When I was in my 50's, one of my kids told me that I was old. I told them that 50 wasn't old, and that the term old really didn't apply until you were 65. When I was 65 and still working, and was managing several nursing homes, we used the term old to generally mean 80 or older even though some of the folks we cared for were less than that age. Tomorrow I turn 82, and I don't think I can spin the reality to think of myself as anything but old. Parts of me that used to work just fine now creak and ache, or don't work at all. The words "Happy Birthday" are just a cruel joke now. But its still better than being on the brown side of the grass.