The Glory Of Being 90 Years Old...Told In A Brief Style

• When you're 90 years old, not only has your dick died, but your underwear is all you need for your urine and feces tests.

• Getting old is a 'lay up'. Being old ain't for wimps or sissies. Every kvetch chases you to Google and borderline hypochondria.

• Not needing a cane, a walker or a fucking motorized wheel chair is big.

• Not falling on my ass, for good or bad reasons is cause for celebration.

• Wanting to sing out 'Hallelujah' when a name comes to mind easy.

• Being 'regular' is big. Having to eat at least four prunes a day to get there is almost disgusting.

• Just being able to swing my leg high enough to get on a LeMond spinning bike feels like an accomplishment. Doing intervals even more so.

• Out of respect for other driver's lives never, ever, driving on a freeway is a must.

• Wondering if some homeless guy will get my $5,000 Brioni suits; where the fun was in the buying, not in the wearing.

• 70 year old memories of drinking boiler makers in Hawaii during a stop-over en route to the States. We were on a 6 hour pass from the hospital ship. Got really in the bag, literally fell flat on my face in a pool of water returning to the ship. We had planned to have steaks. Whiskey and beer chasers did, however, win the day.

• Ecstatic that the marbles in my head are still rolling around.

• Working with a great trainer twice a week. 30 minutes and 12 lb weights are my emotional and physical limits.

• Happy to be, to quote Billy Crystal, "A hoarder of memories".

• Knowing that percentages in all endeavors are the game. Gotta keep shoveling cause you know that under that pile of horse shit, there has to be a pony somewhere.

• Living by Bum Phillip's, a football coach's dictum, that 'You can fail all the time but you're never a failure, til you blame someone else".

• Optimism energizes. Pessimism drags you down.

• Knowing, to paraphrase Dean Martin, that when I get out of bed in the morning that it's as bad as I'm going to feel all day.

• Like any good Jew, I always forgive but never forget.

• Looking, sometimes staring, at knockout young women and wondering what possessed me to get married at 22. Not too fucking smart.

• Realizing that too much of my life has been severely influenced by letting my little head run my big one.

• Remembering getting picked up in Paris, drunk out of my fucking mind, by two hookers from Mozambique. Going back to the Meurice for a ménage a trois. Woke up, rolled, and not remembering anything about the ménage but sure that it was great.

• Finally remembering to put my keys, sunglasses and wallet in the same place has added real time to my life.

• Recalling the El Al flight attendant asking me, when I asked for my 4th drink in the first hour, on my way to Israel, "Another one?"

• Loving the line from Fiddler on the Roof, 'Those were the days my friend. We thought they'd never end.'

• Busted on my lower case bronx, jewish ass, but with zero regrets and optimism about the next 4.6 years.