Don’t blame the 1950s baby boomers for the mess we’re in now!

At least, that’s the case if you believe the outpourings of assorted academics – and even a bishop – who have been heaping blame on the greying or totally bald heads of those who emerged squalling into the grim post-war world in those years that followed 1945.

My g-g-g-generation has been accused of benefiting from well-paid jobs for life, rising house values, posher cars, exotic holidays and inflation-proof pensions, leaving the younger folk to pick up the tab.

What hokum! Yes, we’ve grown up in exciting times, with Elvis, The Beatles, InterCity trains and moon landings, but we also suffered Lulu and Engelbert Humperdinck, fourth-hand Austin 1100s that rotted away and Stones’ Brew Ten that gave you a thick head.

Seriously, we worked hard for all that stuff and we paid our dues.

I’ve paid my taxes since my first £10-a-week job in 1968. It’s not my fault that it’s been spent on keeping Ian Brady alive while killing Iraqis and Afghans.

And I’ve paid my National Insurance. Note the name; INSURANCE. Like any insurance, you pay into the scheme in the hope it will pay out as and when you need it, like when you’re sick, unemployed or old.

It’s not my fault the money has already been wasted and the pot is empty, waiting for young taxpayers and student-loan repayers to refill it.

And like many other boomers, I’m still shelling out to help my grown-up children.

So please don’t blame me or “us” for messing things up, blame “them”:

The politicians who promise us all jam tomorrow and act only for themselves and their well-heeled chums.

The fat cat bankers who devour enormous bonuses while producing nothing and getting the taxpayer to bail them out.

The bosses of multi-national companies who reckon that even the lousiest jobs can be done more cheaply and switch the work to ill-paid slaves in Third World sweatshops.

These people may be baby boomers, or more likely, they’re from the later “me first” generation. What unites them is greed and lack of conscience.

They love it when the rest of us forget we’re in it together and play the blame game; blame the immigrants, blame the Jews, blame the young folk, blame the old folk.

Oh, what the hell, blame Eric.