What?
What?
WHAT?
Why the hell is everyone mumbling???
What’s the difference between a baby and an old man?
Depends.
I am so sorry to hear this. You have my fullest sympathy.
They say you lose your memory when you get older. There was something else I was going to post here but I forgot what it was.
I was flipping through the radio stations today and had to admit: “I’m officially old. It all just sounds like* noise *to me.”
I have arthritis in my hands (osteo). I’m* twenty-fucking-nine *! I’m a little pissed about it, in case you didn’t notice. I only discovered my True Calling within the last few years and it requires dextrous hands.
I thank whatever gods may be that my eyes are still in good shape. If I lost the ability to read, that’d be the end of me.
Thanks, Khadaji
Having a child who’s now officially in his twenties. Ouch.
Of course I have no intention of being old. Hell, I just joined a rock band! 
I have no intention of being old, either. My oldest child is off to college. That makes me feel old.
But I became an EMT a year ago and am now in class to become a firefighter. That’ll keep me young.
Or kill me.
[raised eyebrow]
Oh, reeeeeally?
Sounds positively wicked, doesn’t it?
Loud music isn’t exciting any more. It’s just annoying.
(Says the old fart with tinnitus from too much loud music when he was younger.)
I NEVER liked heavy-metal/headbanger "music’-even when i was young! I always found loud music painful to my ears-that’s why i can still hear! I understand that people as young as 18 are now showing up for hearing aids, because they have destroyed their ears 9listening beyond the threshold of damage).
Yeah, I understand a lot of OTO specialists are very concerned about the sound levels that music is played at these days. Greater and greater amounts of hearing damage keep showing up at younger and younger ages. The iPod phenomenon–earphones are particularly dangerous when it comes to hearing damage; that’s basically how I blew out my ears–seems to be of special concern to them, 'cuz some folks are basically spending every waking moment exposing themselves to dangerous levels of noise.
When you remember the birth of people who are now making names for themselves doing what their parents did (Jakob Dylan? Rufus Wainwright? Scott Schwartz?)
Take a mineral supplement, specifically one that contains copper, potassium, and selenium. Especially if you live in the south.
Anyway, try it.
Filthy-minded geezers, the both of you!
I’m talking about my job. I clean artifacts in a museum: probably the least sexy job you can have!
Well, you can clean my artifact any time you want.
My step-brother who was just diagnosed with cancer has a son (his eldest, at 17) who they’ve been having nothing but trouble with. He thinks he is the bomb. Anyway, my folks decided to intervene and teach Jake that he’s not all that. So, they turned to me to go scope out some teenie bopper magazines to find a picture of some boy that all makes the girls squeel, then point it out to him with a “When you look even remotely like that, then you can preen!” to (hopefully) curb his pissy attitude.
Me after doing this deed: I can’t buy one of those publications for you. All those kids look like 6 year old girls and I absolutely do NOT want to call any of them hot!
Yep. I gotcher cranberry pills right here. Or over there by my higher powered light bulb. All the better to read with, right? 
But the one I’m not ready to face the most? When I cross over into the next group of ages on forms that you have to fill out. Right now, I’m still under the 40+ group and dammit, I’d like to stay there. 
Really? Will this make them go away or prevent new ones?
Thanks.
I’ve been using that sort of coin purse for well over forty years. (Generally it generates no comments–I believe the last time anyone remarked on it was a cashier in Ireland in July, 1973–but, ironically, the young cashier at the grocery store exclaimed, just yesterday, that her dad had one just like it. Based on her apparent age, I am older than he is.)
Actually, I have always heard that the first sign of aging is. . . uh. . . I have forgotten.