THE SECRET TO ETERNAL YOUTH

Philosophy is a wonderful thing. My simple edition of Webster’s Dictionary defines it as; pursuit of wisdom; study of realities and general principles; system of theories on the nature of things. I look at it as a way of thinking and concluding reasonable answers to problems and ideas. The key word is thinking.

In my travels throughout our country I’ve done quite a bit of philosophizing while driving along the highways and byways. My mind will occasionally drift into a philosophical state and things start popping into it. I don’t consider this a particularly good thing to do, as I’ve often wound up in strange places, however it is not voluntary. I suppose the boredom of the road has something to do with it.

Quite often it proves beneficial as I come up with extraordinary ideas. My wife bought me a small recorder so I can save these for later use. Previously I had to pull off the road to jot them down. On one occasion I made a remarkable discovery.

Answers to age-old questions can be satisfied with reasonable logic. For example, the quest for eternal youth, made famous by such people as Ponce de Leon, and Peter Pan. Nearly all intelligent minds consider it a myth, but what if it does exist?

I met a man once who flatly stated he had seen the Fountain of Youth. I immediately recognized the delightful elderly gentleman as a student of previous distinction and listened eagerly, as anyone would, to his words about the youthful spring. He informed me he had actually been there. Unfortunately, he was too old to get in. He offered me a drink from his bag then rambled on about being a sovereign of some sort, which I found intriguing yet unrelated to nonfiction. I left him strung out and pleading for a war hero donation. I thought that was the end of it, however the aspect of eternal youth apparently lodged itself into my subconscious mind for I soon found myself searching for answers to the point of obsession.

I’ve seen people who seem to never age. When asked how they accomplish such a defying feat they unanimously pretend to know nothing about it. Medical research continues to find no answers to the subject matter. Libraries, archives, chronicles, even age-old scriptures reveal an absence of knowledge in regards to youth everlasting. I resolved myself to the realization that I would have to find the answer myself.

With complete devotion I searched for many years throughout the country as well as abroad. I sailed the seven seas and scoured the realm on a search that virtually took me to the Four Corners of the Earth, which I found disturbing as I’d always been taught the Earth was round. The answer seemed to allude me…so I forgot about it.

That is, I thought I forgot. But apparently I forgot to remember...my subconscious. Suddenly on the day previously mentioned the answer popped into my head. From out of nowhere it just emanated from my medulla oblongata.

The secret to eternal youth can be reached through philosophy. Here it is in a nutshell. In order to retain our youth we must slow down the aging process, which is in direct proportion to the progression of time. If we are able to hold back time we can slow the process. Therefore we must answer the question, “What does time wait for?”

A show of hands reveals many philosophical want-to-bes eager to divulge their cultivated answers, but I will go with the nerdly fellow in the heavy sweater, with the “coke bottle” glasses, and the penchant for picking his nose. The “boogieman” correctly informs us that, “Time waits for NO MAN!”

“Outstanding!” I reply without hesitation. The men are taken aback, shocked at the alarming news, as all the women slyly smile. I quickly point out, in that instance, “no man” is a representation of mankind in general regardless of gender, and not just about men. The women’s smiles turn upside down as they join the men in a pitiful rendition of “Why ME?” The pessimists squint into mirrors and see their skins wrinkling before their eyes, and the optimists suggest, “There is always hope!” I, being neither, view the scene with pretentious indifference and calmly wait for a lull in the activities.

I think of “the glass”…is it half-full or half-empty? A monumental standoff for those who dabble in beliefs of this sort. If one is to appraise their devotion from such an example, they must also consider other aspects. To the optimist who sees the glass as half-full…does he become a pessimist when the glass fills to the brim and has no other way to go but down?

The wailing continues and the thought occurs for me to leave. After all, this is not a classroom. I’m in a bar for Pete’s sake! The first roadside tavern I came upon after my theory revealed itself. I stopped for a beer. The crowd seemed enthusiastic so I thought I might try my idea on them and see how it would be excepted. When I announced I had the answer to eternal life they flocked to me like pigeons in a park to an old lady with loves of bread. Now they cried as though their very lives were over. Fortunately for them, I knew better. I thought again about the controversial glass. I looked at my glass…it was empty. In the style of a true optimist, I bought another round of Old Trevanions and regained control of the flock.

I admitted I was surprised that the answer to my first question had come so readily. I expected to have a lot of explaining to do. I suggested the fellow must be highly educated and not part of the norm for such an establishment. They ventured it was a lucky guess and acknowledged him as the village idiot. I obviously looked confused…they had some explaining to do. They stated theirs was a small town and being the village idiot did not necessarily require someone “really dumb”. I shook my head pretending to understand as I thought to myself how glad I was I didn’t live there.

They remarked that I seemed to be daydreaming. Several implied I drifted between past and present tense. I told them it was not surprising because of the nature of the two. In literature present tense can be as long as the writer wishes. It can drag out and cover long spans of time. Once the words are read they become part of the past, but they can be read again, and again, and again. In reality present tense is but a fraction of a second. It is what is happening now, at this moment. As soon as the moment is over, it becomes history. I deal only in reality, therefore I can never speak, nor write, in present tense because it is over.

I told them that on the surface it looks as though we are all doomed, as the answer to my question suggests. Why then would I have asked it? Obviously I have more to offer. Philosophy can go in many directions. The wise man chooses the path that suits him best. They had answered the first question. There remained another.

We now know Time Waits for No Man. That is a philosophical certainty. Therefore we must ask…What is No Man? The crowd stares into their beers and curls their eyebrows in a unified search, for an individual answer. I can see none of these to be a disciple of poetry or prose. Even the village idiot is without a guess. They plead for me to give them a hint. One shouts, “Ah, come on…just tell us what it is!” I refuse…they offer me a beer. I find myself captivated by their “way with words”. I agree to their terms. They listen intently as I give them, and you, the answer.

Time waits for no man…what is no man? No man is an island. Therefore, if you want to stay young, go live on an island.

ALOHA!…By George