[Industrialblog,
November 5, 2006]
Death Clock
Well according to the death clock I have about 29 more years to go. [I could drop seven years off that by taking up smoking again.] It says I'll make it until Aug. 30, 2035. That's only 72. I don't buy it. I put in my father's birthday and he was supposed to have died five years ago. But nope, he's approaching 80 and showing no signs of stopping. So I'm just going to go ahead and start collecting my social security at age 70. I'm gonna need the extra cash that comes with delaying the collection.
Change to optimistic and lower your BMI -- you're clock will be reset.
Thanks for the 3+ years of blogging.
My grandmother is 101½ and still going strong. What's more, she's been borderline obese all her life, and until very recently she basically never bothered with prescription medications. Never slowed her down, she was still chopping tree stumps out of her yard with an axe in her 90s.
Many, many other forebears and relatives who made it well into their 90s, mostly in the days before modern medicine.
I'm 50 and not a wrinkle in sight. Regularly mistaken for 35. If I follow in my dad's footsteps, I won't see even the beginning of any wrinkles or crowsfeet until I'm pushing 70. At which age my dad (since slightly wrinkled) was still regularly being mistaken for 45.
Damn good thing I've got a good pension plan, I'm gonna need it. My recipe for a long life: "Be born with good genes, and don't get run over by a city bus." :)