Whistle While You Work —DeWese

MY LAME anxiety about the time remaining on my 65-year-old actuarial table got some welcome news this week. I had checked the U.S. government mortality tables for males age 65 and learned that I’ve got another 16.3 years. I’m gonna raise some kind of hell during that .3.

Then I had a big longevity breakthrough! First, researchers announced that people who laugh frequently live seven years more than folks who rarely manage a smile.

Whew!

Good news for me! I’m a laughing fool. Constantly. In the car. In the tub. In the shower.

Mine is a rumbling, belly-shaking laugh that begins deep somewhere down around my pancreas and comes roaring up my spine in a series of convulsing bellyquakes.

I’ve got so much to laugh at—beginning with myself. My stupid behavior alone is enough to extend my life. I’ve never been one to take myself seriously.

Laughter has added seven years to my life, so I’m now lookin’ at living 88.3 years.

Next, the same researchers announced that singing adds 15 years to your life. I am a life-long singer. Basso-Baritone. Sort of a cross between Frank Sinatra and Tennessee Ernie Ford. Don’t remember Tennessee Ernie? Well how about, “You load 16 tons of No. 9 coal and what do you get? Another day older and deeper in debt.” That should refresh your memory.

My repertoire ranges from Gospel, to Country and Western, to ’50s and ’60s rock ’n roll, to Cole Porter, to Gershwin to opera. Sing, sing, sing, I’m a singing fool, and I’ve added another 15 years to my life taking me to a ripe old age of 103.3. This means you readers will get another 1,100-plus columns.

The next piece of research has proven that if you sell printing, and if you try hard and follow all the rules, you will add another 20 years to your life. So, in the interest of your longevity, I’ll review the print sales longevity guidelines. You can’t get this stuff anywhere else folks. This is PRINTING IMPRESSIONS, and we’ve got your back. We care about your health.