Monday, February 09, 2004
30
I’m 30. And I’m thinking of what that actually means in the context of the human lifespan.
Two centuries ago, when the average lifespan was 60, I would be middle aged. However, given a steady advance in medical technology over the course of my lifetime, I can reasonably expect to live to 90… I am therefore only one third of the way through my life. Perhaps medical advancements will be even greater, and assuming I am rich enough to afford life-prolonging techniques, I may even live to be 120… I am therefore merely one quarter done with this mortal coil. Or entering the realm of science fiction: nano-bio-chemo-lubricants are invented a few decades from now, allowing me to live 300 years… I am therefore barely a child, one tenth of my lifespan behind me.
But lets be realistic. Forget the Geritol commercials and the fluff pieces on local television about swingin’ seniors who run marathons and are in better health than youngsters half their age, the fact of the matter is that for most people, there is a serious decline in their quality of life after the age of 60. As Mark Renton said in Trainspotting “We all get old an we cannae hack it anymore…” Artistically, people do their best work while young, and after middle age, they’re resting on their laurels, treading water… as an artist, I am therefore middle aged… again.
In all these calculations thus far, I could do worse. Without exception, I have over half, or more than half my life yet to live. However:
I have never been in love, and as we all know, the chances of finding someone after forty are slim to none. I have additional disadvantages as well. My romantic lifespan is three-fourths over, and not looking too spry.
If I were to have a child, the prime years would be my thirties. My procreative life is also three-fourths over and given my lack of money, love, and viable biology… looks like I’ll be raising cats for the bottom two-thirds of my life.
Economists tell us that a middle class adult should make one thousand dollars for every year of life. I should therefore make 30,000 a year. I made 15k in 2003. There’s no life clock calculation here… I just think it’s a sad fact.
Many people tell me that the thirties are the best decade of their lives, and I hope to say the same someday. But however the next ten years turn out, I am painfully aware that my life will end, and very little of it will matter to anyone.
