Octogenarian Finds It’s Time to Look to the Future

If you’ve ever dreamed of living to a really ripe old age--say 100 or 115 or longer--your chances of making it improve every day.

For my part, it was only after turning 80 last year and starting to ponder about my future that I became aware how the outlook on aging has changed, how numerous experts in the field of aging no longer consider 80 the mark of old age it once was thought to be. Rather, they now see the normal life span for Americans extending beyond 100 years.

Though I never counted on it, the notion started to blossom in my mind that being present to greet the 21st Century--a mere 12 years away--could be an enchanting idea, particularly since at 80 I could feel no appreciable difference in my state of well being from the way it was at 79--or 70. Or back to my 60s for that matter.

Somehow in my advancing years I rarely gave the subject of growing old the attention it may have deserved. Nor did I retire from my active working career in public relations until three months after reaching that landmark 80.

Whether or not it was a benign lesson absorbed many years ago about the mystique of aging that shielded me from concern about advancing years, I always remembered it. And it no doubt left its mark.

In the later ‘30s and early ‘40s, during the decade that my wife and I lived in New York City, I came to realize that climbing subway steps to street level often left me panting. Failing heart? Lung problems? I hastened to our family doctor to check it out.

In the course of his examination, he said: “You’re past 30 aren’t you?”

“Yes, 33.”

“Well,” he continued, “the human body starts deteriorating at 30. You’re in great health. Get going!”

After retiring. I made what I considered a practical decision.

While feeling perfectly comfortable at 80, I determined that if I were going to think about the uncertain/uncertainties of aging or to talk about them, I could do no better than consult with experts in the field. Indeed, it occurred to me that I might turn up information worth passing along to others in the ranks of aging--or those in any forward-looking age group.

Which led me to the Ethel Percy Andrus Gerontology Center at USC and to its associate dean, David A. Peterson Ph.D., a career gerontologist.

Established in 1965, the USC center is recognized as the largest among about 200 U.S. research-teaching centers offering degrees in gerontology and enjoys a reputation in keeping with its standing.

Peterson, 50, joined the center 10 years ago, coming from the University of Nebraska where he was director of the gerontology department.

“There is no reason,” Peterson said, “why human life expectancy in the United States should not extend to 100 or 115 years in the foreseeable future . . . barring such mishaps as getting hit by a truck or falling off a bridge.”

That prospect, he noted, is in keeping with changing life expectancies in the United States that keep extending as advances in medicine, medical care and public health proliferate.

Some social scientists would raise the ante over Peterson’s projected 100-to-115 life expectancy. Sociologist Arthur B. Shostak Ph.D. of Drexel Institute of Technology in Philadelphia cites a forecast by fellow scientists that by 2030, the average human being will live to 120 or more.

“Most of us have an internal stereotype about aging,” Peterson said. “It used to be that 65 was considered old age. Now it is more like 75 or 80--or even 90.

“All of us are equipped with a biological clock that will begin to run down around ages 110 and 115.”

In 1900, less than than 1% of the nation’s population was 85 and older. The U.S. Bureau of Census now projects that by 2050, 20 million Americans will be in that age group.

With the promise of life extended far beyond the years of our ancestors, how will the “new elderly” cope with considerably longer life, recognizing that relatively few--myself included--likely ever thought of it, let alone planned for it?

“Much of the physical and attitudinal well-being of the new elderly will depend on their own behavior patterns,” Peterson advises, “and this cannot be overly emphasized.”

To those of advanced age who have lived frantic lives, are inveterate smokers, heavy drinkers, excessive eaters, it may be a little late to change.

But it is rarely too late.

Says Peterson: “The human body is highly regenerative. It is rarely too late to give up excesses.”

And a final word from him: “It does not take a crusader to encourage moderation in personal behavior--no matter what your age may now be.”

Well armed with insights into life after 80, what remained for me was to learn what experts have to say about living in comfort on the way to 100 or 115.

My next visit was with the Andrus Center’s resident expert on the subject: Victor Regnier, AIA, who proved as communicative as were others in the center.

Regnier, 40, is a 1973 graduate of the USC School of Architecture who went on to a faculty post in the University of Illinois architectural school before being invited back to the USC campus in 1983 to fill a newly established post in the Gerontology Center.

Regnier foresees a surge in housing construction emphasizing special requirements for the elderly, with recognition that a great number will prefer apartment or condominium living to private residences.

He anticipates the coming of what he calls housing with services--for example, complete living units for individuals and couples that incorporate new technology for better living: apartments of moderate but comfortable size with built-in facilities for easy reaching, storage, food preparation; the residential structure linked to a common building containing dining facilities for those who choose them, recreational and reading rooms.

He sees well-equipped exercise rooms and swimming pools having their place in the new complexes. And in more rural settings, walking and horseback riding trails.

Ultimately, Regnier trusts, government may see the way to subsidize projects of the sort as certain European nations are doing, notably Britain, Denmark and Sweden.

Settling into the reality of life as an octogenarian, it has occurred to me almost casually to reflect on changes in life style that began to occur with my retirement for my wife--who is still a distance from 80--and myself.

One hint of meaningful change is a new, calmer response on my part to what in earlier days were manifest freeway driving irritations. I used to find it impossible to refrain from a verbal blast (which my wife assured me and I well knew could never be heard by the offender). Whether it is the easing of time pressures that came with retirement or sensible reaction to the outcropping of freeway violence, or both, I now am conditioned to take such experiences in stride.

On a more uplifting level, my wife and I continue reacting much as in past years. We retain the same interests and activities, though perhaps applying a softer pedal.

We have always loved the theater, music and museums, for instance, and our interest in them continues as ever. We have not considered yielding our years-long subscriptions to the Los Angeles Philharmonic and Pasadena Symphony, or to a minimum of two theater series, all intermingled with plays, ballet performances, concerts, art galleries. . . .

For many years, the two of us have traveled overseas, exploring and savoring many lands. We have crisscrossed the United States numerous times by car and plane. Now, however, an inkling of change seems to be emerging; we are leaning more toward the advantages that advancing age makes possible: Elderhostel group travel and educational adventures that came on the scene in the mid-’70s, adapted from the successful youth hostel and youth travel programs.

A few years ago, my wife and I received a Christmas card from longtime friends, a creative couple with a broad range of interests in the arts, blended pleasantly with a sprinkle of folksy humor.

On a corner of the card was a handwritten note obviously directed to my wife. “Don’t let Hal retire,” it said, “unless he can present a notarized certification that he has a serious hobby lined up.”

It was long before I had given even random thought to retiring, but considerably after our friends’ retirement, which we considered to be an ongoing happy time devoted, among other matters, to painting, imaginative gardening, music, reading and keeping up with their highly attractive home.

Whatever inspired the message, we never asked. But I preserved the card and its thoughtful advice--advice that is echoed one way or another by a great many who are both retired and aging: Keep active.

Who hasn’t heard of retired husbands moseying around home offering advice on housekeeping to despairing spouses? Or otherwise aimlessly frittering time away?

A friend who retired in the early 1980s from an active career as a top executive in industry (and who made a splendid recovery a few years earlier following triple-bypass heart surgery) is so heavily involved in worthy causes that his wife concedes she sees less of him now than in his business days.

On retirement, he offered his time and talents to community causes that welcomed him cheerfully, one or two of them soon electing him president. He serves on the board of directors of a symphony orchestra association. He joined a support group for a major West Coast university and shortly rose to president. He loves it all. And so do the recipients of his volunteer services.

Another who became a widower several years after his retirement as a department store executive found that he had time on his hands and visited a neighborhood grade school to offer his services at whatever level was available.

His volunteer offer was accepted on the spot and his first assignment was to tutor children newly arrived in this country.

He has since happily accepted assignments of greater and lesser status, including reorganizing long-neglected school storage rooms. He is loved by the teaching staff.

Now past 85, he has added a new “career” interest to his active life: competitive distance running--both to benefit his exemplary health and to pursue new-found love of the sport. He enters 5- and 8-K runs.

No matter how long it takes him to complete the distance, he almost unfailingly wins a trophy as the lone competitor in his age group. And to aficionados of the sport waiting at the goal line to greet him with applause, he has become something of a hero.

Our friends who sent the Christmas card offering advice on retirement may be pleased to know that their advice was not only welcomed but pursued.

On retirement, I made it known that I was prepared to volunteer my services as a public relations consultant--my longtime professional field--to worthy organizations unable to pay. Offers were quick to arrive.

I’ve joined several organizations I had not had time for and presently am providing public relations service to two of them, with a third waiting in the wings.

It is fulfilling to be involved in the field I have known for so long--and to be paid off in warm appreciation rather than fees.

And working in my office at home, I can say that I am perceptive enough never to interfere with my wife’s activities. Nor does she interfere in mine.

A happy experience. An uncommonly happy relationship.

Levy lives in Glendale.