IT was my birthday this week – my 46th to be precise – and I'm pleased to report Thursday's celebration makes me one day younger than the Antipodean pop princess herself Kylie Minogue.
Why have I told you that I'm 46?
Well it's because I really don't understand why people are so reluctant to reveal their age as they get older.
You see it in the Derby Telegraph all the time because it is part of our training as journalists – John Smith, 32, a Rolls-Royce engineer of London Road, Alvaston.
I even find myself sometimes pussy-footing around people when I interview them for stories.
"That's great Olive, now do you mind if I ask you how old you are please?"
"That's a personal question to ask a lady," might come the reply. "I'm 54 but don't put my age in the paper."
Well why not?
Why don't everyday folk want other people to know how old they are?
It's like they are embarrassed at their ageing and I don't understand it.
After all, there isn't a single shred of scientific evidence to show a person getting any younger as in the story line of the fantasy Hollywood movie, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.
For those that haven't seen it, lead actor Brad Pitt plays a man who ages in reverse, starting life as an old man and finishing it as an infant.
So why are people so touchy about their age?
Is it because in their own heads they like to think they look or act younger than the number of years they have clocked up?
Well if that's the case, good for you. I often have a joie de vivre, or mischievous side, that makes me feel like I'm still 25 but the plain fact is that I'm not and I don't, for one minute, pretend that I am.
Whether it is jumping around at a music concert or running around a football pitch, I'm under no illusions that my middle-aged body isn't as fit as it used to be and the Cruyff turns I've been failing to perfect for the past 35 years become increasingly more difficult to master.
Similarly, old sporting injuries restrict me these days to fewer minutes riding my bike as I do my utmost to keep myself active.
The days of jumping on the old steed in the morning and returning at tea time are now limited to an hour or so as the right knee begins to click a dozen or so miles in.
She won't thank me for saying this but one of the news editors here even has a false date of birth set on her Facebook account as she continues to deny she's what is historically termed "the wrong side of 40".
So, for example, you're approaching 40 and a sense of dread approaches you as you start to contemplate what you have or haven't achieved in life.
The indestructibility you had as a teenager morphs into the realisation of your own mortality and you begin to look at your body and start to understand that the skin might not be as tight as it once was around the bones.
Well don't worry about it because those that are closest to you won't give two hoots about an expanding waistline or a few wrinkles around the eyes.
They'll love you for who you are.
Now get out and enjoy yourself.
