Talking with Susan Jacoby on growing old

When did old become a dirty word? And when did the sexy sky-diving centenarian become the mascot for aging well? In "Never Say Die: The Myth and Marketing of the New Old Age" (Pantheon, $27.95), Susan Jacoby, former Washington Post reporter and author of 10 books of nonfiction, including the bestselling "The Age of American Unreason," mixes rigorous reportage and tart-tongued criticism with memoir and history, slashing through romanticized versions of the golden years and delivering tough truths.

You talk about marketing terms such as "real age," "young old" and "wellderly." How do you identify?

I'm 65, and while I don't think of myself as old, I don't mind using the word. I'm certainly not middle-aged -- how many 130-year-olds do you see walking around? The deadline is in sight, literally. I'm never going to be healthier or more energetic than I am today, so it is more important to do more now than it was 20 years ago.

You make the point that life after 80 is unglamorous and often, frankly, sad. Why do we want to live to 100?

It's natural for humans to think living longer is a good thing. Real lives of the old-old are out of the picture. The media only show financially secure, healthy, happy old people -- and I wrote some of those articles. People in their 50s and 60s are happier than those in their 30s and 40s, but in the 80s, happiness levels drop; you've lost your partner, your health has declined and half of people over 85 have dementia. Look, I'd love to be the writing equivalent of Betty White. But that's just not the norm.

We learn that 200 years ago, some townships in America auctioned off impoverished old residents to farm owners in need of workers.

It is such a myth that Americans always respected old age. There were no provisions -- only when the Social Security Act was passed was life any good. We are going to see a rise in old age poverty again. Those who are retiring and becoming old in the next 20 years are going to have a much tougher time than anticipated because of the recession -- this will be a huge challenge to our society.

The prospect of having no one to care for you as you get older is terrifying. What's the answer?

I can plan all I want, but if I have one wrong gene -- Alzheimer's -- it will be for nothing. You can plan for autonomy only as long as you have a working brain. There are a lot more people like me now than in my parents' generation, without kids or a husband. You need someone to make basic medical decisions for you and you need to put it all in writing. But this kind of planning is not easy. This requires looking the unthinkable in the face.