A foursome of senior golfers hit the course with waning enthusiasm for the sport. "These hills are getting steeper as the years go by," one complained.
"These fairways seem to be getting longer too," said one of the others.
"The sand traps seem to be bigger than I remember them too," said the third senior.
After hearing enough from his Senior buddies, the oldest, and the wisest of the four of them at 87 years old, piped up and said, "Just be thankful we're still on the right side of the grass!"
There's quite an art to falling apart as the years go by,
And life doesn't begin at 40. That's a big fat lie.
My hair's getting thinner, my body is not;
The few teeth I have are beginning to rot.
I smell of Vick's-Vapo-Rub, not Chanel # 5;
My new pacemaker's all that keeps me alive.
When asked of my past, every detail I'll know,
But what was I doing 10 minutes ago?
Well, you get the idea, what more can I say?
I'm off to read the obituary, like I do every day;
If my names not there, I'll once again start -
Perfecting the art of falling apart.
