Recently, I was on the train with a young actor, Julia, who related a story. Her father, who is around 60 years old, came into New York to see her perform and on a subsequent evening, the two went to a Billy Joel concert. After the concert Julia’s father said, “You know if I had it to do over I would be a songwriter.” Julia replied, “Why not start now?” The father replied (you know what the next line is don’t you) “I couldn’t, I’m too old.”
Much to Julia’s credit, she encouraged her dad to just try to write for a few minutes each day and see how it goes. I don’t know if her father will do this, but sometimes it just takes some encouragement/permission to get started.
One of the things I should realize is that whenever I think/talk/write about arts and aging, it’s through the lens of someone who has spent a good deal of time focusing my professional and personal energies on these subjects. With apologies to my colleagues, I’m about to commit a heresy.
The vast spectrum of older adults (and everyone else for that matter) pay little attention; or care very little about the possibility of writing a poem or creating a collage. Of course I’d like anyone with a modicum of desire or interest to have access to arts learning, but the truth is that even given the opportunity, many people have neither. It’s just not for everyone. There’s a reason that symphony halls seat 3,000 and football stadiums seat 75,000.
Having said that, there might be many more people (like Julia’s dad) with the impetus to engage in some form of art making if, as a society, older adults could stop feeling that it’s too late to start learning.
As you may have read in previous “Ed Talks” columns, the scourge that is ageism is most insidious when it’s self-imposed.
There are people who extol the virtues of ice fishing, sailing, and bridge; none of which I would care to do short of having my life threatened. However, I have a deep respect for anyone with a healthy obsession about these or pretty much any pursuit.
It’s a good thing to care about something — but it’s a really good thing to act on what it is you care about (as opposed to only posting diatribes on Facebook). As much as I’ve had it up to here (I’m holding my hand up to my chin) with American politics, I admire those who back up their online ranting with taking an active role in supporting the legislation or candidate in which they believe.
There is little more dispiriting than encountering someone for whom nothing quickens their pulse. I imagine someone like that will soon find that they have no pulse. So if you haven’t already done so, find something that feeds your soul. Then, in the immortal words of Nike, “Just Do It” (with or without sneakers).
