I am shocked at how many years I have lived. I became aware about the age ten that my grandfather was 59 and that was the life expectancy of American men. On more recent checking on that morbidity scale, I discovered that my cohort life expectancy in 1935 was 59 years. Actually, the public health and medical progress and antibiotics made the survival rate much better. Check your own cohort’s survival percentage from this 247 Special Report

For me …
United States population 1935 = 127,521,006
United States population 2017 = 326,001,517
Percentage increase since 1935 = 255%
United States births in 1935 = 2,155,105
82-year-old population in 2017 = 1,049,356
People born in 1935 who are still alive: 48.7%

There is a huge difference between the expected life expectancy in 1935 and what actually happened. I was unaware of that and had been saying earlier today that I was twenty-three years past my expiration date. That is true only if they stamped my expiration date on my butt, which they didn’t as you can see below.

20 month old boy getting out of a tub

Charles Scamahorn age 20 months taking a bath.

I went to the UU church early and as usual took a stone for use in the labyrinth. Today’s offering was a very ragged fifteen-pound strange lava piece. I’m the only one doing this personal ritual but it gives me a chance to walk the labyrinth and think with focused attention on some topic of my own choosing. Today I was observing the uniqueness of each and every stone and its personal development and how common it probably was in its native situation. It was just a blending together of whatever was there and then a separating and a remolding over and over until someone picked it up and brought it to its current, certainly temporary, location. Actually, I skipped along and didn’t do this analysis of every stone, but only lots of them.

The sermon by our new UU reverend, Scott Rudolph, was wonderful and he spoke to a packed audience in our new building. My strange reminiscence was the realization that with such a young minister and such an old me I won’t get to hear him speak when he is my age. I wonder what that maturity will bring to such a thoughtful young man?

I got to the Central Oregon Atheists meeting for a discussion of the book End of Faith by Sam Harris, which was quite good too, but very different because it was simply a discussion rather than a sermon plus a lot of other stuff like singing and meditating.

Debbie and I had a fantastic lunch at the Drake restaurant in downtown Bend, and because the folks there really like us they came over and sat and chatted for a while. Actually, that kind of thing happens quite a lot. I like to think that it is because I am being successful at becoming a nicer person. I have tempered my sarcasm a little and people accept what I now say as humor.

We came home, Debbie read to me from The Rise and Fall of Adam and Eve by Stephen Greenblatt until I dozed off, and then woke me back up an hour later to go to the Spiritual Awareness Community meeting. It was another meeting that was distracted by our turmoil with the owner of the Old Stone Church. The situation is complicated by the fact that he wants to sell the property, and we have a lease in perpetuity that makes the sale more difficult. We have now resolved the problem peacefully, but now there are adjustments that we will have to make. We had preplanned a potluck dinner that was pleasant, but it complicated Debbie’s and my diet plans. Both of us are on the track of losing two pounds per month and we are both nearing our ideal BMI weights of 23.41.

Happy Birthday was sung to me, concluding with “And many more.”