Ladies and gentlemen, we have been betrayed! Forget all the nonsense the medical establishment has fed you about healthy living and longevity. It’s all been a pack of lies and I have proof. Exhibit A: Next week The Rolling Stones–yes, the ones with an average age higher than the members of the U.S. Supreme Court–kick off their first tour of American stadiums since 2007.
How is it possible that Sir Michael Philip Jagger, just shy of 72, is still whirling like a dervish while I can’t tie my orthopedic shoes without triggering a muscle spasm? Take one look at him gyrating across the stage and then tell me how a lifetime regimen of sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll can be bad for you. He’s still got the moves like Jagger whereas I, the clean-living one, have the moves like someone playing a deranged version of Twister, awkwardly maneuvering to accommodate my plantar fasciitis, sciatica, and positional vertigo.
Well, starting today, I am getting serious about my health. To be honest, when I was much younger, I did play around a little with better living through sex, drugs—well, alcohol, anyway—and rock ‘n’ roll, but I realize that if you want real progress, you need to be consistent over time. So, I am committing to Mick’s three-pronged approach. Of course, I understand that coming late to the party as I am, I may need to make some adjustments to his rigorous routine.
Adjustment #1, Sex: It will be limited to one partner, my husband. And my husband will sadly confirm that many nights I am so tired it would take a lot more than the Rolling Stones to start me up. As for physical limitations, again, expectations must be adjusted downward. These days I believe I would need lumbar support for phone sex.
Adjustment #2, Drugs: Okay, I am a total wash-out here, as I am probably one of three people who came of age in the last 50 years who never took any illegal substances (although, I did flirt with a pre-illegal substance, the artificial sweetener cyclamate before it was banned for causing cancer). It is unlikely that I will begin taking any hard drugs now unless, of course, Metamucil counts, in which case, I’m in deep. That leaves alcohol, a substance which I did use in my younger days, but apparently not in sufficient quantities to benefit from its preservative properties as was obviously the case with Sir Mick. Most of my alcohol consumption nowadays comes in the form of Nyquil.
Adjustment #3, Rock ‘n’ Roll: I am pretty good on this front, although it was recently pointed out to me that I should check my Spotify playlists for expiration dates. I didn’t realize that music had a limited shelf life, but I guess time really does keep on “slippin’, slippin,’ slippin’ into the future.” Unfortunately, it seems I spend more and more time slidin’, slidin’, slidin’ into the past.
I know it is unrealistic to think that I will ever see the results that Mick Jagger has enjoyed due to a lifetime of full-strength sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll, but maybe, with a little luck and determination, my watered-down plan will at least enable me to move along with him through a verse or two of “Shattered.” Aw, who am I kidding? I couldn’t follow his footsteps even with my new arch supports. Maybe I’ll sit down for a while, give my bunions a rest and just hum along. You know, I’m feeling better already.
A version of this post originally appeared on the Huffington Post.