Older People Acting Youngish

Do most people "act their age?" And what exactly does this mean?

I do remember being in contract, in the music industry. I think back on how nervous I was every day. How I looked was important. And it was certainly in my interest to act "young." When I met with publishers, my voice would rise considerably. I wore clothes a high school kid would wear. Cartoon t-shirts and mini skirts and Chuck Taylor high-tops.

I didn't want to be perceived as a graduate of Harvard University with a Master's in Education. My validity had to do with smiling, looking cute, and not having any big ideas, or knowing what to do. I was to go with whatever my producer suggested. If I had other ideas, I had to figure out a way to get them across.

I was asked to wear a bikini and walk around the producer's pool. I refused on grounds of shyness. I was asked to wear my form fitting leather trousers and tight t-shirts.

Most of the men I knew in the music industry, at that time when we were all hot to get a record deal, dressed like disaffected college boys, with ripped jeans and faded jackets. The fashion they wore was expensive, though, and not actually worn and torn.

It was all a guise, maybe, but every girl somehow knew that record industry men liked girls, not women. And not sexy, necessarily. More like schoolgirl you wanted to f***.

It was a powerful thing to be desired by a music industry guy. You felt you were on the way to becoming a star. You wanted to keep it that way.

Looking back all of this feels wrong in so many ways. My experience with other women/girls was never warm-feeling. I didn't bond with them, not because I didn't want to, but because I was the "Signed One" and an object of gossip and maybe even competition. I pretended not to know that I had been given an opportunity a lot of people hungered for. I had a deal, an advance, a well-known producer, even if he came from another time period. He was "legendary," having produced Harry Nilsson and Carly Simon and more recently Rod Stewart. I was the little girl who hung on his arm, the girl he took to the famous LA restaurants and bars and presented to his fellow industry people. Shy, laughing, looking down, needing him.

Playing this role didn't last too long. The small company sold to Universal and everyone who had been signed was either dropped or offered a new contract. Mine would have entailed giving up being an Artist and moving to Nashville to join a writing team. I didn't want to move and I didn't want to renounce my own eccentric creative self, to write hits

for Shania Twain.

How quickly the youthy vibe fell away. Before I knew it, I was teaching physical fitness to older adults with dementia and wearing school teacher clothes.

I'd had my star moment. Now it was time to grow up and get a job.

I have known musical artists who became successful and never had to work the dreaded "day job." They seemed to have no money worries, no schedules, no expectation that they would grow up and act responsible. Other people were responsible for their responsibilities. Their lives were protected, in a sense, Peter Panned. Floating angels and helpers and assistants handled their lives, They made appearances. And then they disappeared. They became used to the public eye and the paparazzi, and therefore entitled themselves to purport their "brand." And I think maintaining that image took a lot of their money, time and energy.

I think we are still caught in an age of women pleasing men, judged by men, given opportunities by men, rejected or deemed as belonging still to that "It" class.

The thing is, it's expensive to join that club.

Real youth are having existential crises looking at climate change, extinction of species, and the unaffordability of most of the events that used to be relatively available to all.

Real youth, unless they're financially endowed, are struggling.

Older people acting youngish have paid to impersonate these new generations they couldn't possibly understand. Why? Because they believe that youth is carefree, when it is exactly the opposite.

Being young is no picnic. Neither is ageing.

Imagining a role provides a relief from the reality of what it is to be a human being.

You're born alone, you come into power or you don't. You make money or you don't. You find love or you don't. And then it's kind of over.

The only conclusion I am coming to is that the people I am attracted to could care less about how old anyone is. They fall in love with souls and stories and can find value in a 90 year old as well as a teenager.

This is the saving grace of the arts, if we can get past the branding and the veneer.

We need to be bold enough to go there. The good part about getting older is when you realize soul connections are not only necessary but highly possible.

On a day, you can act old, young, and in between.

And you might be loved just because of that.