I have good news for you. The first eighty years of your life are the hardest, the second eighty is a succession of birthday parties.

Once you reach eighty, everyone wants to carry your baggage and help you up steps.

If you forget your name or anyone eles's name, if you forget and promise to be in three different places at once, if you forget how many grandchildren you have, you only need to explain that you're eighty. At eighty, you have a perfect excuse, no matter what you do.

If you act foolishly, it's your second or third childhood. Being eighty is a lot better than being seventy.

At seventy, people are mad at you for everything. Being seventy is no fun at all. At that age, they expect you to retire to a house on the Central Coast, so that they can spend holidays with you.

You complain about your arthritis (it used to be called lumbago).

You ask everyone to stop mumbling because you can't understand them (actually, you're  hearing is fifty percent gone).

If you survive until you are eighty, everyone is suprised that you are still alive. They treat you with respect for living so long. Actually they seem suprised that you can walk and even talk properly.

So, please folks try to make it to eighty, it's the best time of your life.

Life begins at eighty.

Mac.