According to a 2009 report from the Center For Disease Control and Prevention, the average life expectancy of an American is 78.5 years. My great grandparents on my mother’s side lived into their 90s while my grandparents on my dad’s side ventured into the next phase in their mid-70s.
Additional negative, consequential factors to consider:
- I have asthma
- I’m poor
- I sit at a desk all day, looking straight (also known as staring) into a radioactive computer screen
- I do not constantly eat healthy
- I do not go to the gym
- I live in a nuclear-loving planet
Additional positive, consequential factors to consider:
- I’m white, so I know the government won’t let me die on the sidewalk. Thanks guys…
- I drink coffee (it leads to a long life, according to Sweden)
Considering my family history and the list of positive and negative factors, I am going to live to the ripe old age of 83. Don’t ask me to explain the math to you because only a maniac genius, such a myself, could understand such complicated algorithms.
Why does it matter that I am going to die at 83? It doesn’t really matter. Most likely, I’m already dead and just haven’t noticed yet, anyways. Nonetheless, it pays to accept that an end (of this existence) is inevitable. For example, now that I fully understand that I am going to be completely wiped off of the face of the Earth, I naturally take notice of more. I’m living in the moment, seeing it all pass by in waves, experiencing the transitions from one day to the next, watching my story unfold—and what a tale it is.
It took my coworkers and myself several minutes to figure out just how old I am—26 or 27. Turns out, I am 26 with 57 more years to go. Somewhere around 23, shortly after college, the speed of life picked up. Responsibilities weigh heavily on the mind and the daily grind beats the body into submission. Over the past 3 years, I’ve noticed certain things about my decaying, living body that I would like to share with you.
Here’s a few things I’ve noticed with age:
- Nose Hair – Where did this come from? My grandfather had a ludicrous amount of nose hairs when grandma didn’t keep him groomed. I feel like a messed up version of Repunzel, waiting for my knight in shining armor to ascend into my brain.
- Aches – Bones in my back and legs that I had no idea even existed have made themselves known. I can no longer sleep with my head and neck elevated at certain angles without crying for a neck brace when I wake up.
- Dandruff – Yeah, I’m taking it there. Age is relentless. My head skin is falling off.
- I like children now – I’ve never had much affection for babies and younglings, but, as is the usual case with many “adults,” my aging mind now yearns for them in the future.
- I listen to jazz music – Long gone are the days where I only listened to Weezer. My horizons have expanded into all sorts of genres I once thought impossible. Oh, you want to listen to Hank Williams Sr. and then listen to Duke Ellington records? Forget this Gotye stuff and these Black Eyed Pees; darn hippy muzak!
So my question is: What’s one thing you’ve noticed about your aging body or mind that you never expected as a younger human? There are no right answers. Only stupid ones.
Well, for one, I can’t believe I’m just now getting around to reading this blog. Awesome! Let’s see, my jaw pops now? I don’t know why but it does. Like before I take a bite of a hamburger or something. So weird. And of course, when I take my medications in the morning I feel like an old lady. Other than that, not much yet. If I discover any others in a few months or years, I’ll definitely let you know.
Joe, at 26 you’re a mere babe. I’m sure at times it doesn’t feel like it, but you are. Savor these last years of your 20s; one day you’ll look back and feel nostalgic. (And you’ll realize just how young you really were.)
Physical changes: At 25, my metabolism began to noticeably slow down – I could no longer eat anything I wanted, whenever I wanted, and stay slim. At 35, I realized it’s no longer enough to just change my diet; I also have to engage in some exercise to stay slim. Somewhere in my early-to-mid-30s, I got my first grey hair. I also realized my hearing isn’t as excellent, but I think that’s more from years of standing next to large amplifiers at rock shows. Also, my bones crack more and my body takes longer to heal when I pull a muscle, get a piercing, or otherwise injure myself.
Mental changes: The older I get, the more I realize that this moment in time won’t matter in the larger scheme of things. The older I get, the less seriously I take myself. I laugh more – at myself and at situations that won’t matter in the larger scheme of things. I realize that time is finite, that I won’t have forever to do something and if I want to do something, I must do it now. And I have a stronger sense of who I am as a person, that what others say or think about me doesn’t matter because I know who I am and they don’t. These things come with age.
At first, I was apprehensive about turning a year older, but really I – and you – have nothing to fear. Things only get better – you only get better – with age. ~ Gina
Gina, thanks for the post and I love your e-mail name too. bonita applebaum you gotta put me on. i actually saw q-tip on talk stoop yesterday, chatting about Muhammad and social media. cool random chat to catch.
you’re definitely right about getting better with age m’friend. however, i’m still going to build a time machine and blow this joint!ha ha