Warning labels are a matter of life and death – and choice
In the space of five minutes in front of the computer this week,
I read three very different stories about life.
The first was a reminder about ways to prolong it through
avoidance; the second was about a way to enjoy it but probably
shorten it; and the third was about how one woman defied the odds
to outlast its inevitable ending for a really long time.
Warning labels are a matter of life and death – and choice
In the space of five minutes in front of the computer this week, I read three very different stories about life.
The first was a reminder about ways to prolong it through avoidance; the second was about a way to enjoy it but probably shorten it; and the third was about how one woman defied the odds to outlast its inevitable ending for a really long time.
Having passed the 40-year threshold a couple years back, I still feel relatively young and healthy, despite a bum knee and a few gray hairs sneaking onto my temples and chin. I figure that based on statistics for men born in the late 1960s, I’m about halfway home. Guys my age tend to focus on what was by trying to recapture their youth through mid-life crisis cars and Just For Men facial hair coloring, but I choose to look ahead to what might be. It’s not that half my life is gone; I still have half my life to live.
Stories that talk about death catch my eye because the older I get, the more mortal I realize I am. Gone are the fearless days of youth, when I thought I’d live forever. Now, I am realistic, though still optimistic, in an effort to avoid being fatalistic.
The first story that got me thinking about life was the one about cigarette labels soon starting to show graphic images designed to discourage smokers from lighting up. The Food and Drug Administration is hoping that an image of a diseased lung or a cancerous lip will make a smoker think twice before lighting up.
I understand the idea behind the campaign, since the surgeon’s general written warning on a pack is easy to avoid and a gross image can have immediate impact. As a non-smoker, I’m all for encouraging people to quit the habit. But where do we stop?
A picture of a heart attack victim on a Big Mac wrapper? A bloated liver on a bottle of beer? A cavity-riddled mouth on a Snickers bar? An apricot with a picture of a person choking on its pit? At some point, we have to either make something illegal or let the people who choose to ingest it live with the consequences.
For me, the horrible smell, vexing cough and certain early death are enough to keep me off of cigarettes. No warning label needed.
That led me to the next story: the one about people lining up at the San Diego County Fair to eat fried Kool-Aid. Finally! Someone has figured out how to use the sugary mix for something other than a lip-staining drink.
Now, that mix can be dropped in a vat of fat and enjoyed with a crunch. If anything called for a warning label, this would be it. But again, it’s about choice.
After settling my stomach from thoughts of a slow, painful death from cigarettes and a quick stomach ache from fried Kool-Aid, I clicked on a story about the world’s oldest person, who died this week at the age of 114. That made me feel better.
I’m sorry that she passed away, but I’m grateful that I read the story, because it gives me hope that I’ve got another 72 years ahead of me if I play my cards right. My guess is that this woman didn’t smoke or eat fried Kool-Aid, though she did admit to enjoying coffee and an occasional glass of wine, both of which surely can have deleterious health effects if not consumed in moderation.
So live life to the fullest, pay attention to warning labels and limit your intake of fried Kool-Aid. You’ve been warned.
Adam Breen teaches newspaper and yearbook classes at San Benito High School and is a reporter for the Pinnacle. He is former editor of the Free Lance. He can be reached by e-mail at
ab****@pi**********.com
.
