One Polymeal To Go, Please

So this morning I was reading about what scientists have dubbed "the perfect meal"--the "polymeal." Apparently, if you imbibe most of the components of the polymeal every day, it will decrease your risk of heart disease by a whopping 76%. And this, my friends, is nothing to sneeze at.

The good news is that the polymeal comprises all the things I like: fish, dark chocolate, fruit, vegetables, almonds, garlic, and red wine (well, okay I don't like red wine, but I like everything else). It seems that the meal is based on a Mediterranean diet, and since I have always wished that I was Mediterranean or at least from England, it makes sense that I would like all these things. Which I am enthused about.

What I am NOT enthused about is living until I am 150 years old. All the women in my family live alone because their husbands die off really early, and then they wind up getting really old. I'm not kidding. My great-grandmother (who rode around in covered wagons when she was a kid, I'm not even joking) lived to be 103. She never drank or smoke in her life. And I don't smoke and I rarely drink. Parallelism? I think so.

Essentially, I am horrified that everybody I know will die off and leave me living into my 130s all by myself because I, like a sucker, imbibed the polymeal diet on a regular basis in an attempt to cheat death. Is this a strange fear to have? Just wondering. I would really like to be healthy and all, but I'm just not sure I'm willing to risk longevity here. Does ANYBODY want to be 100 years old, slowly decomposing in a nursing home bed whilst waiting to die? I know I sure don't.

Which is why I'm seriously considering taking my friend Chelsea's advice: switching to a strict diet of fried chicken and chocolate cake--ie, the "ultimate" diet. And if I did adopt this meal plan, I'd be in luck, because KFC is offering just such a holiday special as we speak. Tempting.

The other horrifying realization about this new polymeal recommendation is that these are all things my kooky old grandmother has been telling me since I was a kid. She was always trying to feed us salmon pate (gag), rhubarb pie, and almonds. And she swallowed fish oil capsules every morning with breakfast, which I always thought was disgusting. What IS fish oil, anyway.

I used to think Granny was just nuts and felt pretty secure in that assessment. But now it seems that she was onto something. Which means if she was right about that, perhaps I should also be drinking aloe vera and snacking on some sort of jellied meat product made out of animal heads. (shudder)

So I guess what I'm saying is: eat polymeal, grow old, and die alone? Or eat everything else, get old enough, and die relatively young and while I still know people to attend my funeral?

Will somebody pass the fried chicken?