You've reached the difficult age when you're too tired to work and too poor to quit

You're getting old when you spend more talking to your druggist than you do to your bartender

As long as you can count your gray hairs, they don't count

You're still chasing women but can't remember why

You sit in a rocking chair and can't get it going

You know all the answers, but nobody asks you the questions

You walk with your head high trying to get used to your bifocals

You sink your teeth into a steak and they stay there

Everything starts to wear out, fall out or spread out

You find yourself using one bend over to pick up two things

The freedom you enjoy from life insurance salesmen

You become exhausted by people telling you how they spent their evening

For every man over sixty five there are seven women--but by then it's too late

When you begin to think that your grey hairs aren't premature