The Pixies and Umbilical Cord Blood

The first time I saw the Pixies in concert I nearly didn't get a wristband which allowed me access to the 19-and-over drinking cage for lack of valid photo identification.  This obviously would have been a tragedy.  At age 27 I wasn't asked for ID with consistent frequency and so I had opted to leave my passport* at home so as not to accidentally lose it.  Fortunately, I found someone who was handing out wristbands and irresponsibly not checking ID, so crisis averted.  Just before the band hit the stage, I impressed Sara so much with the speed at which I drank 2 bottles of Smirnoff Ice that she asked me to be one of her bridesmaids, thus cementing our long and lasting friendship.     

I saw the Pixies for the 5th time last week.  They were awesome, as usual.  Even more awesome was the fact that both times that I went for beer I got carded, first by a security guard monitoring entry into the lounge area, and then by the bartender.**  The first security guard glanced over my passport, looked back up at me, and said "Wow.  Still looking good."  Sara was right behind me and was also asked for ID.  The security guard was not put off by her "But I'm pregnant," replying "Doesn't mean you're legal."  Valid point.

When I got to the bartender, she looked at my ID, squinted at it, squinted at me, and then asked, "So what's your secret?"  I responded that it was expensive moisturizer compounded with the use of an elixir made up mostly of the tears of young boys.  I should clarify that by "young boys" I don't mean children***, I refer to the numerous boy-men that I have left heartbroken as I tornado my way through the dating pool.  Now that I think of it, I may have to amend my youth-enhancing formula, as the tears of young boys are increasingly hard to come by.  I'm not confident that the tears of age-appropriate men in their 30's will have the same rejuvenating effect.

On a not completely unrelated note, Sara and Chris attended a baby show several weekends ago at which they were enlightened to the benefits of harvesting and storing umbilical cord blood stem cells.  These can presently be used in the treatment of more than 70 unidentified life-threatening illnesses, and in the future it is believed they will be used therapeutically for many more afflictions, including diabetes, heart disease, stroke, lung disease and spinal cord injury.  The company representative admitted that after the 5 years the company has been in existence and many thousands of clients, nobody has actually made use of any umbilical blood, leading Chris and Sara to the conclusion that it's probably a huge waste of about a thousand dollars a year and not an investment they are likely to make.

It left me to wonder, however, if umbilical blood can be used to rebuild a severed spinal cord, is there anything of a more immediate nature that it might it be capable of rebuilding?  Surely I'm not the only one who's noticed that the sleepless nights and general stress involved with child-rearing tends to age new parents 10 years over the course of a few short months.  It seems a shame to let precious stem cells drip into a biohazard bucket when perhaps they could be massaged into the tired skin around the eyes and mouths of said new parents, restoring its elasticity to that of teenagers.  Maybe they could store the stem cells on something like a contingency basis... if the skin on their faces is restored, maybe spinal cords as well.

Of course, umbilical stem cells are only useful to people with matching genetic material, so they won't help me any.  However, my history of getting ID'd at their shows leads me to believe that there is something about the Pixies that restores some of my youthful vitality, so perhaps I will give myself weekly pore-refining and fine-line reducing facial masks while listening to Doolittle over and over again.  And Botox.  I'm not at all ashamed to admit that I'm thinking of incorporating Botox into my 5-year plan.  And by 5-year plan, I might mean 5-month plan.  We'll see how it goes.

*Yes, I carry my passport everywhere as my go-to ID.  I have a paralyzing fear of driving and have never attempted to get a driver's licence.

 **I am compelled to point out that it is largely believed that habits like the drinking of alcohol and the smoking of cigarettes cause premature aging of the skin.  I offer myself up as proof that neither of these assumptions can possibly be true, because I drink and smoke like a savage yet continue to exude a youthful glow.  Drink up.

***While not the biggest fan of children, I don't actually take pleasure in making them cry.  Having a child around is enough of a challenge, never mind a crying child.