And then there was the story about an Englishman who took an entourage into the Himalayas in search of a lost kingdom reputed to have the oldest people on earth.....a Shangri-la as it were.

After many weeks of braving the treacherous terain and blinding snow, they saw a lush green valley between a group of mountains. Making their way down into the low country, they came upon a very old man walking along the road.

"Pardon me sir", said the Englishman, " Is this the fabled land noted for its residents' longevity?"

"Yes it is", replied the old man.

"Would you be so kind as to grant me an interview?", asked the Englishman.

"You do not want to hear my words as I am not the eldest, said the old man, "You will find older people in the village. It so happens that the village elder is now addressing the people in the square"

Thanking the old man, he and his party quickly made their way to the square whereupon he saw an extremely old man surrounded by a mass of people...young and old. It was obviously the person the old man was refering to. His body was bent and broken. His yes were sunken and black, framed by skin hanging from his skull. Lesions were everywhere. He barely spoke above a whisper and it was a wonder that anyone heard him at all. He was clearly the oldest one there. Nonetheless, the people obviously adored him as evidenced by the deference they displayed.

Brushing aside the crowd the Englishman hurried to the old man's side. After setting up the camera equipment, he introduced himself.

"Are you the oldest person in the village?", he asked.

"Yes", replied the old man.

"To what do you ascribe your longevity"

The old man wasted no time in answering. "Every day I smoke three packs of cigarettes and drink a gallon of whiskey. At night I sleep with 3 women, aways different ones. That's how I've survived these many years."

"Amazing", exclaimed the Englishman, "Exactlly how old are you?"

"Twenty three, said the old man.