57

Just A Number - MY Number

It’s my birthday this week. I’ll be 57.

Throughout my life, my dad never wanted his birthday acknowledged. I thought it was super weird as a kid, who wouldn’t want to get a birthday party? Now he’s 85 and in good health, with a good quality of life. He splits his time between Brooklyn and Oxford, England. He’s never been in denial about his age; he just doesn’t like to think or talk about it. Both my dad and my mom, who is also healthy and active (they are long divorced), have changed my thinking on aging. I figure I’ve got a good shot to have a decent quality of life in 30 years, and it’s worth investing in trying to make that happen. My present-day approach to health and fitness is about training for the person I want to be in my 80s, and it works for me.¹

I differ from my dad in that I do publicly celebrate getting older (obviously), and I enjoy telling people how old I am. I like it when it freaks people out a little. I inhabit a world with so many much younger people. I like to think it isn’t because I necessarily look younger than my age (I don’t think I do); it’s that I seem younger than my age. I certainly feel younger - I feel better physically than I did in my thirties. So much of aging is mindset. If we maintain a mindset where age isn’t a big issue, or if we don’t ascribe significance to age differences in our interactions, then we can accomplish more. But to be clear, I’m not trying to hide my age or blend in. I want people to know how old I am, but I’d prefer that it isn’t on anyone’s mind.

I recently had an hours long, consequential meeting with an artist I represent, along with their business team. Seven of us attended, and I was the oldest person by nearly a quarter century. Our age difference didn’t cross my mind during the meeting, but all of the insight I brought to the meeting came from over thirty years of experience working with musicians. My value in the meeting came from my depth of experience, but it felt like we communicated as peers. Perhaps everyone else in the room remained constantly aware of our respective ages and generational divides, but it didn’t come across. I was in my flow, doing my job, drawing from my experience, giving advice but never (God I hope) condescending. I spoke with this client today and mentioned that I turn 57 this weekend. Genuinely surprised, he said, “Wow, you don’t seem like you’re 57.” I appreciate that so much more than “You don’t look 57.”

In business, we only thrive in collaboration when we connect, but we benefit from sharing our diverse experiences. When people talk about diversity, they generally mean with respect to categories of people who have been marginalized. People of color, women, queer people, people who are gender fluid, people of different faiths - immensely valuable perspectives that have been pushed out of our discourse. We work for diversity to correct historic, structural, and cultural inequities, but we also pursue diversity because having a diverse team, or board of directors, or student body, or dinner party, makes us better because of the diversity of viewpoints and richness of experience. I am very much in favor of pursuing diversity for these and other reasons, diversity makes us better, deepens our understanding. However, the category of diversity we often fail to consider is age diversity. The culture allows us to be agist. I understand that there’s less sense of urgency because younger generations tend to drive the diversity conversation, and older generations tend to be the most resistant to change. The greatest defenders of structural inequities tend to be older people. Nevertheless, I believe there is great potential value in age diversity within groups.

The big caveat is that older people have to do the work to relate and empathize with the concerns and viewpoints of younger people. On one hand, we need to keep up culturally so that our attitudes, opinions, and worldviews don’t conflict with or offend younger generations. But also we need to be able to fully inhabit the person we were at their age to really connect. The mindset of an older person should encompass every person we’ve been throughout their journey, and we should seek to access our younger selves to achieve deeper understanding. If we want to be effective as we get older chronologically, we need to have the sensitivity, compassion, and insight to access our younger selves when communicating with younger people. I suppose the conundrum is that I want everyone to know my age, but I don’t want them to ever think about it. That’s on me.

The reality is that younger generations in management are often resistant to hiring or working with older people, but I don’t think it’s entirely about ageism. It’s largely because younger people fear that they won’t be able to relate with older people, that older attitudes and worldviews are inflexible and counter-productive. They fear that older people don’t embrace or utilize technology, or understand the culture of tech. On balance, the negatives caused by the baggage older people tend to carry will outweigh the value of their experience. Often they are correct. It’s substantially people in my generation who chant “Make America Great Again,” indulging nostalgia for a mythical era that never happened. It’s older people who will believe anything they read on the Internet, who “do their own research,” and consider YouTube binging to be critical thinking. It’s embarrassing and for these reasons we deserve to be marginalized. But we can do so much better, and bring so much more to the table. The trick is to think of the changing culture in terms of opportunity, not in terms of what is being taken from us.

My professional world consists mostly of much younger people. It helps that I can talk to my teenage and early 20s kids and that I respect their viewpoint. It’s important for me to keep up with technology and how it impacts the culture. I need to understand how the culture moves, and how music impacts culture and culture impacts music. Still, the thing that helps me more than anything to counsel young musicians is that I can remember exactly how it felt to be in that insecure place of trying to make a living from my own creativity. I keep in touch with the fear of failure I experienced and the constant ego struggles as I navigated public life. The empathy comes easy, because I viscerally remember the anxiety and uncertainty of living that life. No matter how successful the musician, all of that is part of it.

I caught up with a friend I’ve known for 30 years yesterday, someone I consider a mentor and inspiration. He’s about to turn 66, basically a decade ahead of me. He seemed a lot older to me when I was 30 and he was 40! He told me he hardly ever thinks about his age while doing his job, because most of the people he talks to every day are under 40. They accept him, they respect him, and it doesn’t matter. I benefit from my friend’s experience and wise counsel, but I’m not prone to think about it either. We’re peers. He inhabits his life and career in a way that transcends age and generation. We don’t get hung up on all the “boomer” vs. “gen X” bullshit, because that’s about demographics, media hype. It’s meaningless with regard to our personal connection. He isn’t burdened by boomer cliches and attitudes, nor am I hung up on “Gen X” tropes. He is thoughtful, laser sharp, and he always keeps up with our changing world. That inspires me. That’s who I want to be too.

I hope we elect an 81-year-old as our President this time because I think he’s the best person for the job. The 77-year-old alternative candidate is a disaster, but not because of his age. I hope to work another 20+ years and I hope it remains as challenging and thrilling as it has been for the past 20+ years. I work to stay healthy and fit because I’m excited for what’s ahead - I want to show up for it in every way. I’ll proudly and happily tell anyone I meet how old I am, and I’ll make no effort (other than staying healthy, fit, and engaged) to conceal my age. I’ve earned my grey hair, and frankly I’m grateful to even have a head of hair at this point. I’m happily married and I don’t have any reason to indulge vanity for vanity’s sake. From here on out it’ll be about family, community, serving creative people, and working every day to be better in every way I can - and to keep making connections with people of all ages and generations.

1. What do I want to be able to do in my 80s? Live independently. Walk the dog. Walk anywhere I want to go. Run a 5K. Play with my grandchildren or even great-grandchildren on the floor, and get myself up. Go on a 5+ mile hike. Drive all day to see a friend or relative. Attend a concert outdoor music festival that requires me to stand for hours. Carry my groceries home on foot. Tie my own shoes. Get in the mosh pit (OK maybe I’m already done with that - but I can dream)… there are exercised for all of this. I’ve given up training to beat my PR at races in favor of a diverse, measured approach that will keep my body useful for many years to come. I want to do all these things and so many more! I went to the gym with my dad last year and he is very slow and methodical about his routine - but he goes several times a week.