I don't know what I expected getting old to be like when I was young, but I assumed things would work out. I looked around at the old guys I knew and none of them seemed bitter; they didn't seem lonely; they weren't committing suicide en masse. So I thought it would probably work out for me, too. It has. I don't pay that much attention to young men. Some of my friends are distressed by the fact that they seem invisible to young men. If I stopped to notice, I might find that I am also invisible to them. But, for the most part, I don't pay much attention. I do notice that young men at my gym treat me sort of like a mascot. They like to tell me how great I look - for my age. I think, "Couldn't you just say I look good?" But, then I remind myself that a flawed compliment is better than no compliment at all.