But it dawned on me recently that, as I've gotten older, every day becomes an immunity challenge in which I try not to vote myself off the island. Permanently, if you get my drift.
Take eating, for instance. I mean, you live your first 40+ years pretty much eating whatever you like with no thought for the consequences, mostly because there aren't any. But then you hit a Certain Age, and suddenly your internal organs go all geriatric on you, and you don't dare eat the wrong things lest your gizzards implode in a great mushroom cloud of deathness.
So eating out becomes an additional challenge, because you have to look for menu options that are:
- low fat
- high fiber
- low carb
- high in antioxidents
- low calorie
- packed in BPA-free containers
- endorsed by Wilford Brimley, who apparently is eating the right things because he's 175 years old
I don't know why restaurants even bother putting little icons on the menu to mark the least dangerous foods (geriatric organ-wise). Basically, your food choices are 1) shrubbery, and b) green tea (which is, in fact, a liquid made from shrubbery).
That's why I've started choosing restaurants based on the landscaping around the building. That stroll from the parking lot to the front door, past the greenery under the windows? That's the older person's version of the salad bar, buffet table, and dessert cart. Yummo.
I'm pleased to report that the all-shrubbery diet has kept me alive thus far. Showering without my glasses on, however, is another story. Stay tuned.