For some reason, I can't shake this nagging feeling that I'm going to die before the day's end. When I woke up an hour ago this morning, I was no longer in my twenties. Up to and including yesterday, I had suffered from the delusion that I had "just graduated" from college. In reality, that rather anticlimactic event occurred seven-and-a-half years ago.
The United States government ensures me that there are in fact many people over 30. According to data pulled from the Census of 2000, 56 million men and women were aged 55 or older at that time. Still, though, I'm not buying it. We all know that number do not lie. We also know they don't necessarily tell the truth. And let's not forget that those numbers have been given to us by the government.
Many scientists believe there is evidence that man's maximum life span is between 115 and 120 years. The case of Jeanne Clement is promising--a French woman that lived to 122 years, 164 days. Again, we run into the statistics problem, and the fact that Clement was a woman. Unless I undergo some surgery, I will be shedding this mortal coil as a man.
Nothing beats anecdotal evidence. (Just ask Christopher Hitchens.) I personally have met at least three other guys that surpassed 30:
1) My Dad. But for God's sake the man ingests upwards of forty vitamins a day. If that's what it takes, I don't know if I can do it.
2) My friend and fellow author, Nate Green. Nate has only been 30 for 5 days though, so the jury's still out.
3) Michael York. As it turns out, Logan's Run is a true story.
So there you have it. The best evidence that men can live beyond the age of 30 comes to us via a campy sci-fi film from 1976. That's good enough for me.
3 hours ago