A common facetious greeting in the pub among men of my age (61) is "Good evening, young man". More, I say, more.

[Rosie]Nights out with you must be a scream! ;)

I remember reading in Hardy's Far From the Madding Crowd that Gabriel Oak was (quote from memory warning) "of that age when people begin to stop prefixing 'man' with 'young'" - and he's then revealed to be 29. Ever since, I have thought of 29 as the age when one stops being young. That means I have nine months of youth left.

[BM] People will still call you "young man" but they'll do it to humour you.

(Boolbar) You're right; that's why we oldies do it, to take the piss out of each other.

For some reason, I think of 50 as the boundary. I can see it in the distance, like a barricade across the road, rapidly getting closer.

young man is fine,but i work as a cart pusher at walmart(a job usualy reserved for those under age 18), and i get called "hey kid". when i tell my coworkers how old i am they are supprised(apparently i look quite young for my age).

has anyone tried to play chess by mornington crescent rules?

[Snagandorf]Yes, and you can still hear their pitiful screams on dark winter nights..

(All) The one difference you will all notice is that between the ages of 50 and 55 (or thereabouts) you will lose the ability to change the focus of your eyes. Regarding your eye as a camera, you could say that the lens is still quite clear and forms sharp images, the film is more-or-less as good as it was, but the focussing mechanism will seize up and there is nothing whatsoever you can do about it except get reading glasses.

[Rosie] You're lucky if you noticed it that late... most people do in their 40s, though it depends on what they do, and how long their arms are :-)

It's at least 43°C, dusty outside and dry as a bone... I think I'm starting to look forward to my holiday...

(flerdle) My knuckles graze the floor. This of course is why I play the trombone. Where are you, for it to be 43°C? Not Oz, at this time of the year, surely? A pleasant 18°C here. Sun in and out. Light breeze. Very British.

Oman.

Moved out of my first-year flat today. That means I'm not a Fresher any more....time to start intimidating smaller people. At last! My time has come!

I thought one was only a Fresher for about the first two weeks of first year... But I must say, I think Freshers' Week is wasted on the Freshers - much better in subsequent years.

You're old if you're old compared to your friends, and young if not, I think. (My friends range from 11 to 60+, and I'm nearly 29, so I get to feel young and old - and I spend my time either enviously wishing I was older in terms of experience and knowledge or younger in body).

[ZK] Make the most of it. Before you know it you'll be a miserable embittered Finalist, and then that's it. However, if you survive as a Finalist, you may have the option to become a Postgrad, which is best of all because you have less pressure, less work, more spare time and a real superiority complex. That's my experience anyway...

[Projoy] Having recently discussed with three of my closest mates (all of us are 40ish to 50ish) what we would do differently if we had our time over again, the answer was unanimous, unambiguous and immediate : shag more girls while we had the chance - by being (a) bolder, (b) unconcerned about rejection and (c) less fussy. (Substitute as necessary for your gender and sexual orientation) - That's the best advice our collective 200-odd years can come up with.

[Blob] Would you and your friends please broadcast that at every opportunity? Especially the bit about being less fussy? Many thanks.

[Blob] Not being bold, concerned about rejection and being fussy. I remember my 20s well. Can't say much will have changed since though.