I turned 42 years old yesterday. There are a few ways of looking at this age. A pessimist, of course, would say that I'm already halfway to 84. On the other hand, there is some significance attached to this age. For example:
I'm twice as much fun as a 21-year-old;
I'm young enough to be naughty and old enough to appreciate it.
My age also happens to be the Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
It isn't so bad. Except maybe when I try to get into/out of my car, chair, bed, etc. and make the same oof! sound my dad made when he was 42. That gets a little irritating. And I have noticed that the women who flirt with me are older.
But to a 70- or 80- year-old, I am still a "young man." I'll take it where I can get it.