Turning 65 (?!)

Today is my 65th birthday. Which means I am now officially in my dotage. How the fuck did that happen? I can remember when we didn't trust anybody over 30.

But I don't feel 65 and I don't think that I look 65 (actually when I look in a mirror, I still see that 28-year-old stud looking back at me...).

So I will pass on a couple of bits of wisdom to you all, since I am now free to do that (being a "senior citizen" and all).

1. Inside every old person is a young person wondering, "How the hell did I get here?"
2. The purpose of life's journey is not to arrive sedately at the grave with a well-preserved body and a respectable reputation, but instead to slide in sideways at 90 MPH, a bottle of beer in one hand and a joint of Acapulco Gold in the other, completely used up and worn out, yelling, "Holy shit, what a fuckin' ride!"

Thus sayeth The F-Man.

So, after a hearty breakfast of Cocoa-Puffs and vodka (a "Crunchy Russian"), I may be taking a couple of days off to party with drinks like tequila-and-Pepto-Bismol (a "Tequila Foodrise"), and vodka-and-Geritol* (a "Tired Bloody Mary").

But now that I am 65, I have something to say to the Obama Administration: "No socialized medicine AND keep your hands off my Medicare!" Oh, how quickly we can change, once we get old...

[* Geritol, for the youngsters in the audience, was touted in the 1950s and earlier as the cure for something called "tired blood". Since it was something like 12% alcohol, that wasn't all that it cured...]