The reason the Air Force, Army, Navy and Marines bicker among themselves is that they don’t speak the same language. For instance, Take the simple phrase “secure the building”. The Army will post guards around the place. The Navy will turn out the lights and lock the doors. The Marines will kill everybody inside and set up a headquarters. The Air Force will take out a 5 year lease with an option to buy.

Today at the drugstore, the clerk was a gent. From my purchase, this chap took off 10 percent. I asked for the cause of a lesser amount; And he answered, “Because of the Seniors Discount.” I went to McDonald’s for a burger and fries; And there, once again, got quite a surprise. The clerk poured some coffee which he handed to me. He said, “For you seniors, the coffee is free.” Understand — I’m not old — I’m merely mature; But some things are changing, temporarily, I’m sure. The newspaper print gets smaller each day, And people speak softer — can’t hear what they say. My teeth are my own (I have the receipt), and my glasses identify people I meet. Oh, I’ve slowed down a bit… not a lot, I am sure. You see, I’m not old… I’m only mature. The gold in my hair has been bleached by the sun. You should see all the damage that chlorine has done. Washing my hair has turned it all white, But don’t call it gray… saying “blond” is just right. My car is all paid for… not a nickel is owed. Yet a kid yells, “Old duffer… get off of the road!” My car has no scratches… not even a dent. Still, I get all that guff from a punk who’s “Hell bent.” My friends all get older… much faster than me. They seem much more wrinkled, from what I can see. I’ve got “character lines,” not wrinkles… for sure, But don’t call me old… just call me mature. The steps in the houses they’re building today Are so high that they take… your breath all away; And the streets are much steeper than 10 years ago. That should explain why my walking is slow. But I’m keeping up on what’s hip and what’s new, And I think I can still dance a mean boogaloo. I’m still in the running… in this I’m secure, I’m not really old… I’m only mature!

A retired Army General moves into a new apartment after quitting service. Over the next few weeks, his new neighbors realized that on the weekends he would return to his apartment at 2am very drunk, remove his left boot and slam it on the floor, remove his right boot and slam it on the floor even harder and then go to sleep. Since the force of these thunderous slams was enough to wake up almost everyone around him, and this was a family complex no less, the neighbors decided to go to his house and confront him about this one morning. "Mr. General Sir, thank you for your service to our country, and we welcome you to our apartment complex." "Thank you." "Sir, we realize that serving the country for so long can really take a toll on someone, and we want you to enjoy your retirement..." "Okay?" "But, sir, can you please, kindly, not slam your boots down in the middle of the night once you return home on the weekends? It's waking us and our kids up." "Oh! I didn't know that. I am sorry for waking all of you up like that, how stupid of me, it won't happen again." "Thank you so much, sir." The next weekend the General returns home drunk and sits on his bed. He removes his left boot and slams it on the floor. He removes his right boot and - "Wait a minute... this is what they were talking about, isn't it?" he says to himself in his drunken stupor. He gently places the right boot next to the left one and goes to bed. An hour or so later the General wakes up to the sounds of the doorbell ringing continuously and heavy knocking on his door. He gets up, waddles over to the door and opens it to find a group of his neighbors standing outside in their nightclothes... "SIR! Can you please just slam the other boot already so we can all get some sleep!!?"