Mandatory 50-year life sentence/period

I’ve finally figured out my life’s work! It is to genetically engineer human beings so that they die on or near their 50th birthday. No doubt I’ll have a big problem finding folks to test it out on—the usual research populations for the life sciences are all in Africa where life expectancy is considerably short of five decades—but I won’t let that deter me. No, siree, Bill! I’ve got the fire in my belly!

You only have to consider the money that will be saved here in the US to see that Foundations and Think Tanks and Federal Agencies and Business Roundtables will be lining up to hand out the moolah for my research. It will solve the Social Security problem in one fell swoop! Medicare will be a thing of the past! No more pesky 401k retirement plans coming due, so the financial markets will stabilize! As far as I can see, there’s absolutely no downside.

I mean, once a person turns 50 there’s only two ways of thinking about their life that they can choose from, and neither is pretty. With the wisdom of so-called “middle” age comes the knowledge that you didn’t know a rat’s arse about anything when you were younger. And you either become full of regrets that you didn’t do better, or you remake yourself into that “something better” and never stop crowing about it. Especially not if you can spin a book tour and a PBS special out of your newfound fabulousness, thereby adding to the general miserableness of pledge months on public television.

History is replete with people over the age of 49 who made everyone’s life miserable. Julia Child—51 when she drowned American health care in cholesterol-laden French sauces. Bill Ralston—50 when he was appointed head of news and current affairs at TVNZ. Margaret Thatcher became leader of the British Conservative Party at age 50. Ronald Reagan was 55 when he became Governor of California. Kathy Bates was 50 when she played ball-bustin’ Libby Holden in Primary Colors… wait a minute! I’m beginning to lose my own argument.

But the one thing a 50-year-old did that I most dislike is this: the Special Olympics. Oh, sure, it’s all very well to make nice speeches about how the mentally challenged should be entitled to the same civil rights as anyone else, but would you let your daughter marry one? And, oh, sure, again, Governor Schwarzenegger’s mother-in-law Eunice Shriver wasn’t quite 50 when she started along that path, but it’s doubtful that anyone else could have taken over and turned what started out as a backyard romp into the multi-million dollar corporate sponsorship opportunity that it is today.

Of course, I’m prejudiced from the start because I think that love of competition is the root of all evil—especially wars. (Money is just a synonym for competition, as any capitalist can tell you.) So I don’t like the Special Olympics motto: Let me win, But if I cannot win, Let me be brave in the attempt. That is way too warlike for me—you “win” a war; you commend soldiers for being “brave”. Why not a nice cheery motto like: Look at me go!

It’s all a conspiracy, a plot against Mother Nature’s own genetic engineering. I’ve known this since 1971 when I applied for a job working with young adults who had Down’s Syndrome. After my interview, I was taken into the living area where the residents were having mandatory dance lessons. All the fun for the young men and women was relentlessly squelched by their being forced to learn how to waltz and foxtrot. Did I mention this was 19-blankety-blank-71?! Some over-50-year-old’s bright idea, I expect.

True, I’ve never raised a child with Down’s Syndrome, but I’ve spent time with a few people with the double-21 chromosome and they seemed naturally gentle and happy. Isn’t that a step UP the evolutionary ladder, not down it? Shouldn’t we be learning to acquire their traits, not forcing them to learn competitiveness and “bravery” from us? According to a New Scientist report, about 1 in 800 live-born babies in the U.S. have DS, which is quite a significant pebble in the gene pool.

Oh, why can’t we just let people be happy and enjoy life in peace? (For 49 years.)

--PEACE—

rosalea.barker@gmail.com

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