Others, it seems, are less likely to do that and we now have plenty of role models - in the form of the wild rockers of the sixties, Jagger, McCartney, Ozzie et al, and Jerry Hall, Joanna Lumley and Vivienne Westwood - who are ageing in a glorious mixture of gracefulness and disgracefulness.
Who was it who said the sign of a good life was when you fly through the Pearly Gates arse first, on fire screaming "woo hoo what a ride"?!
Anyway when I got home after my day out I discovered what my 72-year-old mother had been doing all day:
All of those were baled on our top fields (so called because we're down the bottom and the land slopes upwards to where we grow our hay). Then then have to be spiked and brought down the slope individually and lined up to be wrapped.
So my aged parent spent the day driving this up and down a steep slope with each of those huge bales of haylage spiked on the back of it:
Actually this isn't our tractor, this is the one from Shaun the Sheep, but to all intents and purposes it's identical.
I'd say it'd feel like a long old life if one decided that 44 was middle-aged (how I hate that term!) and sat on the sofa drinking tea watching daytime repeats of Cash in the Attic. I used to worry that ageing brought with it the need to wear fluffy slippers and watch game shows (shoot me!) but fortunately there's no sign of that yet.
I'm not sure when you become 'old' but it's obviously a state of mind rather than anything to do with what's written on your birth certificate. Hopefully it's genetic too. I'd like to think I'll be driving the tractor when I'm 72. I don't drive it now. Far too dangerous!