On the week when I (finally) got hold of
my pension the nice people at Lablogatory sent their update somewhat
co-incidentally reminiscing
about the good old days.
I remember the good old days. I
originally wrote a diatribe about how things were so much better forty years
ago… but then remembered a conversation with the boss at the time who said he
was legally obliged to recommend that I join the pension scheme but he felt he would
make the observation that people in this line of work usually died aged
fifty-seven from something nasty they caught from the job. Was this true? “Uncle
Cyril” actually told me that, and I took him at his word.
I’ll make the observation that had we had
today’s health and safety legislation back then we wouldn’t have used
post-mortem material to make reagents. And one of the girls with whom I went to
college probably would still be alive.
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