Mention “aging” to someone in their 50s — like me — and you’re likely to provoke a grim expression. We feel the aging process in our muscles and bones, we get that ugly twinge after a sudden move, and we see it when we look in the mirror and notice the grey hairs, the wrinkles, and the pathetic turkey neck.
But what if aging could be slowed? What if therapies and treatments could be developed that would decelerate the ravages of time, or stave it off altogether?
Speaking as one of the aging generation, I’m all in favor of seeing whether reasonable treatments can be developed. At the same time, however, I question whether heroic efforts should be devoted to deferring the effects of aging when there are many other public health issues that also need attention. And a public health focus on aging makes sense only if the years that are added are healthy, sane, active, non-institutionalized years. When you regularly visit a nursing home and see how many Americans are living their final years, you can legitimately question whether living longer is inevitably a great thing.
Yesterday Ohio State crushed Rutgers, 56-17, in a game that was out of hand by the second quarter. Ohio State rolled up more than 580 yards of offense, had a 35-7 halftime lead, was ahead 56-10 after three quarters, and then took its foot off the gas pedal.
The game was an important win for the Buckeyes, and not just because they need to win every remaining game by convincing margins if they hope to have a chance to play in the first college football playoff this year. No, the game also was important for one of those reasons that sports fans understand intuitively, but non-sports fans will never fully grasp: Rutgers is a new member of the Big Ten, and therefore it was essential that Ohio State crush them like a bug on their first visit to the Horseshoe.
You see, there is such a thing as conference pride. The Big Ten has become a whipping boy in the national press for laying eggs in big out-of-conference games, but we can only imagine the sneers and snickers and sarcasm from the ESPN talking heads if one of the newbies won the conference championship during their first year as a member. We simply can’t let that happen. Ohio State has held up its end of the bargain, administering thorough beat-downs to both Rutgers and Maryland. Now we’ll hope that the other members of the Old Conference follow through, too.
Jacksonville was the birthplace of one of the greatest American rock bands ever — Lynyrd Skynyrd — and also hosts the annual Jacksonville Jazz Festival, the second-largest jazz festival in the nation. It has a big-league sports team in the NFL’s Jacksonville Jaguars.
Why the sudden interest in Jacksonville? Just a little parental due diligence. We learned a few days ago that Richard has gotten a job at The Florida Times-Union, Jacksonville’s newspaper, and will be moving down to The River City to start his professional reporting career in earnest in the next few weeks.
Jacksonville sounds like a pretty interesting place to cover and we’ll look forward to learning even more about it through Richard’s reporting. Congratulations, Richard!
America has enjoyed many blessings. Two of the more obvious ones are extraordinary national parks and exceptional women singers.
On the latter category: if you haven’t already done so, give a listen to the Norah Jones CD The Fall. Sure, I know it’s been out there for a while. So has Zion National Park. That doesn’t make it any less amazing.
You could spend days talking about incredible female voices in American music. Judy Garland. Rosemary Clooney. Aretha Franklin. Patsy Cline. Janis Joplin. Linda Ronstadt. Gladys Knight.
In The Fall, Norah Jones holds her own with this impossible competition. Her smoky voice, with its deliberate pace and terrific lower register, adds an incredible depth to her songs. Listen to I Wouldn’t Need You and December if you don’t believe me.
Friday night, after a great night out catching up with old friends and a few cold Blue Moon Beligian Wheats, is just about the perfect time to listen to Norah Jones.
Yesterday morning the ever-upbeat Chipper Secretary came into my office with a big smile on her face, handed me a card, and said: “Happy Boss’s Day!”
Eh? Boss’s Day?
Of course! How could I have forgotten? That explained the din from outside the window, where the famous Columbus Boss’s Day parade was passing by. As the CS and I looked outside to see the throngs of ecstatic celebrants crowding the streets, a band was playing one of the many selections from the great American songbook recognizing the crucial role played by bosses in our society. One of the many floats — all of which are hand made by office workers and must be decorated exclusively with shredded, recycled copier paper — depicted an appreciative employee receiving a “coaching session” from a friendly mentor that turned around his lagging career. It was followed by the popular Shriner mini-cars, which stopped and disgorged gangs of would-be “bosses” juggling paperweights and other desk ornaments as happy children shrieked with laughter, then a man dressed like a stapler who handed out free samples to the grateful parade-watchers.
Of course, the celebration didn’t stop outside the window. In our office excited people gathered in conference rooms to eat traditional Boss’s Cake, each hoping to get the piece with the tiny gold bowler hat that presages a year of “exceeds expectation” performance reviews. Later the ritual Boss’s Day games began, and one of the secretaries set a new firm speed record for successfully placing a five-party conference call while simultaneously booting up a PowerPoint presentation. By the end of the day, exhausted but happy workers were ready to go back to their homes, ready for their families to share in the fellowship that always wells in the breast of every employee when Boss’s Day ends.
These days we’ve got plenty of people advising us not to panic about the Ebola virus. Whether it’s those ubiquitous, generic “psychologists” who seem to pop up whenever there is some significant incident, or public health officials who want to reassure us that in the grand scheme of things Ebola is really not that big a deal, experts galore are urging us to control the inner demons that might otherwise transform us into a howling, red-eyed, torch-wielding mob that could end modern civilization as we know it.
The counseling to avoid panic is a dodge, of course, because no one is panicking. But by depicting concerns about how the Ebola issue has been poorly handled as indications of unfortunate mass hysteria, the people who have dropped the ball can deflect and avoid legitimate inquiry. Tsk, tsk! They’re the rational ones; the rest of us are excitable, poorly informed boobs who are just going to make matters worse. Like the policeman at the yellow tape of a disastrous crime scene, they just want us to move along.
Is it panicky and irrational to question how and why these circumstances could possibly occur? If you were one of the 132 unsuspecting passengers flying from Cleveland to Dallas with that nurse — people that officials are now trying to trace and presumably monitor — wouldn’t you think it was entirely legitimate to question the competence of the CDC and to ask whether it was following any kind of meaningful containment strategy?
It is becoming increasingly clear that the CDC has badly fumbled this situation, which means that it is failing at the principal reason for its existence in the first place. Demanding answers about how that happened is not a a sign of hysteria, but rather of requiring accountability by a government agency that simply has not done its job and, in the process, is exposing the people it is supposed to protect to unnecessary risk.