Don’t put me on ice: Thoughts on getting older 

The concept of immortality, or the idea that a human being could live forever, has been around for, well, probably as long as there have been human beings. Death really doesn’t fit into our busy schedules, so why wouldn’t we try to find a way to get out of it? It is like trying to avoid that Zoom call with middle management. There are far more enjoyable things to do. 

China’s first emperor Qin Shi Huang was so afraid of dying that he outlawed even talking about death. A local “sorcerer” told the king about an elixir of life that could be made with a special plant that only grew on a secluded, far-away island, and succeeded in conning Qin out of a literal boatload of money and set sail into the great blue yonder. Speaking of sailing, Ponce de Leon traveled across the Atlantic searching for the Fountain of Youth in the wild forests of old Florida. Instead, he found malaria and alligators. He got a few streets named after him, so that accounts for something, right? 

Sometime in the 20^th century folks stopped hunting for mythical relics and potions to stay alive and turned to science, or so far science fiction, to prevent the body from aging and failing. Now focus is given to genetics and cell programing, changing the way the tiniest fragments of life function. Others believe self-replicating nano machines will one day inhabit our bodies, constantly repairing anything that goes awry in our meaty bits. 

In his 1962 book “The Prospect of Immortality,” WWII-vet-turned-physicist Robert Ettinger laid out the case for cryogenics, or freezing the dearly departed for later revival, and became the founder of that movement. He died in 2011 at the ripe old age of 92 and is currently on ice next to his two wives. He’s going to have some explaining to do if someone manages to wake all three of them up. 

It’s widely rumored, and believed, that Walt Disney is among the ranks of the couple of hundred corpses currently known to be cryogenically preserved, though there is no evidence to back up the claim. Seeing the corporate soulless behemoth his company has become, he might not want to come back. 

I have a birthday coming up, a rather big one, and that’s what has my mind on aging, or not aging. If I manage to survive a couple more weeks, I’ll have 40 years under my belt. Yes, still young by many standards, yet, statistically speaking, more behind me than left to live. The average life for the U.S. male is about 77 years old. 

I’m not interested in living forever. Quite frankly that sounds terrible. Don’t mess with my cells, inject me with tiny machines or put me in a big freezer. I’m quite happy with the outcome of my years so far. There are regrets and things I’d handle differently, but I wouldn’t be who I am, where I am without them. 

So instead of trying to add more time, I’m going to try to make the best out of what’s coming my way.