“I grow old…
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled…”

Yeah, I hear you, Alfred.

The other day, I decided to try out a new barber shop.  A nice young Greek fellow named Nick did a fine job.  When he finished, since there’s a “seniors” discount, he politely, shyly, asked me my age.

“51,” I said. 

He beamed. 

Great, I thought.  “Nick,” I asked, “am I old enough for the discount?” 

He smiled politely and shook his head. 

“How old do I have to be?” 

He smiled and handed me my change. 

“65.  Have a good day.”

“Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
 I do not think that they will sing to me…”
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