We're Gonna Die

Never Done: I was asked for my creative input specifically because I am over 45

For anyone who came to reading this blog late, the reason I am doing this year-long Never Done project in the first place is to come to terms with my real age -- now 48, but 47 when I started -- and to discover what it really means to be ambling toward 50. Are there any limitations I need to accept? What are the opportunities? What can I push myself on? What should I be appreciating? What do I actually appreciate if I take the time to notice it? How can I come to terms with my disappointments about the past, and my fears about the future?

And so it could not have been more perfect that Young Jean Lee asked if people over 45 would watch and give feedback on a rehearsal of her new cabaret show, WE'RE GONNA DIE, which opens next week at Joe's Pub. She describes her show as an evening of heartbreak, despair, aging, sickness, and death. Exactly. What was I just saying about my disappointments about the past, and my fears about the future?

It was the first time that anyone specifically asked for my over-45 expertise, and in turn it was the first time that I felt genuinely happy to be over 45. I wasn't happy just because any old someone needed middle-aged input -- I wouldn't have felt the same if a marketing focus group wanted to know what kind of car I am most likely to buy (I have a thing for the Toyota Matrix.) It mattered to me that it was Young Jean -- whose work I respect like crazy, and who happens to be making a show about precisely what I am also dealing with. (Since her show isn't open yet, I don't want to say too much about it. But if you live in or around NYC, and if you like intelligent, insightful, emotionally vulnerable storytelling and indie rock music, you should go.)

It occurred to me early in the performance that Young Jean is a little young to be facing these intense fears of mortality. I don't think I was facing them at 37, although I was 36 when my father died, so you know what? Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe that was exactly when the fear started to grip me. But regardless of my experience, what I love about Young Jean's show is the way she pinpoints a series of heart-wrenching experiences in her own life, and with them, she draws us in to her emotional reality, and shows us that she has earned her (slightly young) mid-life crisis cred.

Most people don't get to choose a theme, comb through their lives, and then craft a show that explores the ways their particular experiences tell a story to expound on the theme. But that's what artists get to do, and it's what society relies on artists to do. Young Jean's new cabaret is deceptively simple -- stories and songs about her life -- but I believe is in fact a significant addition to the body of literature that addresses heartbreak, despair, sickness, aging, and death.

I will be going on April 2, if anyone wants to join me, and we can see how much of my feedback gets integrated into the final piece.