Suicides aside, most regular people desire to live long lives. This puzzles me since the older I get, the fewer good times I have. This is because:
1. Many of the people I loved are already dead.
2. An increasing number of body parts are becoming problematic.
3. The people in charge of the government are way younger and seem like idiots. (Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Cory Booker for example.)
4. Let's face it: music peaked at Woodstock and now there's just a lot of mumbo jumbo passing for singing.
5. All the things I crave are on my DO NOT EAT list.
6. Many of my favorite activities are no longer in my wheelhouse.
7. Every time I see the doctor with a new complaint, he says it's "normal" for my age.
8. The prevailing culture makes me nauseous.
So I read with interest an article in today's paper about the oldest woman in America who died yesterday at the age of 114. She claimed that she lived so long because she ate a sweet potato every day of her life until she was around 100. I wondered, then what? At 100 she just said, "Enough with the sweet potatoes already?" What kept her going another 14 years? (She hinted that it was God's will.)
Week before last I went to Phoenix to visit my friend Gloria who will turn 99 in two months. She lives alone in a lovely house, drives her Prius to the gym four or five mornings a week to work out, plays Bingo and Mahjongg weekly and goes out for lunch with her girlfriends often. She is happy, despite the fact that the love of her life died years ago at the ago of 60. She has two wonderful kids (both in their mid-70s) who check in with her often, and no grandchildren.
Honestly, Gloria is in a better mood than I am most of the time. This might be because she is Italian and I am Jewish. I have known her forever -- she and my mother became best friends at 16 -- and have noticed over the years that Gloria does not seem to worry. She considers things carefully, looks at all sides, and makes a decision. But she does not worry about things for weeks or months. That's the Jewish way. I was taught it well and took to it like a duck to water.
To improve my remaining time here I have decided to become a trans-ethnic. I will begin presenting myself to the world as Italian. My new name will be Francesca Ricci. I will no longer worry. I will start eating a lot more garlic and learn how to make pizza, pasta, lasagna and marinara sauce. (I might sneak in a sweet potato every so often.) I will re-watch all of The Sopranos and try to forget that James Gandolfini is now dead since such thoughts are counter-productive. In fact, he died at 51, and he was Italian too.
This might not work.
1. Many of the people I loved are already dead.
2. An increasing number of body parts are becoming problematic.
3. The people in charge of the government are way younger and seem like idiots. (Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Cory Booker for example.)
4. Let's face it: music peaked at Woodstock and now there's just a lot of mumbo jumbo passing for singing.
5. All the things I crave are on my DO NOT EAT list.
6. Many of my favorite activities are no longer in my wheelhouse.
7. Every time I see the doctor with a new complaint, he says it's "normal" for my age.
8. The prevailing culture makes me nauseous.
So I read with interest an article in today's paper about the oldest woman in America who died yesterday at the age of 114. She claimed that she lived so long because she ate a sweet potato every day of her life until she was around 100. I wondered, then what? At 100 she just said, "Enough with the sweet potatoes already?" What kept her going another 14 years? (She hinted that it was God's will.)
Week before last I went to Phoenix to visit my friend Gloria who will turn 99 in two months. She lives alone in a lovely house, drives her Prius to the gym four or five mornings a week to work out, plays Bingo and Mahjongg weekly and goes out for lunch with her girlfriends often. She is happy, despite the fact that the love of her life died years ago at the ago of 60. She has two wonderful kids (both in their mid-70s) who check in with her often, and no grandchildren.
Honestly, Gloria is in a better mood than I am most of the time. This might be because she is Italian and I am Jewish. I have known her forever -- she and my mother became best friends at 16 -- and have noticed over the years that Gloria does not seem to worry. She considers things carefully, looks at all sides, and makes a decision. But she does not worry about things for weeks or months. That's the Jewish way. I was taught it well and took to it like a duck to water.
 |
| James Gandolfini/Tony Soprano |
To improve my remaining time here I have decided to become a trans-ethnic. I will begin presenting myself to the world as Italian. My new name will be Francesca Ricci. I will no longer worry. I will start eating a lot more garlic and learn how to make pizza, pasta, lasagna and marinara sauce. (I might sneak in a sweet potato every so often.) I will re-watch all of The Sopranos and try to forget that James Gandolfini is now dead since such thoughts are counter-productive. In fact, he died at 51, and he was Italian too.
This might not work.
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