My Uncle Joe was ahead of his time. One day during the year he turned 96, he strode into the living room where my family was gathered, his head high and chest out, and shook everyone's hand in greeting. When my turn came, his grip felt like a vise closing on my fingers.
I said, "Uncle Joe, you're almost 100 years old. How have you stayed so strong?"
"I get up every day at 5:30," he said. "I spend a half hour on calisthenics. I eat bran and fruit. Then I play 18 holes of golf, walking from one hole to the other." You could forgive most of Uncle Joe's peers if they thought that kind of routine was too much bother. Most people got all the exercise they could stand while washing clothes, carrying bricks, and digging ditches. They walked almost everywhere they went.
But the average life expectancy when Uncle Joe was born was 47 years.[1,2] The leading cause of death in those days was infectious diseases.[2]The flu epidemic of 1918, for example, struck down the young more often than the old.[3] So planning to turn 96 didn't make sense for most people.
