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The oldest AnswerBank-er ?

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CompNut | 11:35 Wed 26th Apr 2006 | People & Places
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I used to think there was a natural cut-off point for understanding modern technology (i.e. computers etc.) at around age 70-ish. But recently I was speaking to a lady (83 and mentally sharp tho' disabled physically) who spends a lot of her time using her computer, sending e-mails to relatives throughout the world, and who frequently 'pops into' AB for crossword answers.
So, are there any other seniors in their 80's amongst us or is this lady the eldest AB-er?
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Im thousands of years old
my sons great papa is 87 and although not an answer banker, he does have a pc which he uses daily for all sorts of things.
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Thanks, kick, it seems 87 year old great-papa is winning the 'title' at the moment!


*Zeus*, come off it, we all know you've had a dip in the Fountain of Youth, to stay the young, virile god that the girlies expect you to be !
lol....I've thought of telling him to try AB, but then you know, not sure I want him to twig who I am (which I think he would), and what I've been posting about.....lol
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Yeah, kick, it is great to feel free to say/chat what one likes, I agree. So don't tell grand-papa about AB !

Not on AB, but I worked in a care home a few years ago and had to help a fella set up t'internet in his bungalow - he was 93 at the time! This was about 6 years ago though, if he is still around he would be nearly 100 and still online. Might be worth looking him up just to find out.....!

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Well, natalie,
93 beats all, so far! Good on the ol' fella....
I just hope he wasn't signing on with a dating agency!!
If you can follow the dialect this poem may answer your query. I came across it in a book of dialect poems many years ago. I think the writer -- E A Lodge -- was a Lancastrian but the theme applies the world over, and I'm sure will ever be so. It's title is "Then An' Nae":

When I were but a striplin'
An' bare a scoor year owd,
I thowt I'd gotten brains enuff
To fill all t'yeds i' t'fowd.

I used to roor wi' laffin'
At t'sharpness o' mi wit,
An' a joke I made one Kersmiss
Threw mi nuncle in a fit.

I used to think mi mother
Were a hundred year behund;
An' mi father - well, mi father
Nobbut fourteen aence to t'pund.

An' I often turned it ovver,
But I ne'er could fairly see
Yaeiver sich owd cronies
Could hae bred a chap like me.

An' whene'er they went to t'market,
I put mi fillin's in;
Whol mi father used to stop me
Wi' "Prithee, hold thy din.

"Does ta think we're nobbut childer,
Wi' as little sense as thee?
When thy advice is wanted,
We'st axe thee, does ta see?"

But they gate it, wilta, shalta,
An' I did mi level best
To change their flea-blown notions,
Whol their yeds were laid to t'west.

This happened thirty year sin;
Nae I've childer o' mi own,
At's gotten cheek to tell me
At I'M a bit flea-blown!

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