sensible letter. Surely they won't say no to my request. Can it be any harder that getting tickets for Centre Court at Wimbledon on a FA Cup Final? Will they throw out the forms if I make one slight error?

This is a big moment in my life. I have to use all my life experience and common sense to persuade these people, whoever they are, that I have a justified case for a disability badge. Wish they wouldn't call it that, though. I much prefer 'Mobility and Life Enhancing Accreditation'. I won't be suggesting that just yet!

ANYONE FOR TENNIS, CRICKET, FOOTBALL..?

This is the time of the year when grand-parenting duties and grand-parenting visits are taking place up and down the country. But if you think this is the time for relaxation - then think again. When you get the invitation to go on holiday with children and grand-children it sounds like a challenge you shouldn't turn down; by the time the week or fortnight is over you are exhausted - and needing a real holiday.

The problem is that grandchildren, especially the pre-teens, don't realise that you can't play tennis like Roger Federer, cricket like Flintoff or football like Beckham. It's flattering to know that you have a reputation for fun and activity but the truth is nowhere near the image. It's tiring and exhausting just trying to keep up with all that's going on and finally you finish up counting the hours and days when you are back in the quiet and comfort of your own home.

Of course we all get a lot of pleasure from grand-children - most of the time - but it's just as enjoyable putting your feet up after they've gone. That is when we all have time to think about what sort of a world they will inherit. What are we leaving them?

The poverty, violence, sadness and hardship which were all part of wartime Britain are still with us. The answers have not been found and there seem no solutions to these problems, certainly not in the short term. We tried, or some did, and failed. Today there will be crowds lining the streets of Wootton Bassett to pay homage to young, brave men who lost their lives in Afghanistan. Memories of World War Two will still be there for the older people paying their silent respects. Where have we gone wrong?

Our young people, our grandchildren, are ambitious, enthusiastic and determined. They are innocent now but so were we once upon a time. We have to hope that they are not disillusioned by what is happening in the world today and feel inspired and excited by the future. Individually we may be proud of what we have achieved in the past 70 years; collectively we have fallen short of the goals and targets that we set ourselves in the pre-war years.

The banner passed to our children; now it goes to their children - to our grandchildren. They can still imagine becoming second Federers, Flintoffs and Beckhams. Let's hope they succeed at that and in the wider world arena of life.