Latest news with #Cleveland-born
New York Post
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- New York Post
World's oldest practicing doctor, 102, reveals ‘enemy of longevity'
Most people slow down with age, trading suits and deadlines for slippers and daytime TV. Not Dr. Howard Tucker. The Cleveland-born neurologist treated patients for nearly eight decades, earning the Guinness World Record title for oldest practicing doctor just before his 99th birthday. Now 102, Tucker may have hung up his white coat, but he hasn't hit the brakes. He spends his days lecturing future doctors at Case Western Reserve University and consulting on medical-legal cases — thanks to the law degree he picked up at the age of 67. 5 Dr. Howard Tucker treated patients from 1947 until 2022. drhowardtucker/Instagram Oh, and he's gone viral on TikTok while promoting What's Next, a documentary about his life, produced by his grandson. Tucker recently peeled back the curtain on his remarkable run — and how he's stayed sharp, driven and active well into his second century. 'Retirement, I think, is the enemy of longevity,' Tucker recently told TODAY's Al Roker. 'You have to have some purpose in life and get up in the morning and know what you're about,' he added. Tucker continued practicing medicine until age 100, only stopping when the hospital where he worked shuttered its doors in 2022. 5 Tucker will turn 103 years old in July. whatsnextmovie/Instagram If it wasn't for the closure, Tucker told PEOPLE, he'd 'absolutely' still be seeing patients. He's even 'putting out feelers' for another gig — though he admits, 'nobody wants me at my age.' 'But I'll keep trying,' he said. Tucker has no intention of stepping away from his current workload. But for anyone thinking about throwing in the towel, he's got a word of advice. 'If they retire from their work, they should at least do something as a hobby, whether it be communal work or self-hobbies,' he told TODAY. 'You need a stimulus for the brain daily.' Science backs him up. Studies show that having a sense of purpose, continually learning new things and engaging in activities that require problem-solving, creativity and attention are key for staying mentally sharp into old age. 5 Tucker is one of the oldest people to receive a law degree. drhowardtucker/Instagram The average American lifespan was 77.5 years in 2022 — and Tucker blew past that long ago. His parents lived to 84 and 96, but he said good genes are only part of the equation. 'Heredity and family history of longevity is a healthy start. However, it must be supported by moderation of nutrition, alcohol, and happiness,' Tucker wrote in his Guinness submission. For Tucker, happiness comes from work, his wife of over 70 years, their four kids, 10 grandchildren — and a lifelong love for Cleveland sports. Research shows that people with strong social connections and a positive outlook tend to outlive those who are isolated or depressed. 5 Tucker has been married to his wife for more than 70 years. drhowardtucker/Instagram Tucker has also made staying active a lifelong priority. Writing for CNBC, Tucker said he's always avoided letting himself get out of shape. He gave up skiing after a fall in his late 80s left him with a broken neck, but he continues to snowshoe and hits the treadmill for at least three miles a day in his home gym. Tucker noted that even small habits make a difference, with studies suggesting just 15 minutes of walking a day can cut the risk of early death by nearly 25%. 5 The documentary about Tucker's life, What's Next, was the People's Voice Winner at the 2025 Webby Awards. Getty Images for The Webby Awards His diet is simple. On the mindbodygreen podcast, Tucker said he starts his day with seasonal fruit and sometimes cereal, washed down with 2% milk and a cup of tea instead of coffee. He usually skips lunch to stay sharp, and dinner is typically fish and vegetables — especially broccoli — with the occasional serving of meat. He and his wife end the day with something sweet, sometimes fruit, sometimes ice cream. Trucker rarely drinks but makes an exception for his favorite cocktail. 'I love my martinis,' he told Medical Economics. He's never touched a cigarette. With his 103rd birthday around the corner in July, Tucker isn't wasting time worrying about the end. 'I never think of death,' he told TODAY. 'To be alive is to know that you're going to die because life is a fatal disease. And so I live it.'
Axios
21-05-2025
- Sport
- Axios
Pacers and Knicks ready to make new NBA playoff memories
The Pacers -Knicks playoff rivalry will be rekindled tonight at Madison Square Garden. Why it matters: The best-of-seven series that tips off in just hours is the big one for the Eastern Conference, with the winner advancing to the NBA Finals to face either the Timberwolves or Thunder. The big picture: A Pacers triumph would suddenly give sports fans from around the globe another reason to book a trip to the Circle City this summer after the Indianapolis 500 and before July's WNBA All-Star Game. What they're saying: Pacers All-Star Pascal Siakam said it will be important to acknowledge the significance of the series without getting overwhelmed by the noise. "Be present in the moment and worry about us," he said after practice Tuesday. "History is always gonna write itself at the end of the day. You can't worry about that. You've got to worry about us wanting to get better every game." State of play: While many pundits and Cleveland-born, Central Indiana-based local news reporters incorrectly predicted a different final pairing, Pacers vs. Knicks is must-see TV that brings together two of the nation's most passionate basketball cities. Flashback: Indiana has a 5-3 all-time record against New York in the playoffs. The rivalry hit its peak in the late '90s, when the teams played each other six times in the postseason from 1993 to 2000. That era also gave birth to the epic Reggie Miller vs. Spike Lee beef. Last year, the Pacers sent the Knicks home from the Eastern Conference semifinals in seven games. They have met in the conference finals three times, where the Knicks hold a 2-1 advantage. Fun fact: This week's series was also accompanied by the news that Pacers star and big shot artist Tyrese Haliburton will finally make his debut as a WWE wrestler — but only digitally. Haliburton made a surprise guest appearance on WWE's "Raw" on Netflix this week to announce that he will be a playable character in the WWE 2K25 video game, followed by a screenshot of his in-game render. Fans will be able to pit Hali against the likes of John Cena and The Rock on June 25. Two other NBA players will be announced as playable wrestlers in the coming weeks. 💭 Justin's thought bubble: The NBA and WWE would be fools to not make Jalen Brunson one of the other players featured in the game, especially considering the obvious hints being dropped. How to listen: 93.5/107.5 The Fan.
Los Angeles Times
29-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Los Angeles Times
20 years and counting: How a chance encounter with a street musician led to a lasting bond
I was driving through Westlake, on my way to pay Nathaniel Anthony Ayers a visit at his nursing home, when it hit me. My God. Has it been 20 years? Hard to believe, but yes. The year was 2005. It was around noon, as I recall, on a drizzly, late-winter day. I heard music in Pershing Square, followed the sound and spotted him next to a shopping cart heaped over with his belongings. And so it began: Mr. Ayers with a violin that was missing two strings, trying to get back on track three decades after illness forced him out of New York's prestigious Juilliard School. Me with my notebook, getting to know this Cleveland-born prodigy while trying to navigate a mental health system that left thousands fending for themselves on the streets of Los Angeles. Neither of us could have known where we'd be headed together in the years to come. To Disney Hall. To the Hollywood Bowl. To Dodger Stadium. To the beach. To the White House. To an operatic series of starts and stops, of swelling strings and crashing cymbals, riding the waves of what Mr. Ayers calls the music of the gods. 'Can you believe we've been friends for 20 years?' I said to him during my visit a week ago. He's been immobilized by a hip injury, and looked up quizzically from his bed. He hadn't done the math, but it couldn't be disputed — we'd taken the express train from our 50s to our 70s. He smiled and said that when we met, he was 'on the street, homeless, playing a violin with two strings.' That was the headline of the first column. 'Violinist has the world on 2 strings,' a reference to his unshakable love of music, despite his predicament. He played near the Beethoven statue in Pershing Square, for inspiration, he said. And the sign on his shopping cart said, 'Little Walt Disney Concert Hall.' I reminded Mr. Ayers — that's what I call him, and he calls me Mr. Lopez — of the response to the first column I wrote about him. Soon after, six readers sent him violins, two others gave him cellos and one donated a piano we hauled into a Skid Row music room, with his name on the door, at the homeless services agency now known as The People Concern. It took a year to convince him to move indoors, and he taught me so much in that time, primarily about how every individual in his shoes has a unique set of needs and fears, as well as a complicated history of trauma and stigmatization. Such people often languish in a disjointed, multiagency system of care. Through Mr. Ayers, I've met countless dedicated public servants in the mental health field. They are out there every day doing difficult, noble work, offering comfort and changing lives. But the need is great, complicated by the street drugs some people use for self-medication, and progress is often stymied by multiple forces despite billions of dollars worth of investments in solutions. Jon Sherin, former chief of the L.A. County Department of Mental Health, said that while good work is done by many, bureaucracy sabotages innovation and erodes the morale of front-line workers. 'We live in a world in which people are paid to deliver a service regardless of whether it has any impact, and billing becomes the primary agenda of the bureaucracy and everybody in it,' said Sherin, a psychiatrist who endured similar frustrations when he was at the Veterans Administration. 'We're taking care of process, and we're not taking care of outcomes.' The goal, Sherin said, must be adequate resources for housing and help, along with creating safe living environments that offer what he calls the three Ps — people, place and purpose. In the last two decades, many have stepped up to provide those things for Mr. Ayers, with varying degrees of success and no shortage of either heartbreak or hope. His sister Jennifer is his conservator, longtime family friend Bobby Witbeck checks in on him and so does long-ago Juilliard classmate Joe Russo. Gary Foster, who produced the movie 'The Soloist,' based on my book by the same name, has served Mr. Ayers and many others for years as a board member at The People Concern. Back in 2005, Peter Snyder, then an L.A. Philharmonic cellist, offered to give lessons to Mr. Ayers. They took place in an apartment where he would eventually live. Adam Crane, who was then working in communications at the L.A. Phil, opened the doors of Disney Hall to Mr. Ayers and reintroduced him to a community of musicians: Pianist Joanne Pearce Martin, cellist Ben Hong and violinist Vijay Gupta, among others, befriended Mr. Ayers and played music with him. One night at Disney Hall, Crane and Hong took us backstage after a concert so Mr. Ayers could reunite with a former Juilliard classmate by the name of Yo-Yo Ma. 'Nathaniel ... has had an astounding, life-changing impact on me,' said Crane, who is now with the New York Philharmonic. 'I've often spoken about the power of music to transform lives, but I've never experienced it as profoundly and passionately as I have in the time I've spent with Nathaniel. From the first time we met in 2005 — when he was in my office playing my cello (his joy, as well as his past training, shone through) — to the years that followed, I've seen Nathaniel both medicated and un-medicated, living on and off the streets. The one constant has been his dependence on — and sheer love of — music for his happiness and survival.' I knew there was an instant bond between Crane and Ayers, but I didn't know the full story until later. 'There was an immediate connection,' Crane explained, 'not only in our shared love of music, but in our battles with mental illness, however differently it manifested in each of us. Nathaniel has helped shape my understanding of mental illness and the human condition, and he has profoundly deepened my perspective on what music can mean to people.' I visited Mr. Ayers a few weeks ago with one of his former social workers, Anthony Ruffin, who lost his home in the Altadena fire in January. Mr. Ayers was not always Ruffin's easiest client — he could be resistant to help and even combative. At one point, Mr. Ayers 'fired' Ruffin, just as he had 'fired' Ruffin's mentor, Mollie Lowery. But Ruffin is a skilled observer who saw through the mask to the essence of the man, and he was inspired by the resilience he witnessed. 'There's so much going on in the world, and when I meet and talk with Nathaniel, it makes the world seem perfect,' Ruffin said. 'When he speaks to me, he always gives me a little bit of insight about life in general, and I walk away from his presence humbled. Extremely humbled.' Mr. Ayers has plenty he could complain about. Being homeless for so many years has taken a toll on his body, and for the past couple of years, hip and hand injuries have kept him from playing his violin, cello, keyboard, double bass and trumpet. But on my last visit, when I asked how he would describe the last 20 years, he didn't hesitate. 'Good,' he said cheerily. We talked about our visit to the White House, when he performed at the 20th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act and met then-President Obama, sporting a white suit and top hat he had purchased at Hollywood Suit Outlets. And we talked about his reunion with Yo-Yo Ma, when the cellist hugged him and said they were brothers in music. I remember Mr. Ayers refusing to get out of my car one night until the last note of the Sibelius Symphony No. 2 played on my radio. I remember him saying that in his New York apartment, he practiced Tchaikovsky's Serenade for Strings on his upright bass while watching snow fall outside his window. I remember the night on Skid Row when, before falling asleep, he grabbed two sticks on which he had written the names Beethoven and Brahms. When the rats come up from the sewers, he said, a tap of the sticks would make them scatter. Since our chance encounter 20 years ago, he has given me a greater understanding of patience, perseverance, humility, loyalty, love. He is a reminder that beyond first impressions, stereotypes and the borders we construct, there is shared humanity and grace in opening yourself to the richness of it. When I asked Mr. Ayers his advice on getting by, even through all the hardships and disappointments he has faced, he pointed to the radio next to his bed, which is tuned always to classical KUSC, 91.5 on the FM dial — home to the music of the Gods. 'Listen to the music,' he said.
