Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," handy free advice on lifestyle options and upholstery maintenance! No day without Febreze, I always say.
The number of people who read print newspapers is dwindling alarmingly. Why, I do not know. I would die without my newspapers!
Today in the New York Times there was a story about a web site called Real Age. (I'm not linking. You'll see why. If you want to find the site, just run the two words together.)
Real Age invites you to key in your birthday and your email. Then it asks about 150 questions about your health, sex life, family life, diet, exercise regimen, and personal habits. It lists all kinds of diseases and asks if you have them. It also measures peace of mind by asking about your financial situation, your marital situation, and your job status.
After you answer all those questions, Real Age emails you your ... real age. Meaning, the age your body has gotten to be due to your lack of vigilance.
The New York Times took interest in this site because about 27 million people have taken the Real Age quiz. And Real Age has promptly turned all that information over to Big Pharma so it can market its products to all those poor souls out there who are afraid to grow old and die.
To me, this site provided a totally diverting Discordian worship moment.
I started by falsifying my age, weight, and height. Then I proceeded to answer every question with the healthiest possible answer. Seatbelts? Always. Red meat? Never. Alcohol consumption? Never. Parents? Alive and healthy.
On and on went the fiction. Money worries? No. Job worries? No. Annual income? More than $350,000. Ever ride a motorcycle? Nope.
There were only two items that I could not bring myself to lie about. I do not take a multi-vitamin. Never have. And I do not do "strength training." I did strength training for about two years with a personal trainer, back when my family was in the chips. All I got out of it was an upper body reminiscent of a middle linebacker, and a chronic case of nerve damage in my elbow. The over-sculpted muscles are gone, thank goodness, although while I had them I sure could play a mean game of volleyball.
Back to Real Age: You think I'm gonna be honest on some web site about my psychiatric health? I lie to myself about it!
Bottom line, I shaved four years off my false age. I would have shaved more if I had clicked "yes" for the vitamin and "yes" for the weight-lifting.
Free advice from Anne! If you want to be young again, go take this quiz like I did! I'm not 50 anymore, I'm 35!
It gets better. Real Age is a gift that keeps giving. I set up a Google email awhile back, and I still take all my emails through Yahoo. So it will be easy to pick out the vitamin advertisements I get on my email from my little jaunt to Real Age. That'll be about all I'll get in my Google box.
I never thought it would be so easy to be young again. Computers truly are miraculous.