It seems that the Fountain of Youth has been discovered once again. It's not in St. Augustine, Florida where we thought it was all these years. Ponce de Leon evidently made a mistake claiming he found it in 1513 when he set foot on American soil. No, turns out it's been hiding within our own cells. Now don't we feel silly for traveling all the way to Florida to slather on the "healing" waters? Youthfulness was with us or actually within us all this time, or so say the Russians.
The Russian newspaper, Pravda, claims that scientists will soon be able to increase the life expectancy to 120 years. No doubt these are "mad" scientists, as no one I know wants to live that long. But they believe they have located the gene that makes us age and are bound and determined to alter it so we age more slowly. They also believe that the person who will live to this advanced age has already been born.
They have, of course, been practicing on our animal friends and have extended the life of poor white mice by 50 percent, and a sorrier primate has made it to 123 in human years. Their studies have revealed that a toxic form of oxygen is the culprit for making us "mature" looking. I'm not sure about Russia, it's a foreign country you know, but here we require oxygen, toxic or not to sustain life. They have also noted that our cells do have the mechanisms to fight against aging, but some of them refuse to defend themselves. Conscientious objector cells? Who knew?
Herein lies one of my problems with living to the ripe, ripe, ripe old age of 120. Being a female, and a vain one at that, what will I look like if every single one of my cells doesn't feel like fighting off Father Time? I imagine that only half my cells are young and vigorous, while the other half have moved into full retirement mode. Will I have wrinkles only on the left side of my face? One perky breast and one flailing near my waistline? Just one bag under my eyes? Age spots on my right hand only? Intermittent gray hairs? Oh wait, I have that now. This picture is not pretty.
Another issue with living to 120 is I'd have six generations of family that need birthday and Christmas gifts. My calendar would literally be covered with reminder notes. And what if only half my brain cells remained young? Would I remember what each family member liked? Or even what each family member looked like for that matter? And what about paying for all these gifts? Even if I cut back and only bought for the kids, there still could be hundreds of them.
ADVERTISEMENT
Which brings us to the last objection for living too long--money. It may be the root of all evil but it's a necessary one. For instance, I started work at 15 and with this 120 year old thing, could end up stopping at the new legal retirement age of 90. Does having to work for 75 years scare the crap out of anyone but me? Social Security most definitely will not cover me for this long, and I'm pretty sure I haven't been contributing enough into my IRA to carry me for all those years.
Maybe I'm being a worry-wart. I'm sure I'm not the one already born who is going to live to 120, but I may make 100. So just in case, I have my own living-too-long plan. I'm going to suck up to all our young family members so they'll be happy to take care of me in my old age.
