Benefits to Getting Old

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The age range of woman I find attractive gets bigger each year… which gets me closer and closer to asking Helen Mirren out.

I do great in twentieth century history on Jeopardy because I was there for most of it.

I can explain how life was very different before the internet to younger people if I want them to go away.

No one expects my personal stories to follow a single cohesive plot line, anymore.

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”…

If I fall down, everyone gives me a few minutes to lie there like an inverted turtle made of beached whales.

I no longer have to worry about anyone wanting to see me naked… or at all, for that matter…

My memories are adjustable, now. Recently, it took my family weeks to persuade me that I am NOT the son of Popeye.

Most of my caloric intake comes from medication.

I can still enjoy spicy foods as long as I don’t eat any of them.

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.

My autobiography is now a lot larger than it used to be… especially after adding back the section where I am raised by Popeye.

16 thoughts on “Benefits to Getting Old

      1. 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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  1. 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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      1. 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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  2. “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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  3. 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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