This was sent by a musician friend:
You know you're too old to gig when:
It becomes more important to find a place onstage for your box fan, than your amp.
You refuse to play out of tune.
Your gig clothes make you look like George Burns out for a round of golf.
Your fans have left by 10:30 p.m.
All you want from groupies is a foot massage.
Your aftershow party is at the International House of Pancakes
You love taking the elevator because you can sing along to most of your play list.
You hire band members for their values instead of their talent.
Instead of a fifth member, your band wants to spring for a roadie.
You've lost the directions to the gig.
You need your glasses to see your amp settings.
You've thrown out your back jumping off the stage.
You're thrilled to have New Year's Eve off.
The waitress is your daughter.
You stop the set because your bottle of Ibuprofen fell behind the speakers.
Most of your crowd just sways in their seats.
You find your drink tokens from last month's gig in your guitar case.
You no longer use a tip jar.
You refuse to play without earplugs.
You ask the club owner if you can start at 8:30 p.m. instead of 9:30 p.m .
You check the TV schedule before booking a gig.
Your gig stool has a back.
You're related to at least one other member of the band.
You need a nap before the gig.
You don't let anyone "sit in."
After the third set, you bug the club owner to let you quit early.
During the breaks, you now go to your van to lay down.
You prefer a music stand with a light.
You don't recover until Tuesday afternoon.
You can't operate without a set list.
You have a contract.
You say you double on bass.