CHUCK LORRE PRODUCTIONS, # 566
I just turned sixty-five. It is, by any measure, an advanced age. It is not the new fifty-five, or the new sixty. It is just old. And it has forced me to do some serious soul-searching, to ask myself a tough and vaguely frightening question: How will I know when it's time to quit? What signal, mental or physical, should I look for that tells me it's time to stop writing sitcoms? After much careful thought, the answer came to me. The day I sit on the toilet and my balls hit the water, I'm done.