I had a birthday recently. I’m racking them up. I think I’ve max’ed out on every conceivable senior discount available.

I keep telling myself that I’m going to live for a very long time. This belief is not based on any scientific evidence – or any pseudo-scientific evidence, for that matter.

If I try to think scientifically, I should live a long time because I eat oats. Sometimes I feel like I should “whinny” instead of saying hello when I greet people. Oats are supposed to reduce cholesterol in the body and therefore reduce the risk of heart trouble. Heart trouble is a concern in my family.

(Disclaimer: I am not to be confused with a medical professional and anything I say is not to be construed as medical advice. This is despite the fact that my signature is illegible and I’m willing to watch you and say “Wow! Look at you!” as you test your blood pressure on the machine at Walmart.)

Drinking large amounts of water is supposed to be a really healthy thing to do. Since my kidney stone ordeal of 2012, I’ve been keeping a stream of water running through my system steadier than the San Pitch River. Okay, I realize that isn’t saying much.

But still, I’ve been putting more fluids through me the past few years than I can remember since Mr. Bell, the principal at Ashman Elementary School in Richfield, called me and my friends “drinkers and drainers.” He thought all we did was spend time at the water fountain and in the restroom.

I just don’t know how much life-lengthening confidence to put into eating oats or drinking water or consuming any other healthy food or supplement. I have a Sanpete friend who bought a soft serve ice cream machine that he installed in his home. He put a sign on it that reads: “Eat healthy, exercise – die anyway.”

Pseudo-scientifically, I have nothing to really “hang my hat on” to justify my belief that I’ll live a long time. My dad, back in the olden days, had a traveling gypsy tell him that he was going to live into his 80s, if I remember the story right. She had a horse-drawn wagon and needed hay. Dad felt sorry for her and allowed her to tell him his fortune in exchange for the hay. Dad lived to be 76.

I’ve decided my belief that I’ll live a long time is based solely on the fact that my mid-life crisis is still in full swing. I can’t die if I’m still in the middle part of my life, right?

Plus, I’m backed up by the sign that I have on display in my office. It reads, “God put me on this earth to accomplish a certain number of things … I’m so far behind, I’ll never die!”

I realize that I’m not in the exact mid-point of my life. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be an “honored guest” at Sizzler. (Honored guest is their euphemism for “old person” eligible for their senior menu.)

Author Gail Sheehy has the position that there are predictable crises of adult life. That is the subtitle of her book “Passages,” which I have owned for many years. In the book, she has a couple of Eleanor Roosevelt quotes I thought were interesting – not funny, but interesting.

At age 35, she wrote in her diary: “I do not think I have ever felt so strangely as in the past year. All my self-confidence is gone and I am on the edge, though I never was better physically ….”

At age 57, Eleanor looked back and wrote: “Somewhere along the line of development we discover what we really are, and then we make our real decision for which we are responsible. Make that decision primarily for yourself because you can never really live anyone else’s life, not even your own child’s. The influence you exert is through your own life and what you become yourself.”

I, for one, am still “along the line of development.” I hope I haven’t depressed too many of you. If you’re in your own mid-life crisis, enjoy it. Buy that little red sports car. Or, do like me and my friend: eat ice cream like there’s no tomorrow.

But sprinkle a little oatmeal on top.