I had a bad day. Its getting harder to keep pace with my 20 year-old cooks. Lately it seems that every year my coworkers get younger. I used to flirt with waitresses, now I'm paternal with them. I used to bite my pasta to test for al dente. Now I have no teeth. I used to prance from station to station as a gazelle, now I limp. What happens to chefs over 50 I wonder? Do we dry up and blow away? My chef coats are new, but they don't feel as white as they used to. I worked oh-so hard in youth to learn and to master my trade. Now I question how long I will be able to ride the never-ending waves of tickets and thrive in 150 degree heat. What dark comedy is this that because of age I have become so much wiser, so gentle with my employees, but at the same time unable to keep physical pace? The trade-off hardly seems fair. What happens to chefs over 50 I wonder?