Before I get started with this column, let me say I'm profoundly happy just the way I am. I don't mind being a little bit fat, I don't mind having to wear contact lenses, and I don't mind getting old. What I mind is dying. I don't want to. Die, that is.

With that in mind, I've started watching what I eat, exercising every day and cutting back on the beer. Because, like most Americans, I've been convinced by my television that - if I eat nothing but Brussels sprouts, tofu and mineral water; if I get plenty of sleep (with the help of Sominex); if I take Flintstones vitamins; if I buy a Thigh Master and a Bowflex; if I sweat to the oldies; if I don't eat meat; if I eat nothing but meat; and if I vote Republican - I'll never die!

That's right, never!  I should probably mention that - again, according to my TV - in order to live forever, I'll also have to ask my doctor about Glaxo, Flixoid, Margowelle, Sebucid, Zipswazzle and Dammitol, whatever they are. (I'm guessing these are prescription drugs, but for all I know, they could be the names of some Hollywood starlet's adopted kids.)

Anyway, in an effort to live forever I'm now "power-walking" every day on my lunch hour.

Sure, I'd rather be over at the Chinese buffet, stuffing my face with coconut shrimp and moo goo gai pan, preferably followed by a short nap, but like I said, I need to avoid this whole "dying" thing.

I don't really mind the walking; it's peaceful, relaxing and not too strenuous. I'd like it better if I could get the guy from the Chinese place to follow me around with a plate of sweet and sour pork "just in case," but you can't have everything.

Besides, I don't remember reading anywhere that sweet and sour pork does anything to postpone death, and that's our goal here.

I've been at if for about a week now, and the main problem, near as I can figure, is that all the food that does (allegedly) keep death at bay tastes so bad that death starts looking better and better as you go along.

Brussels sprouts, for instance. They're part of that whole "dark, green, leafy" vegetables thing my doctor recommended last time I went in for a checkup. There's also spinach, collard greens and kale. Of the three, spinach is the only one I'm familiar with, thanks to Popeye. I have no idea what collard greens or kale are. I do know collard greens taste like lawn clippings and kale is vaguely reminiscent of the stuff I scrape off the insides of my aquarium. Beyond that, I couldn't tell you.

But if eating fish tank scrapings is what it takes to live forever, I'll do it. (They're not too bad with a little butter and salt, actually. Unfortunately, butter and salt - according to my doctor - are the twin kisses of death.)

But back to our main topic - which is either exercise, bad food, or death; I haven't decided yet - all this good health stuff is hard to take. Especially with no beer to wash it down.

I'll keep at it though. Because I'm afraid to die. It's as simple as that.

The fear of death seems to be hard-wired into our collective psyche, in much the same way as is our need to watch reruns of "Law & Order" and "Friends." It makes no sense, but it's almost impossible to overcome.

Most of the great philosophers and theologians throughout time have weighed in on the subject. Socrates thought the afterlife was either a paradise or an endless sleep. Either one of these sound OK to me, especially if I've been out really late the night before, but Socrates spent his whole life walking around in a bathrobe, so you have to ask yourself: "Is this really a guy whose opinion I can trust?"

Thomas Aquinas took a pretty straight forward Judeo Christian view of the afterlife: It was either a paradise, where the happy souls of True Believers are allowed to cavort with seraphim and cherubim (whatever they are - maybe more adopted Hollywood children), or a fiery hell; a place where the souls of people who watched "American Idol" are forced to throw loaded dice in endless games of "craps" with the devil, games in which the devil always wins.

Many of the Eastern religions put forth the notion of reincarnation, a theory which seems a bit odd to most Americans, with the possible exception of Shirley McClain, who was excellent in that "Steel Magnolias" movie, by the way, even though it was - let's be real - a major chick flick.

But again, back to our topic (which, it turns out, is "death" after all).

Reincarnation seems like a good idea to me, though a little investigation (which is all I'm willing to put into one of these columns) indicates I won't be coming back as an eagle, cougar or spotted Bolivian tree frog, as I had once hoped. People, for the most part, come back as people, apparently.

At any rate, my extensive research* of the topic** shows positively*** that nobody knows for sure what happens after we die.****

Regardless, it seems my best bet is to simply avoid death altogether. So I'll walk at lunch time. I'll ride my bicycle in the evening. I'll eat the spinach, the collard greens, and the aquarium scrapings. At least for a while.

Then I'll probably do what I always do: go back to eating burritos, drinking beer, and trying to not think so much about death.

* 10 minutes on the Internet

** Death, remember?

*** Or inconclusively - you decide

**** Unless they do - I'm too lazy to argue about it

Do you have a comment, question or after-life theory for Mike Taylor? Send it to: mtaylor@midmich.net.