Bette Davis did it better...a reflection on healthy living

Everything we do, every morsel we eat, every thought we think is alleged to impact our health and the length of time we have on this planet. But sometimes I think that there is really nothing we can do to stave off the ravages of living. Bodies simply fall apart. Like houses. You get something fixed and then something else falls apart. Sure, preventive measures work - for awhile. But not for long. The question is - when do we stop trying? And would we be happier just doin' what feels (or tastes) good?

Remember Jim Fix, the runner? Ten mile a day Jim. He was the prototype for selling physical fitnesses to the masses - until he dropped dead of a heart attack (in his thirties) while running. So much for running. Then there was Adelle Davis. She ate nuts and berries and tree bark and died of cancer anyway. And lets not forget Euell Gibbons - the king of pine nuts and Grape Nuts Flakes, the wizard of wild food - who died of malnutrition. Yea - they were great examples of healthy living. Their polar opposites,people like Bette Davis and George Burns ate "badly", smoked and drank,and, dagnabit, lived longer. Explain that. If you can.

I'm convinced it is all about our genes. If our parents and grandparents lived long lives - then our chances are better - unless we get hit by a truck. Nobody does well when they get hit by a truck. Look at your family. In my family most of my Mom's brothers and sisters, as well as my grandparents, died from some form of the Big C. The "boys" - my uncles - died from bad hearts. I don't know much about my Dad's side - but they lived long - miserably, but long. We will all live a bit longer because medical science knows how to coax more miles out of us. But I believe our fates are sealed.So why deny ourselves the pleasures of life in order to squeeze out a few more weeks? Not appealing to me. I'd rather eat junk, sit on my rather nicely shaped ass, and be merry.

Up until two years ago my health was great. I walked a lot - because I like walking.I ate what could be considered a healthy diet. Lots of green and yellow things that popped out of the ground. Some fish (I have a thing about fish bones - they scare me) and some meat and chicken. My preference has always been carbs - I am a carb lover and proud of it. bring on the pasta...and then chase it with some gooey sugary sweet thing and I am in heaven. I see God in pasta. He talks to me through pasta. I believe the Creator is in the carbohydrates. I don't drink, I do occasionally smoke (at the Casino mostly or when my son is in trouble and about to go to jail). I'm not a big fan of fried foods (although I lived in the land of fried food). On a scale of 1 - 10 I am probably a 7 in terms of healthy living.

Could I do better? Sure. Do I want to? Not really. Three years ago - without warning- I developed a digestion thing. The worst of it lasted 2 years. Things I used to love tasted bad. I was often nauseous. It was crappy. Tests showed nothing. I lost weight and went down 2 sizes...so I guess in some sense it was worth it. New clothes are nice to have. Beside s that, and out of nowhere, my joints began to ache. My muscles would hurt (not from exertion I assure you). I increased my exercise and felt worse. I developed a scalp condition that flares up when I get my hair dyed. My eyesight sucks. I have arthritis (thank you Mom and Dad) in my hips. I just stand here and like an old house my shingles fall off.

There's also the "visible signs of aging". I can count the rings around my neck and determine my age. I could hide small pine nuts in my laugh lines. The tiny lines around my lips look a bit like a sunburst - without the sun. The "freckles" earned from years of tanning with baby oil, iodine and a reflector, are no longer cute.
It all sucks...and to make it worse I am reminded of the lecture I once gave my Mom to grow old with dignity and stop whining. If there is an afterlife of any sort I'll bet she is peeing in her pants laughing at me. Sorry Mom, I didn't know.

Advice is plentiful: "Exercise more" I do. "Do yoga" Too boring. "Become a vegetarian" I want my hamburgers!" "Meditate" My mind is never quiet. "Increase your intake of (are you ready?) B vitamins, D, C, Fish oil, antiinflammatories, calcium blah blah blah" Did it. I don't feel any better. I spend $75 a month on supplements. I exercise with the Mormons (a cool exercise show on BYU broadcasting), I walk on my treadmill. I used to take 1200 miligrams of calcium a day (but now they think that causes heart issues)but now take a little less. I take 2,000 units of vitamin D (but they think that causes cancer) I still take it because in Wisconsin we don't see the sun for 6 months a year. My chiropractor suggested an anti-arthritis diet which basically would eliminate everything from my diet except celery and apples. And celery and apples are staples in my turkey stuffing which, of course, is full of BREAD.

I am declaring war on healthy living. I shun it. Deprivation is not an ingredient in my happy life. None of it works anyway. Like my house, I will stand here in the middle of the frozen tundra and let what happens happen. I will be slathered in moisturizer, eating a hamburger, eyeing a chunk of chocolate cake all while sitting on my size 4 butt and reading a good book. I might not die old;I will die happier.

Just shut up

"It must be awful to take your kid to jail," she said to me. ""How wierd."Yes," I reply, "It sucks and it's sad."

I should be a pro at this. I've been taking my son to jail, off and on, since he was 14. But you know what? It doesn't get any easier. You don't feel any less sad, or worried or defeated. You feel awful for him and for you. And unless you've been there - you don't get it. And if you're the parent of a "normal" kid - you'll never get it. Ever.

So in case you ever find yourself talking to a friend whose child (adult or otherwise) is going to be a guest of the county for several months, you're probably better off not saying anything. Because most of what you say is hurtful - well meant, but hurtful.

Here are some things you should not say:

"At least you'll know where he is at night."
"Maybe this time he'll learn his lesson and change the way he lives." (Note: people with personality disorders do not change. This is not a possibility)
"This is probably for the best." (Seriously?)
"Too bad you don't have other kids" or (if you have other kids) "Thank goodness you have other kids." (Do you really think having other kids would mean that I wouldn't hurt? Or worry?)
"At least you'll get a break from him." (sigh)
"You need to just let him go. Don't let him back in the house when he is released." (Oh, do you think I'll sleep better if I know he's jobless and homeless?)

It goes on. Same rules apply to things people might say when someone dies:

"At least he is with God." (Well, maybe I don't want God to have him just yet)
"Now he's an angel and he's watching over you." (Um hmm...what are you smoking?)
'She was just too special for this world." (according to whom?)
"You've got to move on. S/he would have wanted you to be happy." (Grief does not have a timetable people...and how do you know what s/he would have wanted?)
"Thank god you have your other children." (see previous paragraph)
"I know just how you feel." (No, you don't.)

A hug. A kind word. An offer to "listen" - those things have great value when people are hurting. Most of the other stuff doesn't.

If you can't hug, or listen then shut up and leave me alone.