I'm in my fifties now, which is a cool age. I love being in my fifties because people gotta listen to you now; you've been around for awhile. Now, the other side of that coin is that -- cause you're in your fifties -- you still care what people think about you. So you kind of filter what you say. Now if that's the case, I can't wait until I'm eighty. Because eighty-year-old people don't give a damn what you think. Think about it: how many eighty-year-old people with any tact at all do you know? None! 'Cause they don't have to! They're eighty! Does Grandma hold her farts in at the dinner table? No! She doesn't have to. She's earned the right to fart at your dinner table. She'll fart at the pearly gates on her way to meet sweet Jesus.