The age range of woman I find attractive gets bigger each year… which gets me closer and closer to asking Helen Mirren out.
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I do great in twentieth century history on Jeopardy because I was there for most of it.
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I can explain how life was very different before the internet to younger people if I want them to go away.
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No one expects my personal stories to follow a single cohesive plot line, anymore.
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I don’t enjoy anything anymore. So “painless” gets promoted to “enjoyment”; “somewhat painful” gets promoted to “painless” and “agonizing pain” gets promoted to “rough afternoon”…
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If I fall down, everyone gives me a few minutes to lie there like an inverted turtle made of beached whales.
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I no longer have to worry about anyone wanting to see me naked… or at all, for that matter…
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My memories are adjustable, now. Recently, it took my family weeks to persuade me that I am NOT the son of Popeye.
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Most of my caloric intake comes from medication.
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I can still enjoy spicy foods as long as I don’t eat any of them.
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I can get chatty with a cashier and she won’t think I’m trying to pick her up… even if I’m trying to pick her up.
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My autobiography is now a lot larger than it used to be… especially after adding back the section where I am raised by Popeye.
Potatoes and the Promise of More Potatoes 
But you were raised by Popeye C.
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In a sense, I was. My dad was a sailor who got into a LOT of fights. I got to see a few of them…
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There you go. I’m sure there’s a post in that memory. 10 things not to do when your Father’s a sailor
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I likewise do great in 20th century history on Jeopardy!, but don’t know any 21st century artists and celebrities. I suspect this is a hidden benefit because I’ve managed to live a lot longer without further cluttering my brain.
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I don’t even try on anyone music artist after 1995… My son is thirty and even he can’t keep track of the wackos over the last seventeen years.
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I’ve been saying for years that I don’t know any music after 1997, but maybe you’re right; maybe it’s 1995.
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There were some great bands in the nineties so the nineties must be included in the music we remember. I remember dancing to RHCP’s “Fight Like a Brave” with my two boys, one walking but still in pullups… Dancing like American Indians…
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I haven’t had a painless day in two years. As for seeing me naked… that’s a whole different kind of pain these days.
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I know! And yet, it’s the younger people getting addicted to opiates. After sixty, they should dispense them to you for free…
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I’ll skip the opiates, but a free bottle of gin now and then would be nice…
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“The age range of woman I find attractive gets bigger each year…” Oh hell yea. For the life of me, I can’t remember why I was so “picky” years ago,,,”I don’t enjoy anything anymore.” This is also true…but I spend my time searching to that “excitement” and “joy” to return. What will do it? A walk on the beach or a strip club? Nothing?
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That enjoyable thing might be something we both missed and is buried somewhere in a Craigslist ad. The hunt is on!
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Just the general lowered expectations of people enable us to do what we want more of the time. Other stuff we either “can’t” do or “forgot” to do. 😉
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Many of those really are quite positive points! 🤣🤣🤣
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When life gives you lemons, ask yourself, “When did I buy lemons???”
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No one expects my personal stories to follow a single cohesive plot line, anymore. — This is my favorite. One of my biggest pet peeves was a friend’s dad would start telling a story and the story would build so that you’d think it had a very climatic ending. But, then he’d just stop talking. There was no point. He was just repeating a random fact from his childhood and the story would drop. If you asked him, “And then…what happened?” He’d say, “what do you mean?”
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