There is not a baby boomer who cannot readily identify the origin of that phrase and have a greater appreciation for it as they continue their march to this milestone age.
Paul McCartney wrote the melody for that now old tune around the age of fourteen back in the Spring of 1956. It was released in 1967 on the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album, when he was a mere lad of twenty-five, and yours truly was an even younger nine years old. Sixty-four seemed like eons into the future for both of us, because it was.
As the years passed, I passed the key markers along the path, quietly turning thirty, with an accompanying birthday party that featured baby bottles and pampers; forty, when I had completed twenty years of military service, and several of my friends and I had to embrace the realization that we had somehow gone from the young shavetail second lieutenants to being the very “old farts”—the colonels that we had made fun of during physical training. Fifty brought membership into AARP, more frequent prostate checks, and watching calories. Sixty brought on the dreaded colonoscopy, but sixty-four still was off in the distance.
As sixty-four approached, I still thought of it as just another milestone marker along the highway of life, and assumed that I would be just as strong, agile, thin, and have the same full head of hair. Well, sixty-four came and went last year, and while I still workout six days a week, mow the lawn and shovel the snow, I am not nearly as agile as evidenced by the less than graceful landing I achieve when jumping fences; there has definitely been some loss of muscle mass and strength, and the only thing thin about my body is the hair on the back of my head. Nonetheless, I liked sixty-four, and played the song regularly during that year, feeling very blessed to be enjoying a meds-free life, still capable of hiking and biking and keeping up with my grandchildren.
This past year, I had the dubious honor of trading my very cool, retired-military Tricare Prime health insurance for the famous red, white, and blue Medicare card, and Tricare for Life is now my secondary insurance. Thank goodness we will never have to worry about purchasing Medicare Supplements and companion Part D drug plans. Gratefully, the Open Enrollment season with the bombardment of calls from Med Supp salespeople, as well as the never-ending barrage of commercials featuring Joe Namath and William Devane is now over for another year.
Sixty-five is supposed to be the new Fifty, but I am beginning to seriously question that as I talk to my friends who are quietly entering retirement with an assortment of aches and pains, and a rash of doctors’ appointments for newly identified acute and chronic conditions that sometimes threaten to upend their retirement and vacation plans. I also noted that references to shoulder, knee, and hip replacements seemed to have a higher than usual presence in the annual Christmas letters and cards that we received this year. Fortunately, the advances in pharmacology and medical science have made these procedures relatively uneventful, as evidenced by the nine-hour hospital stay that my wife enjoyed this past Fall with her second hip replacement, as opposed to the 30-hour overnight stay that accompanied her first replacement nine years ago. The “warranty” on these replacement parts has also improved over the years, and recipients no longer must plan on a “replacement of the replacement” while still having fun with TSA as they pass through airport security.
In 1900, Teddy Roosevelt was president, and the life expectancy in the United States was only forty-seven years of age. In 1935, when his cousin Franklin Delano Roosevelt signed Social Security into existence, as a supplement to pensions and other retirement income enjoyed by citizens of our country, the life expectancy was up to sixty-three years and benefits would begin at age sixty-five. With sixteen workers for each beneficiary, the system was solvent and the future looked bright. Today, with life expectancy far exceeding that, and in the absence of pensions, and the ratio of workers to beneficiaries down to 2.5:1, there is much debate on the future of Social Security, Medicare, and the other “entitlement” programs.
Prior to COVID-19, the life expectancy in the United States had risen to 78.8. This was an average for both men and women, with women still maintaining an edge in longevity. Today, for those born in 2022 this life expectancy is 77.5 years according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Some states do have longer life expectancies, with Hawaii leading the way at 81.15, and Mississippi having the shortest at 74.91.
While countries like Japan are seeing their societies continue to age—since 2009 more adult diapers are sold per annum than their infant counterparts—the life expectancy in Japan is now 85.9 according to worldometers.info. In Switzerland, it is 84.4, and in France it is 83.3. The U.S. now enjoys the dubious distinction of being in 42nd place in terms of life expectancy among countries around the world.
What has caused life expectancy in the United States to lag behind other countries? Some experts attribute this to gaps in health insurance coverage or health care access, as well as deeper pockets of urban poverty, as well as an inequality between the “haves” and “have nots” which notoriously rears its ugly head in terms of medicine and health care. It is common knowledge that numbers do not always accurately portray the facts, and to this end, also influencing the “average” or median age in the U.S. is the fact that there is a great disparity in the life expectancies between Caucasian Americans (78.6), African Americans (72.9), Asian Americans (86.3), Hispanics (80.6), and Native Americans (77.4). There are counties in the US where the life expectancy of its residents is 86.3 years or as low as 66.81. The Boeing Study surveyed its own workforce and determined that those who retired at age 55 lived until age 83, while those who retired at age 65 only lived an additional 18 months!
While we still rank first in the world in terms of national net worth, because of the disparity in access to health care, and the above factors, life expectancy in the US is no less than six to seven years behind the world leaders. Further complicating this issue is the recent debate over vaccinations, and the ever-growing trend of deaths attributable to suicide, homicide, accidents, opioids, and fentanyl.
Fear not. There is still hope. I recently read a book recommended to me by my youngest daughter entitled Outlive written by Peter Attia, MD, a prominent longevity expert. In his book, Dr. Attia recounts how he discovered how unhealthy he was in his thirties despite being a marathon swimmer and avid biker. Under the premise that we need to adopt Medicine 3.0 and strive to live longer healthier lives by changing our paradigms about medicine and lifestyle, Dr. Attia methodically presents how we can do this and strive to live longer, healthier lives. He explains why your bloodwork and cholesterol results at your annual physical may be normal, but you might still be unhealthy–because “average” is different from “optimal.” He advocates prevention and early detection, exercise, and a more holistic approach to life. The goal is to feel the impact of acute and chronic conditions at a later age. The key to this is to eat better, sleep better, to remain active, focus on walking, retaining muscle mass, as well as exercising your mind, being mindful about our vision and hearing, as well as regular socialization. I am pleased to report that I had already adopted many of his suggestions prior to reading the book and can attest to observable positive changes in my own life.
Sadly, I have already outlived one of my adult children because of cancer. Nonetheless, I am still shooting for being around for the Tricentennial in 2076. I will be approaching my 118th birthday when it occurs. I hope to still be living on my own, and annoying multiple generations of my family with my own brand of Dad jokes.
