HomeWhen Phyllis Murphy’s mother was pregnant, back in the 1950s, her doctor advised her to take up smoking for relaxation. A few years later, that same mom smeared her toddler’s skin with a concoction of baby oil and iodine for a deep, rich tan. Now, safely in adulthood in Vancouver, B.C., Murphy fondly recalls childhood as a time of leaping from rooftops and accumulating “more scars than Joan Rivers.”
And Tim Palla, a 46-year-old pastor, spent his childhood just north of Pittsburgh where he got just one vaccination, gobbled wild berries and mushrooms, drank from the ditch, and chewed road tar like gum.
Like Palla and Murphy, many of us who were raised in the 1950s, ’60s and ’70s are survivors. We were tiny daredevils: sun-blasted, pocket-knife-carrying, bottom-spanked, cow eaters. We ran the streets armed with BB guns, boxing gloves and bottle rockets, wholly unprotected by bike helmets, sunscreen or Amber Alerts. Our houses were filled with the blue cigarette smoke of our cocktail-drinking parents and we believed it wasn’t supper without a mountain of red meat.
We just didn’t know then how brave we were. And, surely, future generations will marvel at our physical moxie. Because, truth be told, it was not easy to get here.
Whether you were raised on heaping bowls of Boo Berry (1970s), Quisp (‘60s) or Sugar Jets (‘50s), you probably, unknowingly, violated every nutrition and safety maxim of modern day childrearing.
And yet, somehow, despite all that, most of us made it out of our childhoods just fine. So what gives? Is there really any point to denying ourselves delicious, sugary, buttery food, stamping out our cigarettes and straining our muscles at the gym?
Despite years of confusing, mixed messages about whether red wine, chocolate, fish, coffee or eggs are a tonic or maybe somehow toxic, there have been enough randomized clinical trials to offer some undeniable truths: high cholesterol, low exercise, excessive sun, inhaling cigarette smoke, failing to wear a seatbelt, and excessive drinking while pregnant can hurt you (or your baby). They may not, but they can, or quite likely will, depending on the behavior. U.S. death rates from heart disease have dropped by 50 percent in the last 20 years — about half the decline is thought to be due to prevention. Today’s parenting styles are guided by that knowledge.
“It would be a disservice to say that (modern, healthier habits) don’t make any difference,” said Dr. Daniel Berman, chief of cardiac imaging at Cedars-Sinai Heart Institute in Los Angeles, himself a vegetarian. More people soon will be pushing age 100 and feeling good, he projects. “I’m 100 percent convinced that the things we’re doing are extending our younger years.
“The bottom line is that things like bike accidents where a kid died because they didn’t wear a helmet, those rarely occurred. But if your kid happened to fall and was one out of 10,000 who died, you must live with knowing it was preventable,” Berman said.
Ann Middleman recalls a friend’s 18-year-old daughter died in the ‘60s while sledding in New York without a helmet.
“I think of all the people who didn’t survive,” said Middleman, 47, whose father, a lifetime smoker, died of cancer at age 52. “I’m glad I live now, have access to good medical care — as well as the information to make informed choices — and safer products. Seat belts and air bags alone save numerous lives every year. Before we had them, people did die. Needlessly. We may not have known about them, but for their families, the losses were, indeed, tragic.”
Genetic destiny?
Many of us weathered our childhood deeds and diets because we heard about the health studies, or the tragic accidents, and changed our ways as adults. But another big factor in our longevity is rooted in our DNA — 50 percent of our health outcome, Berman estimates, is determined by our chromosomes. Which explains how cigar-sucking, overweight Winston Churchill lived to be 90, while running guru Jim Fixx died of a heart attack at 52.
But some unknown quantity, some slice of the equation, is not due our genetics or our subscription to Cooking Light magazine. Some of this, say many folks 40 and up, is a matter of attitude, an edge we still carry from our younger days.