As you may or may not remember (depending on the severity of your last concussion) earlier this week, my brain, Peanuts, wrote a well thought out and balanced essay weighing in on the pros and cons of death.  If you missed it,  Peanuts is happy to summarize it for you as follows:

The pros and cons of death are that death sucks and there aren’t any pros. 

So today, in keeping with our “death theme”, my brain, Peanuts would like to take a few minutes of your time (or a few hours depending on how fast you read since the concussion) to discuss how growing older changes the actual “sediment” in your aging body.

 Time out for Science

But first, let’s step back a little and explain what my brain, Peanuts, means by a “sediment” in scientific terms.  Wait a minute . . . what’s that Peanuts?  Oh, sorry, Dear Reader, Peanuts doesn’t want to do that.  Ok, fine.

The Unscientific Explanation of Sediment

When you are born, your body is like a pristine glass of water with nothing in it but a teeny-weeny bit of cute, adorable sediment.

Another name for sediment is star stuff  which is what we are all actually made of (as the Science Channel just loves to tell us).  And since the universe has to store all this star stuff somewhere, it stores it in our bodies as sediment.

So because we are made of star stuff, naturally our newborn vessels are going to have a little bit of sediment in them.  But just a scosche . . . I’m holding up my index finger and thumb right now for emphasis — and if you could just see how close together they were, you’d say “oh Pshaw! Who cares?”

Now Let’s Fast Forward to Age 60.

OK, by now the average body has collected so much sediment, that if you were to look closely at your eyes, you’d be able to detect a very faint line about half way up your eyeball that is your Sediment Indicator Light.

At 60, your  Sediment Indicator will read “full”.  This means you are now completely full of it, when it comes to sediment and/or star stuff.

 Which means that even if you were to miraculously get down to what you weighed in high school, none of your jeans would fit like they used to– which means you wouldn’t look your hip in those new jeans, you would simply look like a scrawny 60-year-old lady or man who robbed some jeans from their granddaughter’s or grandson’s closet.  And there is absolutely nothing either you or the Science Channel can do about it.

And that, Dear Reader, is the bitter pill that needs to be swallowed on a regular basis from here on out!
Until next time  . . . .I love you anyway