In the late 20th century the Soviet Union, as it was then called, experimented with freezing cosmonauts (such a grand term!) for long space flights. Back then there were only chemical rockets, and a trip to Mars would take almost a year, so the Soviets looked into ways of cutting down on shipboard life-support. Suspended animation was the euphemism, but it really amounted to making an ice block out of a living creature. They did manage to freeze a dog and a couple of goats, but the Soviets were never able to thaw a higher life form. The cell damage caused by ice crystals was too great, and they never experimented on a human. So they said.
In the Capitalist West however, a way had been found to avoid the problem with the thawing process: freeze the subject, then wait for someone else to figure out the thawing. Wait for years if necessary. Decades, centuries even. This obviously wouldn't be suitable for space travel, but it was a way to extend life into the future. A company was established, SoCal Cryonics, with the following service. Let's say a customer had a terminal disease, something that hadn't been successfully cured. Perhaps the disease was a cancer, heart malfunction or even old age. Near the time of passing the customer would have him or herself frozen, either just the head or the entire body, with the hope of staying preserved until such time as the disease was curable and the customer could be safely thawed. Those who had only their head frozen (an "economy option") had the greater hope that future genetic research could regrow their body, and then transplant their thawed brain into a new young self. Hence a life may be extended; more than that, it was a form of time travel.
The whole procedure was not cheap. Generally the customer, financially stable to begin with, deeded almost all of his or her estate to SoCal Cryonics in perpetuity, presumably saving some resources for their new life. At even modest interest rates an average investment could outstrip inflation nicely.
The amount of faith needed to believe that a company that it would be solvent for decades or even centuries was unusual. The belief that countries and economic systems would be stable for such a long time frame was borderline fanaticism. However, these leaps of faith were somewhat mitigated by the simple truth that death was imminent, so what was there to lose?
Now, Jamie wasn't afraid of dying. He had an agnostic attitude about it, figuring whatever happened after death it was probably interesting. But he had had a good life, at least for the first 75 years, and he missed it. He hadn't done all he wanted to do, hadn't seen all he had wanted to see, hadn't been as much as he could have been. He didn't hate being alive; he hated being old. He deserved another chance; he'd been a good teacher, a good husband, and a good citizen. Jamie had accumulated enough wealth, and even though the drugs and prosthetics could keep him alive several more years at least, he was ready to give SoCal Cryo his business.
It was a tough decision to make. Despite his old-age grumpiness, Jamie the curmudgeon still wanted to see the future, whatever lay ahead. He'd now seen the lunar colony started, the Mars expeditions, the first planned robotic mission to Proxima Centauri. SETI had confirmed an intelligent radio source from space, but was no closer to understanding it than they had been 15 years ago when they first received it.
Yes, Jamie had seen some of the future, and he could see more of it. The choice was, see a little more of it definitely, or take that chance and see the far future, thanks to SoCal Cryo. He had agonized over this for several years; he wasn't dead yet, not really dying either, just decaying. Thanks to the Libertarian Revolution of 2016, a person in America again had the right to do with his body what he wished, so choosing to be frozen before he was medically dead was a viable option.
The event that finally helped him make up his mind was the successful thawing of a laboratory animal that had been frozen 20 years ago. The rat still remembered the maze training it had received, indicating that brain functions were normal, and the rat was healthy. There still was no 100% reliable way to have himself cloned so that a new body would be waiting, nor had brain transplants been successfully performed. Humans had not been thawed out either, but the time was right. Progress was being made, so Jamie made arrangements.
Getting his affairs in order took some time. Which asset does one keep over the stretch of time? The stock market could vary considerably; buildings could be razed or otherwise destroyed. Besides, there was SoCal Cryo to pay. At last he decided on keeping his open land; SoCal would prefer more liquid assets anyway, and at least he would have place to go, then, whenever. Anything that was not a serious asset he gave away, save for some personal mementos and other items which may be collectibles in the future (his Lionel electric trains from the last century would bring big bucks, if he could part with them, if they even used bucks in the future).
Getting anywhere when you are 117 years old was difficult. Jamie's first stroke at 86 had impaired his walking, his broken hip at 97 had removed the rest of his ambulating ability, despite the implants. His wheelchair had remotes for everything in his house, and he could at one time even drive his car with it, but it was too dangerous now. Reflexes at 117 weren't exactly lightning quick. His doctors didn't agree with his decision, being a conservative lot, but finally assented to getting him transported out to Riverside for the final preparations. He found the double meaning of 'final preparation' humorous.
The trip along the freeway was uneventful. Jamie brought two of his four nurses with him. He had provided for all of them with a year's salary, although he was sure each would find work if she wanted, even in their sixth decade. These two were a reassurance that, on this last trip, he'd make it in one piece.
His car was one of those with automatic controls, one that the highway could command. He and his entourage were in a car-train: dozens of cars moving along quickly with not one meter of space between them. Jamie glanced at the older manual lanes, and saw hundreds of fast-looking cars moving at no more than 20kph. Strange, he thought. Don't they get it? In all his years as a student of life, so many things had seemed self-evident: physics, technology, and most of all the fallacies that most people take as truths (like fast-looking cars go fast). The appearances foisted by marketing onto the masses to increase sales, or the images thrown out over the networks to sway opinion one way or another. Vagueness to cover lies. Spin, they used to call it.
The facades behind facades behind facades-why can't people see the way it really is? And why do they have the so much trouble reasoning out the most basic of problems? Ruled by emotion, I guess, thought Jamie, not by intellect. As long as they are comfortable, as long as they have the illusion of a fast car, or just a stable life, (and as long as there are enough knows to give them their illusions and keep everything running!), most people are happy.
Ignorance is bliss, ran the old saw, and some are more blissful than others. Is it a linear function? Are the more ignorant happier? Probably so, if the ignorant are comfortable. So long as their bodily and emotional needs are met, as they are in abundance today, the vast numbers of know-nots are content and enjoy life. So what if the great intellectual achievements of science and art escape them? So what if they can't see beyond their noses, or behind the facades? Happiness is good, Jamie thought, no matter how you obtain it. He was not happy as a withered old man, despite his lifetime membership in the know fraternity. But he was going to do something about that.