I’ve finally been diagnosed for the nasty little condition I recently contracted while celebrating yet another birthday. It’s called “boomeritis,” and it’s a real stinker.
They say boomers, those born between 1946 and 1964, are falling apart from years of vegging out in front of the TV or computer.
One healthcare official went so far as to claim “vegging” for the boomer generation may be more harmful than smoking cigarettes, drinking moonshine, and driving blind folded.
A new study finds that every hour we spend being sedentary each day is associated with an increased risk of dying from cardiovascular disease. I’m guessing it doesn’t help to eat Reese’s Cups while lolling about.
The study found that each hour spent in front of the television was associated with an 11% increased risk of death from all causes, a 9% increased risk of death from cancer and an 18% increased risk of death from cardiovascular disease. That made me check my pulse because, apparently, I’m already dead.
“Dancing with the Stars” and “American Idol” should carry this disclaimer: “The following program may be hazardous to your health.”
How do you know if you have boomeritis? There are several telltale clues: Are you tired from sleeping? Do you know the telephone number of an orthopedist by heart? (That’s a dead give-away.) Do you stumble about while walking on a flat surface and haven’t been to a cocktail party since New Year’s Eve? Are your favorite skirts or dress pants mysteriously two inches longer than when you bought them? Yes, the boomeritis parasite has invaded your body and is stealing your height. Does something pop when you try to twist, and do certain parts refuse to work after you ride in a car from more than 30 minutes? And, girls, if you haven’t worn your cutest stilettos in over a year, you have finally graduated from the vanity of your youth that drove you to place appearance above comfort.
Chances are, if you grew up when television went off the air after the 10 p.m. news, or you drank water from a garden hose instead of a bottle, you are at risk. Or, if your parents never drove you to soccer practice because you had never heard of soccer, you are a prime candidate for this condition.
My friend Brenda and I have come up with a three-point plan to combat this dreaded disease. Maybe I’ll tell you about it next week, if I can remember what it was.
Emily Jones is a retired journalist who edits a website for bouncing baby boomers facing retirement. She welcomes comments at www.deludeddiva.com.