I have never been one for numbers, which means the proper use of a calculator, but the way I figure it as I write these words, if I make it to the top level, I have 176 weeks to live. I got that number by adding up the weeks I have been on Spaceship Earth and subtracting from the average human lifespan of 4,000 weeks. Yep, you read that right. All those weeks add up to 76.9 years, so I rounded up to 77 years. Keep in mind that number represents the average ages derived from studies done worldwide, not just the USofA where women on average live longer than men by 5.9 years.
One reason, in my opinion, for women having the edge is not covered in the health-related reports on men and women, but psychologists know that laughter is a major factor in keeping the mind and body healthy. That is why women live longer; they find men amusing. They laugh at our childish ways and our blundering attempts at proving we are the stronger gender. They should be more grateful we are here. We are keeping them healthy. They need us to live. But I digress.
While different studies from 2003 through 2005 show minor differences, I will use those numbers, which most often occur. The 5.9 years mentioned above is the gap between women’s life expectancy of 79.1 years and men’s at 73.9. That is upsetting because as I write this, April Fool’s Day, marks the beginning of my 73.8 day of existence. Maybe I should type faster.
These statistics came to mind while perusing one of the social media sites where friends new and old can be found, and I learned from a post that Kenny had passed away last January. He was one year older than I, so I suppose there is comfort in knowing he surpassed the men’s expected due date by a year or so. But he didn’t get to that top number of 4,000 weeks; or beyond. And most surely the cited averages are not set in stone for all humans. How many live among us, both men and women, who are now in their mid to late 80s and 90s? The matriarch of a long-time Greenfield family passed away recently after racking up at least 5,304 weeks.
So, I guess the statistics don’t matter as much, but still I think when we learn of the passing of someone in our past and we remember the years gone by we feel a hurt in our heart knowing that person did not have more time. I haven’t spoken to Kenny since his uncle’s funeral, I don’t know how many years ago; but knowing he is gone still stung just because of our history.
I have a photo I believe is a birthday party, possibly mine, where I look to be around 5 years old, surrounded by eight kids. With Kenny’s passing, that makes five in the photo who died in what can only be called “before their time.” His brother Gene and cousin Kathy are standing next to each other; both are gone. It was from Kathy’s sister, Caryn, I learned of Kenny. Their brother Hal was a close friend for years and now we only see each other every KCHS class reunion, and at our age who knows if we’ll ever see each other again. Another Cathy pictured is from the old Fifth Street Gang; she passed away some eight or so years ago. Opposite my older brother stood John, who lived four doors down the block; we called him McGee and he has been gone for decades. Happily, I recently got a few minutes with two in the photo, Ginger and Darold; and both are well.
I suppose it is like that with most of us; we learn someone is gone and we realize no matter how long it has been since we last enjoyed that person’s company, we feel that sense of loss. I ponder how much of self is involved with that feeling of loss; is it selfish to miss those we’ve lost just because our lives are lessened by their absence? For a spate of time starting about four years ago, those Greenfield faces and personalities, those friends I knew so well, were leaving one by one. Roger, then Earl (Rusty), then Dale and then Stephen, and with them went a part of the rest of us who shared the same childhood and young adult experiences. And that does not include high school; my class of 1970 has lost far too many.
It would seem the best way to gain from those who have gone before us is to enjoy the life we have today and appreciate the family and friends who are still part of our lives. Thus endeth the homespun philosophy.
***
Now this: our so-called allies in the Middle East are calling upon Mr. Trump to continue his war until there is a complete regime change in Iran. That will take time. The same countries that insisted Mr. Trump sign the OPEC 2020 deal, which gave us $105 oil barrel prices and $5 gas pump prices, now want us to stay longer. Why? Saudi Arabia is selling oil at reduced prices and still raking in $300 million a day, SaudiAramaco is now the largest company in the world. The other OPEC countries are also making millions selling their oil. The Trump clan is heavily invested in Saudi Arabia, making $50 million in 2024 alone. The Saudis infused $2 billion into Trump son-in-law Jared Kushner’s company. Qatar gifted Mr. Trump a jet that will cost taxpayers millions to fix to his standards, which he will then keep for himself. You can bet Mr. Trump will continue this war no matter how many American military members get wounded or die or what the cost will be for the American taxpayer. Thus endeth the rant.
Take care. Peace.
