December 21, 2025
I was recently traveling in Florida, which naturally got me thinking about getting older. In Florida, it’s hard to think about anything else. Over the years, I have crafted some observations about the aging process. I believe they are all original, but I won’t swear to it. In this age of AI, it is becoming more and more difficult to be truly original. One of the benefits of aging, however, is that it becomes increasingly difficult to remember what is original and what is plagiarism. If any of these sound vaguely familiar, please let my editor know.
What passes for polite conversation amongst adults invariably degenerates into discussions about ailments, real or imagined. I would rather hear about your grandchildren.
I finally realized that Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man was not about racial discrimination. It was about me.
Ovaltine, polio, and “Leave it to Beaver” were not that great.
I hate it when someone can’t pick me out of an old photograph.
When checking into a hotel, I immediately grab the bed closest to the bathroom.
One of the best days of my life was when I threw away all my combs.
I realized that the only thing separating me from dementia is the completion of the Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle. That’s pressure.
When setting goals, I check my wristwatch before my calendar? The fact that I still have a wristwatch is telling.
They say that the more money you have, the better looking you get. Great. Now I am both old and ugly.
I am at the point where financial planning and retirement planning are the same thing?
Do you find Viagra ads to be embarrassing because you don’t need it, or because you do?
If life were a baseball game, I would have rounded third, and am heading for home. I am hoping to get caught in a rundown.
4:30AM used to be the end of my day. Now it is the beginning.
I rate the quality of my day on a “Zero-to-Five Sir’ scale. A “Zero Sir” day is a great day. A “Five Sir” day is a sign of the apocalypse.
There is nothing sexy about being 50 shades of gray.
I know what golf tees I am playing. You are not fooling me by changing their colors or names.
As long as you are climbing the hill, you can’t be over it.
I spend a lot more time in the bathroom with a lot worse results.
I am afraid I will say, “Do I know you from some place,?” and then realize that you are my next door neighbor.
Exercising is a lot like finalizing an estate plan. They are both about tying up loose ends.
Aging is about tightening up what’s loose, and loosening up what’s tight.
I am not getting better. I am getting older.
I used to twist and shout. Now I shout when I twist.
If I were to pass away, it would be unfortunate, but not a tragedy.
My unexpected bathroom breaks are now totally expected.
I took five years of Latin, but I still hate all the drug ads.
Legalization of marijuana came fifty years too late.
I am closer to Kevork’ing than cavorting.
I now know what the first hole in my belt is for.
I want to shoot my age before I get too old.
I have lost track of all the things I keep track of.
The yards I have lost from the tee I have gained in my pants.
I often learn more about people at their funerals than I do at their dinner tables.
I have a small chance of making a putt, and an even smaller chance of bending down to take the ball out of the hole.
You can always tell the year someone retired by their wardrobe.
I am better at finding weight than losing weight.
I used to be able to see farther than I could hit a golf ball.
On my gravestone…You’re Still Away
I just figured out what the third thing to go is.
Age is not an excuse, but it sure explains a lot.
There is death after life.
You are only old once.
Wisdom is wasted on the elderly.
How will you know if exercise helped you to live longer?
Inheritance is all about the war between the estates.
It’s not near death experiences I crave; it’s near life experiences.
If it wasn’t for my pill box, I wouldn’t know what day it is.
There is a good chance that some Gen Z’er will misspell RIP on my gravestone.
Another day, another dolor.
The Spin Doctor 