Not me. I’m 77 today, and studies of “hunter-gatherers” holds only terror for an old man. I’d hate to live even a hundred years ago. It is hard to conceive how hard it was to live back then, when one was long past the bloom of youth.
The young tend to be romantics. They plan on great deeds, wonderful accomplishments. They regret that they cannot be old time heroes, saints, generals, priestesses. Some of them try strange diets or rituals to be more like their ancestors who were supposedly more connected to the ways of the Sun, Moon, and Earth spirits.
Not me, not now. Not long ago half the “civilized” people would have been dead by 50, in terror at 60, definitely gone soon thereafter. Three score and ten was largely a pleasant fantasy, and even in that time frame no guarantees of being healthy nor active.
I’m not the new 30 or 40. But I’m quite good. And I never ate paleolithic, nor lasted long on most other dietary fads. In fact, I tended to avoid fads altogether and mostly trust my own body senses, and brain. Not perfect, I know, but here I am.
What most astonishes me these days is how little understanding the young have of how good they have it compared to how my parents and grandparents lived. Some of them secretly covet a desire to have everything go smash and return to the good old days, full of toothache and other horrors they never now endure.
Well at least I can be aware and grateful that the paleo era is long gone.
HuntingtonHarborThoughts 