Ten years later is when you start appreciating the merits of becoming Shallow Hal.
That, or you start appreciating the beauty and marvelous bounty that is a Venus of Willendorf figure as you get older.
It's only at that point in a man's life where you can differentiate true gentlemen from the ''fake riff-raff''. And let me tell you, true gentlemen are extremely few and far between when you come right down to it.
These fakes, ''gredins'' as I like to affectionately call them, will keep chasing that young tail, enduring all adversity for young, nubile women (or men), until eventually they become known as craddle robbers and old perverts. I'm sure you can think of a few whom you know, if you're not one yourself.
Most often, after their craddle-robbing days their love relationships start to turn murky, they get dumped by the young lover and stop being popular, what with being 70+ years old and so wrinkly not even getting ironed out would straighten everything.
Then they turn back to sensibly-aged partners to assuage their needs and unwillingness to be alone, the same ones they'd left behind earlier and disdained for their age. Through either love or plain magnanimity, the older lovers those ''gredins'' turn to in the end usually do not deride them for being the booty-driven fools that they are and actually take them back, probably out of a similar need to not end their days alone.
The true, romance-tested gentlemen on the other hand learn to love and revel in the additional roundness of their wives (or their husbands, gentlemanliness is not only for straight people, someone born a woman or intersex but wanting to live their life as a man could be a better gentleman than any of us), their wrinkles and the beautiful time spent together. They see their companion as they once were as much as how they currently look. Even though they could easily enough ingratiate themselves to fresher folk, and enjoy a life of debauchery ala waffledave, they remain steadfast until eventually they die.
