Living to 100; the new 80.

The really frightening thing about middle age is that you know you'll grow out of it. Doris Day.

I’ve long resisted admitting that I am middle-aged. Among other things, that would conclusively close the door on being young. However, as I approach turning 50, there can be no denying that I am in fact, middle-aged. Sheesh. But other than the fact that 50 is a very round number, what is it about this age marker that has such resonance, and for me at least, is the absolute and incontrovertible demarcation of being middle aged? It’s not as if this is the middle point of my life. Or is it?

As I ponder what direction to take after ending my trading career, be it a new business (too much work), charitable work (yah, right), an actual job (yah, right again), I am faced with the very real possibility that I may in fact have another 50 years to live. No longer does it appear safe to assume that life will begin to fade out beginning at 70, and be over at 80, give or take a few years. 100 is now a very distinct possibility. (Good thing I’m not superstitious.)

My dad is now 86; my mom 88, and neither exercised a day in their adult lives. Nor did they get regular checkups, watch their cholesterol, take vitamins or even wear seatbelts. But here they are, still kicking and screaming (sometimes quite literally) and heading to 90. What my parents did do apparently, is inherent some genes that have caused them, for better or worse, to live long lives with no end in sight. So where does that leave me, the sometimes health-conscious inheritor of my parents longevity genes? My guess, barring an unwelcome random act of bad luck or deadly gene mutation, is that I’m on my way to 100. Sheesh again.

Mind you, I’m just guessing at 100 and rounding off for convenience. Who knows, I may be being overly conservative. For a little guidance, I’ve looked through some statistics. While my life expectancy as a male is a mere 27.9 years, that doesn’t take into account the facts that I’m white, educated (if going to class but not paying attention counts as education), of above-average means, and a nonsmoker. On the other hand, I have a big mouth and often tend to rub the wrong people the wrong way. (Not a good combination for a long life.) To this longevity lotto, add the fact that scientific breakthroughs are occurring everyday, cures for previously deadly diseases are being discovered on a regular basis, and I now eat my vegetables, brussel sprouts included.

Factually speaking, the chances of living longer nowadays compared to years past are so overwhelmingly in our favor as to be all but a given. In 1900, life expectancy for men was 49.7 years; by the middle of the century, men could be expected to live to 65.6 years of age, and now its up around 72. I won’t bore you with too many facts, but suffice it to say, everything is pointing to 100 being the new 80 by the time my contemporaries and I get there.

But wait, there’s much more, and though much of the new thinking seems closer to science fiction, many believe it to be a plausible reality. For example, there are some who believe that sometime within our lifetime, we will conquer our biological limits and humanity will attain immortality. One such believer is Ray Kurzweil, who has been called the modern Edison and won the 1999 National Medal of Technology Award. Kurzweil relies on his belief in the “exponential nature of technological advance” with knowledge doubling every year. Naturally, there are doubters, myself included. One Yale bioethics professor acknowledges Kurzweil to be a genius, but concludes that “he‘s a product of a narcissistic age when brilliant people are becoming obsessed with their longevity.” Hmmm.
(Do let me know if that ever applies to me; the obsessed part, not the brilliant.) Other more “reasonable” estimates of future longevity are in the 140 age range. Can you imagine proudly dating a woman 25 years your junior who is still a dried up prune of 110? Yuk.

I will leave it to the social ethicists to debate and ruminate upon the possible implications of and impact to our society should we start to live well past the century mark. (Think being married to the same person for 100 years!!) For now all I’m concerned about is what’s this all mean for me? Well obviously, barring the unforeseen, I AM middle aged (and can no longer leer at young women and think about what it would be like to have sex with them. Well, I CAN, but I try not to.) With the extra 10-30 years of life expectancy, I also now have a much better chance of seeing the Cubs get into the World Series, though this could just be one of those freakish sports anomalies that no one, no matter how long they live, will witness.

But perhaps most importantly, the possibility of living a lot longer than anticipated is a reminder that we do sometimes need to look ahead and plan a little. And while I’m now career-less and enjoying the freedom to write and go to the gym everyday, and play baseball five times a week in the summer, I also need to make sure that when I’m pushing ninety or so I’m not forced to utter the six words which would prove to be my living hell: “may I take your order please?”