Our senior writer believes that bionics will enable him to do so till the day he dies.
THE first time I watched The Six Million Dollar Man was also the first time I heard the word “bionic”. My grandmother, who was watching the show with me, explained that the term referred to robotic implants for humans. For readers who are too young to remember, The Six Million Dollar Man was a television series about a fictional astronaut who was grievously injured, before being rebuilt with bionics to make him “better, stronger and faster”. The whole operation, of course, supposedly cost $6m.
I did not imagine what it would be like to be bionic then. But now, as an adult who has to think about issues such as my career, mortgage and eventual retirement, bionics has a newfound appeal. Should my vision begin to fail, a pair of bionic eyes will give me 20/20 eyesight once more. Plus, if I opted for ocular units that also had 200x zoom, I’d be able to spot and avoid accidents way ahead of other drivers. If my hearing goes, a pair of bionic eardrums should do the trick.
These will enable me to listen to my favourite tunes again. Again, if I bought highend models, I’d be so attuned to engines that I’ll discover any problems the moment they start. Bionic limbs would take care of any joint, arm, leg or hip problems that might affl ict me with age. Rheumatism and arthritis would be a thing of the past. I could have reflexes as quick as a Formula One driver’s. And if my heart should fail, well, I imagine that it could be fixed as well. I might be 90, but with a “young” heart, I’d feel as sprightly as a 20-year-old. My wife would definitely approve of that. All this talk about bionics and longevity is great, but ironically, before I can reap the benefits of the former, I’ll first have to realise the latter.
