Keeping old bones well oiled
If scientists have their way, we’ll be spawning a generation of bouncy and spunky octogenarians rocking to the music of Bill Haley and the Comets to show up the present bunch of spoilt brats, who reckon the world owes them.
Cliff Buchler.
Let’s face it, once a body reaches pensionable age, it carries the stigma of being the beginning of the end. Too old to hold down a job. Over the wall.
Time to consider old-age homes. Time to buy a rocking chair. And the loathsome labels: old fart, golden years, waiting in the departure lounge, senior moment. But there’s light at the end of this dismal tunnel created by an unsympathetic society. A 50-year-old professor has established what he calls his Age-lab, and is part of the Institute of Technology in the US.
He has embarked on amazing research in finding ways of preventing and aiding normal physical deterioration of a body that’s been through the mill. He reckons it’s not enough to keep the old ticker going with magic pills and potions. And replacing parts is complex, pricey and traumatic (ask me).
Why not spot the symptoms early on and deal with them? The prof has created a suit of clothes including overalls, foam and knee elbow restraints and elastic straps and wires, making it difficult to stretch or bend. A hat like the one worn on building sites has straps attached, dragging the head down and lending a distinctly elderly arch to the back.
The shoes are softened with spongy soles that make stepping down stairs almost impossible. A young journalist donned the unique paraphernalia, and said: “I began to walk carefully, fearing a fall. Basic tasks became difficult. Reaching high objects was a struggle, as was a simple chore, like sweeping the floor.”
The suit’s goggles turned his vision yellow, while the double-layered plastic gloves meant the touch screen on his phone no longer worked. The suit simulates very real experiences and is helping manufacturers come up with products for senior consumers.
Imagine retirement villages transformed into luxury spas with couples being given a new lease in life and able to rock around the clock. With us old codgers barking at the hennaed girls with: “I’m nothing but a hound dog.” That’s if the skeleton holds together.
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