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Golden Age

It’s a warm august evening, the setting sun cast shades of red, gold and orange across the horizon, we find ourselves at the “Golden Age” retirement villa.

Three centurions sit on the porch smoking pipes and a fourth (much) younger man stand before them, as we get closer we can hear the youngest telling them of the “Ill Effects” of smoking on one’s health. Herb, the oldest of our trio, takes the pipe from between his teeth, looks at the young doctor blowing smoke and says “UP YOURS SONNY”, I’ve been smoking for eighty years with no “Ill Effects”, I’m here because I’m old, not sick. The three laugh as the young man walks away red faced.

Bill says “What’s not funny, is suffering the daily indignities that go along being here. I can’t evacuate in the morning until that nasty old nurse gets around to giving me an enema.”

Jim says “I know what you mean, can’t drain my bladder in the morning until she comes around with a catheter.”

Herb pipes in with “I wake every morning at zero five thirty exactly, come zero six hundred I evacuate everything, no problem.”

Bill and Jim take a long look at each other, then at Herb and ask in unison “You call THAT indignity?” Herb replies “Nope. That nasty old nurse won’t help me out of bed ‘till she’s tended to both of you, by then it 9 o’clock.”
 
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