What will we look like on the Tricentennial?

Mr. Gillette and I have made a solemn oath to live until our great nation's tricentennial in 2076. In that year, I will turn 100 and Mr. Gillette will turn 110—assuming we are able to elude history's greatest monster. Many reader(s)™ have, I assume, wondered how we will look when we are out celebrating 300 years of USA! USA! USA! Slate has a nice story with pictures of some current centenarians. I assume we will look a little better than these folks, thanks to technology, but I would settle for this:

Bart Torvik and Mr. Gillette in 2076

"I mind my own business and I don't eat junk food."

The quote in the title to the blog is probably the opposite of what I do.  Maybe the fact that this blog exists demonstrates that the first part of the quote does not apply to me.

R.I.P. Judge Wesley Brown

The Gillette-Torvik blog is saddened to learn of the death of Judge Wesley Brown. Judge Brown was a judge in the United States District Court in the District of Kansas and the oldest sitting judge in the country's history. He was 104 and still hearing matters in 2011. The Wichita Eagle has a nice summary of the judge's accomplishments here.

Incredibly, Judge Brown was not the longest tenured judge in our nation's history. That title belogns to Judge Joseph Woodrough. He was a district court judge in Nebraska and then a judge on the 8th Circuit, for a total of judge for 61 years. However, according to Wikipedia, Judge Woodrough did not perform any judicial duties the last 16 years of his life. So in terms of active service, Judge Brown has the record.

At 104, Judge Brown was not particularly close to hitting oldest person in the world status. One hopes this means that he was not targeted by the serial killer that we discussed here.

Another example of poor reporting from the lamestream media.

Slate. com has an article which asks the question, "why aren't the oldest living people getting any older?" The article claims that "In fact, eight of the last nine "world's oldest" titleholders were 114 when they achieved the distinction. Here's the morbid part: All but two were still 114 when they passed it on. Those two? They died at 115." The article goes on to posit that 114 (or so) is the age people can't live past; that the body simply isn't made to survive longer. Depressingly, the article suggests that predictions that people will one day live to be 150 are akin to predictions made in the 1950s that people in the twenty-first century would have flying cars.

As an initial matter, I am not ready to give up on flying cars. Also, my research indicates that the author is wrong about the last nine titleholders. Three off them, Edna Parker, Maria de Jesus dos Santos, and Gertrude Baines, were 115 when they died. Moreover, the author's use of the last 9 titleholders is an example of the tricks one can play with math depending on when one chooses to stop counting. If the author had counted the last 12 title holders (five of whom lived in the U.S.A.), the title holders would have had 6 people who lived to 114, four who lived to 115, and two who lived to 116. 114 doesn't seem so compelling if half the group lives past 114. I note that counting the last twelve only gets us back to August 2004. We are not talking about a very large sample.

In any event, the biggest problem with the article is that it fails to take into account the possibility that these deaths are all the work of a very clever serial killer. After all, each time a person assumes the title there is a lot of publicity for the person. Then, within a very short time, the person is dead. Are we to believe these deaths are age-based coincidences? According to the author, we are. However, if TV shows like "Lost," "Fringe," "The X Files," and the reportage of Nancy Grace have taught us anything, it is that the simplest explanation is often wrong. Until provided with definitive proof that these deaths are not the result of foul play, I remain unconvinced.