By David Rutter
If modern medical science prevails and I do my part by looking both ways before crossing the street, there is some chance I will get to be 75.
The age. Not the speed.
In fact, the science of predictable death forecasting assesses that I have a 62 percent chance at this moment of reaching 80, and a worth-the-bet chance of making it to 90.
If you statistically excluded childhood deaths and those who step in front of a truck, I can hit 100 without a sweat.
Because I have never had a 62 percent chance of anything good happening to me, I consider these odds are, to turn a phrase, literally a mortal lock.
But reaching for some statistical finish line is not the point.
What do you want out of life when you are 75?
I want to be “ANTIFA provocateur” Martin Gugino, the witness-for-justice Buffalo peace activist, who somehow tricked riot police into pushing him down, bashing his head on the pavement and letting his brain fluids gush out.
Posted on June 9, 2020