I mean, so what if some fifty-eight-year-old butt-head gets a load on and starts playing Death Race 2000 in the rush-hour traffic jam? What kind of chance is he taking? He's just waiting around to see what kind of cancer he gets anyway. But if young, talented you, with all of life's possibilities at your fingertips, you and the future Cheryl Tiegs there, so fresh, so beautiful— if the two of you stake your handsome heads on a single roll of the dice in life's game of stop-the-semi— now that's taking chances! Which is why old people rarely risk their lives. It's not because they're chicken— they just have too much dignity to play for small stakes.

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