As the retirement years take hold, the swagger turns to a shuffle, the brass turns green (polishing no longer works) and one becomes too weak to carry a popsickle stick.
The sense of humor usually stays around and one's friends provide all the shots needed. Pretty soon you don't care who F### with you and your attitude shrinks like your little gent.
That's what I have been told anyway.
Yep, we are looking forward to it Tinny.
