Paul Little: The Rolling Stones are finally gathering moss

We should thank the Stones for showing us how to get old. Photo / Michael Craig

It's hard work being a Rolling Stone these days. You have to do the job of Rock Legend, White Male Division, pretty much on your own.

Your peers are either dead (Elvis, most of the Beatles, the Who and the Velvet Underground), defunct (Led Zeppelin and The Kinks), off on a frolic of their own (Bob Dylan, Neil Young), or just sad (Brian Wilson and what's passing itself off as The Beach Boys).

And you're not getting any younger. Your collective age is nudging 300 and your 71-year-old frontman, Sir Mick Jagger, has been a great grandfather since May last year.

You can pretty much tell anybody's age on a Rolling Stones timeline.

If you are in your 60s, you still think they're the latest and greatest thing ever.

If you are in your late 50s you still think of Ron Wood as the new one, and occasionally wonder how Brian Jones really ended up drowned in that pool.

If you are in your 40s, they will have been part of your musical landscape all your life but you've never really bonded with them.

And if you are in your 30s you have no reason to be interested in them at all.

Rock stars have always been surrogates for the rest of us, sucking up the attention and accordant fringe benefits we all desire.

It's their job to live out vicariously those things we can't do for ourselves.

In the case of the Stones that was to be outrageous in ways that would not be tolerated if we tried them on at home. They were the epitome of the sex, drugs and rock'n'roll motto.

And now, according to a leaked tour rider, just like the rest of us, they are finally showing their age.

Among the things they require when they travel is around-the-clock dry cleaning to be available. That'll be because of the drooling.

They also ask that their rooms be fitted with blackout curtains.

It has been speculated that this is so they can conduct all-night orgies away from prying paparazzi lenses, but it's almost certainly because they need to get their sleep as they move between different time zones.

Life for them is now a matter of sex, drugs and how does this work?

The sex is something they'll fondly remember. The drugs will be Lipitor and heart medication.

And, because they tour so much, they are constantly confronting baffling new technology and have asked for written instructions to be provided about how to work everything from light switches and air conditioning to DVD players and other electronics.

This raises several questions. Most obviously: can they not afford staff?

And are they the last people on Earth still using DVDs?

I can see them now, wondering why the lights aren't working in their hotel rooms, until one of them remembers you have to put your key card in that slot by the door.

Really, the only technology they should have to worry about is their pacemakers and artificial hips. Artificially Hip, by the way, wouldn't be a bad name for a Stones tribute band.

The revelations the Stones are acting in age-appropriate ways does settle one of the great rock'n'roll mysteries: how will Keith go out?

It seems clear now his demise will come about not through over-indulgence in cigarettes, alcohol or drugs but in a blinding flash when he plugs the wrong thingy into the wrong whatsit.

We should give thanks to the Stones for conveniently showing us how to get old.

And the message is: don't be afraid to ask for help. Or written instructions.