THE SECRET TO HER LONGEVITY, IT SEEMS, IS MINESTRONE AND GOAT'S MILK
by Robert Crampton
The Times (London)
September 4, 2012 Tuesday
UK
I always thought that it was the Okinawans who lived longest,
thanks to all that Japanese self-discipline and lashings of oily
fish - some of which had been caught legally. Then I read of the
prevalence of centenarians in Armenia, where they like nothing better
than a massive booze-up, each carb-laden dish punctuated by a huge
unfiltered roll-up. Now it turns out that the real world leaders in
"Not Snuffing It When You're Supposed To" are the Sardinians.
Nine siblings, it is reported from the town of Perdasdefogu, share
a combined age of 818 and an average age of almost 91. The eldest,
Consolata Melis, 105, reckons that the family's durability is down
to minestrone soup and goat's milk. The formidable Signora Melis,
I have to say, understands the golden rule of these longevity stories
very well: some quirky, homespun, not-quite-the-received wisdom aspect
of diet or lifestyle must, repeat must, be responsible.
It could be minestrone soup and goat's milk; could be never touching
alcohol. It could be getting legless twice a week; could be lifelong
chastity; could be - between you and me - I've shagged the whole
village. It doesn't matter, just so long as the lengthy life being
celebrated cannot be ascribed to a combination of luck and genetics
and/or a birth certificate that has been lost in the mists of time.
Having been to Sardinia, I admit I was surprised that the locals hang
about for so long.
National dishes include roast piglet, pork stew, and pasta filled with
potatoes. On the coast, they were also keen on pizza and chips. The
villages in the mountains contained many aged people, true. And
absolutely no one else - anyone under about 80 having left. Or died.
When the entire population is old, the proportion of people who are
extremely old is likely to be unusually high.
I might add that these geriatric Sards, shuffling along their
wind-scoured, near-abandoned streets, far from revelling in their
supposed good fortune, looked pretty fed up.
A good deal of research has been done into extreme longevity.
Surprisingly little, however, is agreed regarding an explanation
for it. Laying off the fags helps. Eating your greens is advisable,
as is not stuffing yourself fit to burst. Going easy (but not too
easy; a little is better than none) on the booze seems handy. Taking
a stroll, preferably uphill, preferably several times each day,
promotes sustained good health.
Poverty, being badly educated, lacking access to decent medical
facilities - these are bad ideas. So (unless, presumably, you're
a deep-sea diver or bomb disposal expert, or the like) is total,
instant retirement. For a woman (but not Signora Melis, who has had
14) having children tends to shorten your lifespan.
After that, understanding seeps away. Maybe it's this enzyme, that
vitamin, this hormone influenced by that gene variation, too much or
too little. Cause or effect, we're not entirely sure, but further
study is required. And after that you're into circularity. If,
for whatever reason, person A is less likely to die than person B,
other things being equal, person A is more likely to still be above
ground this time next year.
There is one factor, however, that appears common to most of the
studies, and which ought to make us, in Britain, rather sad. Extremely
elderly people, particularly those who still enjoy good health,
tend to be well integrated into, and well respected and cared for by
their families, neighbours and communities. They have lots of social
contact. They are, in other words, looked after, not just physically,
but emotionally.
I suspect that the Okinawans, the Armenians and the Sardinians are
a lot better at doing that than we are.
by Robert Crampton
The Times (London)
September 4, 2012 Tuesday
UK
I always thought that it was the Okinawans who lived longest,
thanks to all that Japanese self-discipline and lashings of oily
fish - some of which had been caught legally. Then I read of the
prevalence of centenarians in Armenia, where they like nothing better
than a massive booze-up, each carb-laden dish punctuated by a huge
unfiltered roll-up. Now it turns out that the real world leaders in
"Not Snuffing It When You're Supposed To" are the Sardinians.
Nine siblings, it is reported from the town of Perdasdefogu, share
a combined age of 818 and an average age of almost 91. The eldest,
Consolata Melis, 105, reckons that the family's durability is down
to minestrone soup and goat's milk. The formidable Signora Melis,
I have to say, understands the golden rule of these longevity stories
very well: some quirky, homespun, not-quite-the-received wisdom aspect
of diet or lifestyle must, repeat must, be responsible.
It could be minestrone soup and goat's milk; could be never touching
alcohol. It could be getting legless twice a week; could be lifelong
chastity; could be - between you and me - I've shagged the whole
village. It doesn't matter, just so long as the lengthy life being
celebrated cannot be ascribed to a combination of luck and genetics
and/or a birth certificate that has been lost in the mists of time.
Having been to Sardinia, I admit I was surprised that the locals hang
about for so long.
National dishes include roast piglet, pork stew, and pasta filled with
potatoes. On the coast, they were also keen on pizza and chips. The
villages in the mountains contained many aged people, true. And
absolutely no one else - anyone under about 80 having left. Or died.
When the entire population is old, the proportion of people who are
extremely old is likely to be unusually high.
I might add that these geriatric Sards, shuffling along their
wind-scoured, near-abandoned streets, far from revelling in their
supposed good fortune, looked pretty fed up.
A good deal of research has been done into extreme longevity.
Surprisingly little, however, is agreed regarding an explanation
for it. Laying off the fags helps. Eating your greens is advisable,
as is not stuffing yourself fit to burst. Going easy (but not too
easy; a little is better than none) on the booze seems handy. Taking
a stroll, preferably uphill, preferably several times each day,
promotes sustained good health.
Poverty, being badly educated, lacking access to decent medical
facilities - these are bad ideas. So (unless, presumably, you're
a deep-sea diver or bomb disposal expert, or the like) is total,
instant retirement. For a woman (but not Signora Melis, who has had
14) having children tends to shorten your lifespan.
After that, understanding seeps away. Maybe it's this enzyme, that
vitamin, this hormone influenced by that gene variation, too much or
too little. Cause or effect, we're not entirely sure, but further
study is required. And after that you're into circularity. If,
for whatever reason, person A is less likely to die than person B,
other things being equal, person A is more likely to still be above
ground this time next year.
There is one factor, however, that appears common to most of the
studies, and which ought to make us, in Britain, rather sad. Extremely
elderly people, particularly those who still enjoy good health,
tend to be well integrated into, and well respected and cared for by
their families, neighbours and communities. They have lots of social
contact. They are, in other words, looked after, not just physically,
but emotionally.
I suspect that the Okinawans, the Armenians and the Sardinians are
a lot better at doing that than we are.