Today at the drugstore, the clerk was a gent,
from my purchase this chap took off 10 percent.
I asked for the cause of a lesser amount:
And he answered, “Because of the Senior’s Discount.”
I went to McDonalds for a burger and fries;
And there, once again, got quite a surprise.
The clerk poured some coffee, which he handed to me.
He said, “For you, Seniors, the coffee is free.”
Understand – I’m not old – I’m merely mature;
But some things are changing, temporarily, I’m sure.
The newspaper’s print gets smaller each day,
And people speak softer—can’t hear what they say.
My teeth are my own (I have the receipt),
And my glasses identify people I meet.
Oh, I’ve slowed down a bit… not a lot, I’m sure,
You see, I’m not old… I’m only mature.
The gold in my hair has been bleached by the sun.
You should see all the damage the chlorine has done.
Washing my hair has turned it all white,
But don’t call it gray… saying “blond” is just right.
My car is all paid for—not a nickel is owed.
Yet a kid yells, “Old duffer, get off the road!”
My car had no scratches—not even a dent.
Still I get all that guff from a punk who’s “hell bent.”
My friends all get older much faster than me.
They seemed much more wrinkled, from what I can see,
I’ve got “character lines” not wrinkles—for sure,
But don’t call me old… just call me mature.
The steps in the houses they’re building today
Are so high that they take your breath away;
And the streets are much steeper than ten years ago,
That should explain why my walking is slow.
But I’m keeping up on what’s hip and what’s new,
And I think I can still dance a mean boogaloo.
I’m still in the running—in this I’m secure,
I’m not really old… I’m only mature.
You really shouldn’t say “I love you” unless you really mean it—But—if you really mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.
Remember – actions speak louder than words.