Here until Christmas Day 2043!

I was reading a New York Times publication called Booming, a newsletter all about baby boomers. One of the articles referenced a Web site called Deathclock.com

Yes, it’s true. Baby boomers are obsessed with every aspect of our precious lives including the need to know the exact moment when (or should I say if?) we will actually die. Your birth date, outlook on life and body mass index is all the DeathClock needs to tell you the day you will die and how many seconds of your life remain before you meet your maker. 

            I’m a bit confused about my own demise though. I made the mistake of checking the “DeathClock” twice in ten minutes. It wasn’t that I was unhappy with my first prognosis which said I would die on New Year’s Eve in the year 2042, one month shy of my 95^th birthday. Sure, given a choice I would prefer to die early on New Year’s Day after watching New Year’s Rockin’ Eve hosted by a hologram of Dick Clark, a flute of Piper-Heidsieck Rare 2002, at the ready.

            But, in doing a quick fact check for this post, I was surprised and a bit chagrined to discover that the Death Clock may not be completely accurate. My second turn at bat revealed that my departure from earth would be Christmas Day, 2043. Either way it seems I’m destined to go out on a major holiday. Right, I get another whole year, which is wonderful, but what if I go before I have a chance to open my presents?

Note to family: Be sure to save your Christmas gift receipts for any gifts you plan to give me in 2043. Whether I get to open my presents or not, you’ll need them. On the other hand, given what you now know, perhaps a pearl gray suit and a new pair of shoes would be an ideal choice. Make sure you get me pointy black ones.

And don’t plan any big New Year’s Eve celebration for yourself that year. Considering how old I’ll be when I pass, there won’t be any money left for you celebrate. Given my entitled baby boomer status in this world, I expect an elaborate funeral service mourning my passing. I want Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder singing my favorites, live and in person.     

Naturally, I’m thrilled to know that I am going to be here another 30 years. I suspect a lot of baby boomers will be around to celebrate turning 90 and even 100. Of course the generations following us will have a substantial burden. For one thing they will be stuck in whatever middle management jobs still exist because we boomers will be holding on to our senior staff roles as long as possible…and collecting Social Security to boot.

It’s tempting I’m sure to blame us for refusing to step off center stage. Once you’ve been in the limelight though, even if it’s limited to being one in a group of millions, it’s very hard to let go.

Listen: younger people are just as prone to this disease as we are. That’s why so many reality show contestants continue to grasp at anything they can to extend their time in the spotlight. The bachelor’s Sean comes to mind. He headed for Dancing with the Stars as soon as he proffered the final rose. Then he agreed to marry his true love on the tube. That is until he may have decided to postpone the wedding. Would you be shocked if he gained 150 pounds so he could get on the Biggest Loser?

Not that I envy Sean. But I do wish I could arrange to have a camera follow me around for my 840 million remaining seconds.