A passing phase

“Phase One”, said my invitation. I worry about phases. At least, I worry ever since my dear wife had a word about me to my dear Mum. I was 38 at the time; the advice from dear Mother was plain; “Don’t worry dear, he is just going through a phase”. “What at 38?” “Yes of course!” And I tell you this I am still going through phase upon phase. Come to think of it, I am going through another one right now. And damn it, I very nearly told you what it is . . . but won’t.

‘Phase One’, what’s that? Oh, said my editor, it’s a sort of shindig for the younger end of Building readers organised by Building. So I came. Well, you would, wouldn’t you! And give or take the odd ‘crumbly’ or two, there were 200 or so Phase Oners. I then looked a tad more. If ‘Phase One’ is supposed to be those youngsters who are, well, at ‘Phase One’, I asked myself how old I was in my day when I was at phase one. I put it a fraction younger than this group of shin-diggers. Hell, a good number hovered just above and just below the 30 threshold. Three beautiful young ladies gently and separately interrogated by yours truly revealed a two-year margin to 30. A few fellas I spoke to were just 2 years over the threshold. More like ‘Phase Two’ I muttered. And blow me, a fraction more interrogation, revealed that this Phase 30 group were already holding down some weighty job titles. At 30, these so called lads and lasses are in hugely responsible jobs. In a few minutes time ‘Phase One’ will be running the whole show, not just part.

And are we in good hands? Oh yes. I even think in talking to ‘Phase Oners’ that they are not going to make the same mistakes that us Phase Crumblies did. I do so want them to make different mistakes. Honest. Oh for heavens sake don’t stifle this group. Reduce the regulations, reduce the rules, let our ‘Phase Oners’ come up with bright new ideas . . . refresh construction . . . before they become ‘Phase two’ or more, or more. We crumblies are in good hands.