Let misanthrope Ebenezer Scrooge fend off Christmas giving for all he’s worth — for my money, the humbug that refuses to be set aside and saved for another time is old age. This is not to shortchange fate’s other humbugs (such as incurable diseases and pompous politicians) — old age is like a bad penny: once one aproaches one’s November-December years, it won’t stay away, no matter how august one feels.
Having resigned myself to that venerable state of longevity,
I now find myself amenable to stating my stages with levity:
First, you forget names.
Then, you forget faces (& toil to let out feces).
Next, you forget to pull up your zipper.
Last, you forget to pull it down.
At age 4, success is….not peeing in your pants.
At age 12, success is…having friends.
At age 16, success is…having a driver’s license.
At age 19, success is…having sex.
At age 40, success is…making a lot of money.
At age 50, success is…making a lot of money.
At age 65. success is…having sex.
At age 78, success is…having a driver’s license.
At age 80, success is…having friends.
At age 84, success is…not peeing in your pants.
The trouble with old age is there’s not much future in it.
An old person is someone who is ten years older than you are.
You know you’re getting old if…
…5 a.m. is when you get up, not when you go to bed.
…you finally get your head together and your body starts falling apart.
…you give up all your bad habits and you still don’t feel good.
…you sink your teeth into a steak, and they stay there.
… you wake up looking like your driver’s license picture (unless you’ve always woken up looking like your driver’s license picture).
…you can’t remember how you were going to end this post, so you end it like this.