Tempus Fugit

− Hi. Can I ask you something?
− I don’t see why not.
− How long do I have?
− You want an accurate answer or will I make it up to make you feel immortal?
− No, the truth of course.
− OK, 24 years, 123 days, 4 hours and 16 minutes. 8889 days or 213,000 hours, 12.8 million minutes. Accurate enough?
− Yes, thanks. 8889 days doesn’t sound that much. 24 years ago I was already 35, and it doesn’t seem that long ago.
− True, and don’t forget how time seems to gather pace as you age.
− Thanks a bunch! So that’ll make me just under 84 when I shuttle off, which bears out the theory about knowing when you will die.
− What’s that? Not that God-awful idea in Tuesdays with Morrie? The one where you note the first day you spent more time looking back than looking forward and double it? Pile of crap, you know. Do you want to know how it ends?
− No, I don’t think so, thanks.
− So, why did you ask how long?
− I was reading about climate change and the prediction that Ireland will be overwhelmed with floods and storms and baking hot summers within the next few years and I was wondering whether it would be in my lifetime.
− It will.
− OK, so what am I going to do with the 24 years and some? I’ve been wondering if it’s all downhill from now.
− Well, let’s see. You currently spend 16.7% of your time watching television. And that’s actually 24.6% of your waking time. Can you go downhill from that?
− Sure. Not all of that is a waste – though nearly all. I’m assuming there will still be TV in 24 years, and that it will still be full of reality shows and soaps and movie re-runs?
− Yes, and news will be available on premium-rate channels which you’ll be vetted for before you can subscribe. Except during elections, when it will predominate on the soaps channels. There’ll be the ‘live war’ channel, and a whole raft of live disasters channels, mostly featuring storms, hurricanes, floods and suchlike
− And will I spend 16.7% of my time watching TV in 20 years time?
− No, 25%, which will amount to one third of your waking life. You’ll actually be sat in front of the holographic 3D light box on your coffee table, as it will be then, for one in every three minutes of your conscious existence. The quality of the input will have gone down, and your lack of processing will have gone up, so you’ll effectively be vegetating.
− What else will I be doing that I don’t do now?
− Well, you currently sleep 31% of your time, and that’ll drop to 25%, as you’ll need less. Not to mention the time you currently spend on the toilet, 1.7% of your waking time, will treble. You currently read 4.2% of your time, and I’d be lying if I said you’ll become a literary leviathan by then. You’ll try to read for half the amount of time you do now – you just won’t have the attention span. You currently spend 6.3% of your time eating, which is taken up with one hot meal and two snacks a day, with conversation and pace to them. This will remain the same, though you will eat less and more slowly, and the conversation will be desultory, or non-existent, depending on whether you outlive your wife.
− I hadn’t thought of being alone. Will I be? Alone? Wouldn’t that have a big impact on my use of time?
− Yes, but you don’t get to know about anyone else, so let’s make the assumption you go before she does.
− OK, let’s. What about exercise? I must spend an average of an hour a day in the gym or walking the dog?
− You currently spend 4.2% of your time on that, and it will halve, as you become less able to walk, though you’ll still try, but it will take you ages to get anywhere, so it will take 2% of your time. The gym membership will lapse pretty soon.
− So I make pots – I spend 4.2% of my time in the pottery – not a lot, I know, but I guess that falls away.
− Yes, and the 8% you spend earning your living on the computer. That goes pretty soon too, though you’d have it continue, you pass your sell-by date. Pretty ignominious really, but let’s not dwell on how everything falls away. You’re depressed enough already.
− What else?
− You spend time maintaining your home, cleaning (though that hardly counts), washing, doing paperwork and emailing, shopping, driving and lots of little things. Sex takes 0.3% of your time now, and you can guess how much that’ll be in 20 year’ time.
− Thanks. Let’s not dwell on that slippery slope.
− You currently spend 4% of your time doing nothing. On a good day. In 20 years’ time that’s trebled, and while your down-time now is infused with thoughts and ideas, creative nuggets, angst and schemes, it will be infused with confusion and numbness, blank spots and desperate attempts to recall names.
− Fuck. So it is all down-hill from here on in? Does it have to be? Shouldn’t I have one last fling? Another joust at the windmills of life? Take on a big challenge? Bite off more than I can chew?
− You really do fancy yourself as Don Quixote, don’t you. I was thinking more of Sancho Panza…
− Or maybe Brando in On the Waterfront: “I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am, let’s face it.”
− What I’ve told you is what will happen if nothing else changes. How it might be if the context stays the same and you don’t make anything happen. There are two options. Either you try and make changes, rather than strutting and fretting your last 213,000 hours upon the stage, or the world will change so fundamentally that whatever you think you’re going to do will be changed for you.
− And?
− And I’m not going to tell you how the world will change that will affect your life, but rest assured it will. I’m going to say that regardless of how the world is going to change – the climate, the migration of your species, the religious violence, the political violence, the economic injustice blaadie blaadie blaa – you’re going to have to make your own changes. Start with the hours in the day. Start with the minutes if you prefer, but make some changes, because the life force will not always be so strong. The opportunities for change will not be so great.
− OK, so. Any suggestions?
− That’s for another day, if you can spare some of that wasted time to think about it.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s