WHAT IS SUCCESS?

It Depends...

At age 4, success is not peeing in your pants

At age 16, success is "gettin' a little"

At age 25, success is graduation and a wedding

At age 35, success is about career and family

At age 55, success is about graduations and weddings

At age 65, success is "gettin' a little"

At age 90, success is not peeing in your pants

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50/50 RELATIONSHIP

A young man saw an elderly couple sitting down to lunch at McDonald's.

He noticed that they had ordered one meal, and an extra drink cup. As he watched, the gentleman carefully divided the hamburger in half, then counted out the fries, one for him, one for her, until each had half of them. Then he poured half of the soft drink into the extra cup and set that in front of his wife. The old man then began to eat, and his wife sat watching, with her hands folded in her lap.

The young man decided to ask if they would allow him to purchase another meal for them so that they didn't have to split theirs.

The old gentleman said, "Oh no. We've been married 50 years, and everything has always been and will always be shared, 50/50."

The young man then asked the wife if she was going to eat. She replied, "Not yet. It's his turn with the teeth."

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RAISING THE DEAD

An elderly couple is watching one of those television preachers on TV one night. The preacher faces the camera, and announces,

"My friends, I'd like to share my healing powers with everyone watching this program. Place one hand on top of your TV & the other hand on the part of your body which ails you & I will heal you."

The old woman has been having terrible stomach problems, so she places one hand on the television, and her other hand on her stomach.

Meanwhile, her husband approaches the television, placing one hand on top of the TV and his other hand on his groin.

With a frown his wife says, "Ernest, he's talking about healing the sick, not raising the dead.

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THE PRIVELEGES OF AGE

I've sure gotten old.

I've had 2 By-pass surgeries. A hip replacement, new knees. Fought prostate cancer, and diabetes. I'm half blind, can't hear anything quieter than a jet engine, take 40 different medications that make me dizzy, winded, and subject to blackouts. Have bouts with dementia. Have poor circulation, hardly feel my hands and feet anymore. Can't remember if I'm 85 or 92. Have lost all my friends.

But.....Thank God, I still have my Florida driver's license!

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YOU KNOW YOU'RE GETTING OLDER WHEN...

Everything hurts and what doesn't hurt, doesn't work.

The gleam in your eyes is from the sun hitting your bifocals.

You feel like the night after, and you haven't been anywhere.

Your little black book contains only names ending in M.D.

You get winded playing chess.

Your children begin to look middle aged.

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

A dripping faucet causes an uncontrollable bladder urge.

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

You look forward to a dull evening.

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

Your favorite part of the newspaper is "25 Years Ago Today..."

You turn out the light for economic reasons rather than romantic ones.

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

Your knees buckle and your belt won't.

You regret all those mistakes resisting temptation.

After painting the town red, you have to take a long rest before applying a second coat.

Dialing long distance wears you out.

You're startled the first time you are addressed as an old timer.

You just can't stand people who are intolerant.

The best part of your day is over when your alarm clock goes off.

You burn the midnight oil until 9 p.m.

Your back goes out more often than you do.

A fortuneteller offers to read your face.

Your pacemaker makes the garage door go up when you watch a pretty girl go by.

The little gray-haired lady you help across the street is your wife.

You have too much room in the house and not enough room in the medicine cabinet.

You sink your teeth into a steak and they stay there.

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LIVING TO BE 100

An old woman was walking along the street when she heard a voice telling her..."You will live to be over 100." She looked around...but no one else seemed to have heard the voice. Then she heard it again, "You will live to be over 100." Again she looked around, and again, no one else seemed to have heard anything. Convinced it was The Lord telling her this, she made an appointment with a plastic surgeon, and signed up for a face lift, a tummy tuck, liposuction, breast implants, and a nose job, all to be done simultaneously. Figuring since The Lord told her she would live to be 100, she'd better do something to make herself look better.

After healing from all the operations and looking great she decided to go shopping. While crossing the street, she was hit by a bus and killed instantly. When she got to heaven, she asked the Lord, "Why did I die?" You told me I was going to live to be more than 100?" God looked at her...and replied.... "Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't recognize you."

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ON AGING

Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional.

Insanity is my only means of relaxation.

My mind not only wanders, sometimes it leaves completely.

Every time I think about exercise, I lie down til the thought goes away.

God put me on earth to accomplish a certain number of things. Right now I am so far behind, I will live forever.

I finally got my head together, and my body fell apart.

There cannot be a crisis this week; my schedule is already full.

The nice part of living in a small town is that when I don't know what I'm doing, someone else does.

As time goes on I think I know what I want until I walk from one end of the house to the other, and can't remember what I came after.

The older you get, the tougher it is to lose weight, because by then your body and your fat are really good friends.

Sometimes I think I understand everything, then I regain consciousness.

Seen it all, Done it all, Can't remember most of it.

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THE SENILITY PRAYER

God grant me the senility
to forget the people
I never liked anyway,
the good fortune
to run into the ones I do,
and the eyesight to tell the difference.

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MEMORY LOSS POEM

Just a line to say I'm living
That I'm not among the dead.
Though I'm getting more forgetful
And so mixed up in the head.

I got used to my arthritis
To my dentures I'm resigned.
I can manage my bifocals,
But, Oh God, I miss my mind.

For sometimes I can't remember
When I stand at the foot of the stairs,
If I must go up for something
Or I just came down from there.

And before the fridge so often
My poor mind is filled with doubt.
Have I just put food away, or
Have I come to take some out?

And there's times when it is darkened
With my night cap on my head.
I don't know if I'm retiring,
Or just getting out of bed.

So, if it's my turn to write you
There's no need for getting sore.
I may think that I have written,
And don't want to be a bore.

So remember that I love you,
And I wish that you were near.
Now it's time to post this letter
So must say goodbye, my dear.

Here I stand beside the mail box
With a face so very red,
Instead of mailing you my letter,
I have opened it instead!

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REMEMBER WHEN . . .

A computer was something on TV
from a science fiction show of note
a window was something you hated to clean...
And ram was the cousin of a goat...

Meg was the name of my girlfriend
and gig was a job for the nights
now they all mean different things
and that really mega bytes

An application was for employment
a program was a TV show
a cursor used profanity
a keyboard was a piano

Memory was something that you lost with age
a cd was a bank account
and if you had a 3 ?" floppy
you hoped nobody found out

Compress was something you did to the garbage
not something you did to a file
and if you unzipped anything in public
you'd be in jail for a while

Log on was adding wood to the fire
hard drive was a long trip on the road
a mouse pad was where a mouse lived
and a backup happened to your commode

Cut you did with a pocket knife
paste you did with glue
a web was a spider's home
and a virus was the flu

I guess i'll stick to my pad and paper
and the memory in my head
I hear nobody's been killed in a computer crash
but when it happens they wish they were dead.

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TO BE SIX AGAIN

I am hereby officially tendering my resignation as an adult, in order to accept the responsibilities of a 6 year old. The tax base is lower. I want to be six again.

I want to go to McDonald's and think it's the best place in the world to eat. I want to sail sticks across a fresh mud puddle and make waves with rocks.

I want to think M&Ms are better than money, because you can eat them. I want to play kick-ball during recess.

I long for the days when life was simple. When all you knew were your colors, the addition tables & simple nursery rhymes, but it didn't bother you, because you didn't know what you didn't know and you didn't care.

I want to go to school and have snack time, recess, gym and field trips.

I want to be happy, because I don't know what should make me upset. I want to think the world is fair and everyone in it is honest and good.

I want to believe that anything is possible.

Sometime, while I was maturing, I learned too much. I learned of nuclear weapons, prejudice, starving and abused kids, lies, unhappy marriages, illness, pain and mortality. I want to be six again.

I want to think that everyone, including myself, will live forever, because I don't know the concept of death. I want to be oblivious to the complications of life and be overly excited by the little things again.

I want television to be something I watch for fun, not something used for escape from the things I should be doing. I want to live knowing the little things that I find exciting will always make me as happy as when I first learned them. I want to be six again.

I remember not seeing the world as a whole, but rather being aware of only the things that directly concerned me. I want to be naive enough to think that if I'm happy, so is everyone else.

I want to walk down the beach and think only of the sand beneath my feet and the possibility of finding that blue piece of sea glass I'm looking for.

I want to spend my afternoons climbing trees & riding my bike, letting the grownups worry about time, the dentist and how to find the money to fix the old car.

I want to wonder what I'll do when I grow up and what I'll be, who I'll be and not worry about what I'll do if this doesn't work out. I want that time back.

I want to use it now as an escape, so that when my computer crashes, or I have a mountain of paperwork, or two depressed friends, or a fight with my spouse, or bittersweet memories of times gone by, or second thoughts about so many things..........

I can travel back and build a snowman, without thinking about anything except whether the snow sticks together and what I can possibly use for the snowman's mouth.

I want to be six again.

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