I’m 69 and starting to believe I’ll make it to 70; 71 is a little problematic. I hope to find some peace and quiet; if I can do that, I’ll consider my life a success.
For any gay man my age, the really heartbreaking thing is remembering all the friends who died from AIDS back in the 80s, and I’m having to face old age without them.
When you’re over the hill, you pick up speed.
Part of a poem that I recall:
I cannot chew,
I cannot screw,
I cannot see,
I cannot pee./
The golden years have come at last?
The golden years can kiss my ass!