This is 57: Ayun Halliday Responds to The Oldster Magazine Questionnaire
"I dress like a ragamuffin, dance around, and make zines….and yet, I know I must seem impossibly old to friends in their 20s and 30s."
From the time I was 10, I’ve been obsessed with what it means to grow older. I’m curious about what it means to others, of all ages, and so I invite them to take “The Oldster Magazine Questionnaire.”
Here, performer, playwright, author, illustrator, and award-winning zine maker Ayun Halliday responds. - Sari Botton
How old are you?
57
Is there another age you associate with yourself in your mind? If so, what is it? And why, do you think?
29. It’s my lucky number, and without going so far as to actually do the math, it’s a plausible average of my other formative ages. It’s also close to the halfway point of my life thus far.
A lot of what makes me me had already been experienced by 29—childhood, of course, theater school, massage school, the low budget travels recalled in No Touch Monkey, Chicago, my work with the NeoFuturists, a bunch of crummy day jobs…I had been with Greg for a few years, but we weren’t yet married.
On the flip side, so much of what makes me me had not yet been experienced by 29—New York City, motherhood, my zine, my writing career…the internet!
Do you feel old for your age? Young for your age? Just right? Are you in step with your peers?
I am more grasshopper than ant, which makes for a certain youthful illusion. I dress like a ragamuffin, dance around, and make zines….and yet, I know I must seem impossibly old to friends in their 20s and 30s. Sometimes I seem impossibly old to myself.
A lot of what makes me me had already been experienced by 29—childhood, of course, theater school, massage school, the low budget travels recalled in No Touch Monkey, Chicago, my work with the NeoFuturists, a bunch of crummy day jobs…I had been with Greg for a few years, but we weren’t yet married.
What do you like about being your age?
I like the idea that I’m more emotionally, if not intellectually intelligent, and hopefully, I’m more compassionate, or at least less quick to sit in judgment. I’m inclined to consider things from others’ point of view, realizing that their beliefs are informed by their experience, just as mine are by mine.
What is difficult about being your age?
How many parts I’m too old to play.
What I look like on camera.
Doing the math and realizing that my time on earth is dwindling, and soon, my friends and I will be in that group where everybody starts dying.
That there are books I won’t read, or reread. Countries I won’t visit or revisit.
The deep grooves that make the lower half of my face look like a marionette’s…I know it’s born of a lifetime of smiling but still…
Forgetting things…
What is surprising about being your age, or different from what you expected, based on what you were told?
I don’t feel as invisible as I was led to believe…I’ve always tended to smile at and engage with strangers, so maybe I’m forcing their hands. It does feel like a losing battle when it comes to securing mainstream attention for my work. Oldster is interested in a way that the New Yorker and the New York Times just aren’t (thusfar!) Maybe this is less a function of age as the fact that I’ve been leaping around while others have dutifully stuck to one furrow, cultivating relationships and an audience.
What has aging given you? Taken away from you?
It’s connected me to more people, afforded me a wider breadth of experience, and a scratched up leather couch where once there was a futon on the floor.
My father and step-father are dead, and my mother has dementia, but that’s far from an uncommon story at my age. So I guess aging has given me more shared experiences with my fellow humans.
I have been pretty lucky in life. This isn’t really an aging thing, though I guess statistically, the further out from your children’s births you get, the greater the likelihood that you’ll know people who have outlived their children. I frequently think of my mother-friends whose kids have died, and use their collective experience to keep my own troubles, and the way I speak about them, in perspective. This also works on a global level. Compared to people in Kharkiv and Lviv, I’ve got nothing to bitch about it, just ways in which I could do better.
I’ve had to wrap my head around the idea that the dime has dropped for certain opportunities. I don’t get to ride the rollercoaster over and over…the attendant is already flipping the safety bars up and directing me toward the exit. It’s someone else’s turn.
How has getting older affected your sense of yourself, or your identity?
I still think of myself as an emerging artist because I want those sorts of opportunities and it hasn’t yet sunk in that maybe I’m not supposed to be sweeping the stage and thrifting costumes when I’m also in the play.
Unfortunately for me, the gatekeepers and keyholders do tend to define these things in terms of numbers.
I’ve had to wrap my head around the idea that the dime has dropped for certain opportunities. I don’t get to ride the rollercoaster over and over…the attendant is already flipping the safety bars up and directing me toward the exit. It’s someone else’s turn. I don’t like it, but will grudgingly admit that it’s not exactly unfair.
I’m coming to realize that my latest book Creative, Not Famous: The Small Potato Manifesto may be a way of prolonging my turn while helping others aboard. It seems that a lot of people feel left out, especially as they get older. I want everyone, myself included, to feel welcome. That’s really all I’ve ever really wanted.
If that’s what the next decade or two or three is about— making people feel like they have a creative stake, even if they haven’t received much recognition or encouragement, then I am fulfilled. If I’ve done something that inspires them to cultivate community, my time and talents have not been wasted.
What are some age-related milestones you are looking forward to? Or ones you “missed,” and might try to reach later, off-schedule, according to our culture and its expectations?
I like the idea of my family expanding, and hopefully remaining central within it.
And the second I’m eligible, I’m gonna be on top of those senior citizen discounts like a duck on a junebug!
I started putting on eye makeup…something I haven’t done regularly since high school. It’s my version of a facelift, I guess. I’m still kind of embarrassed when my husband comes into the bathroom and catches me with my mascara wand in hand. Like he’s caught me giving myself a Brazilian or some such.
What has been your favorite age so far, and why? Would you go back to this age if you could?
Good lord, that’s a toughie, because if I dip below 30, it cancels the husband and kids.
I did love the communal setting of college—everybody living in proximity to each other, taking many of the same classes, up in each other’s business, not beholden to work and family schedules.
That was also somewhat true of my mid-to-late 20s, after we opened the Neo-Futurarium (now rebranded as the Neo-Futurist Theater, alas.) It was fun to be part of a “thing” without having to be solely responsible for it.
Sure, I’d go back, but I wouldn’t want to get trapped there, y’know? Do I bring a 21st century understanding of consent, false binaries, and Black Lives Matter with me? Is it on me to alert the city of Chicago, nay, the entire world, to the dire nature of climate change via letters to the editor and wheat pasted flyers? I may need a better understanding of the ground rules.
Is there someone who is older than you, who makes growing older inspiring to you? Who is your aging idol and why?
Elizabeth Sweetheart, aka the Green Lady of Brooklyn. She’s an artist who dresses entirely in green, has green hair, and has decorated her home near exclusively in green. What a way to ensure that she will continue to be seen. She definitely has this lucky clover quality. There’s so much joy attached to the Green Lady of Brooklyn. Selfie culture, Instagram, and an early appearance on Humans of New York conspired to make her into a celebrity of the most endearing type. She’s back to where she was before the pandemic, out and about in NYC. I love the language she uses when sharing the selfies strangers ask her for in the subway, the grocery, or the post office: “So happy to have to met this wonderful young person!” “Got to spend some time with these two lovely young people.”
She’s a force for good in the world, who’s doing us all a solid by presenting such a playful, curious face to a public of all ages.
I also notice that she always sports a fuzzy green boa or neckband, and wonder if it’s because she’s not fond of her 81-year-old neck’s appearance. If so, I love this little bit of vanity, this small act of resistance.
I also want to give a shout out to Wanji and Sho-er, married octogenarian laundromat owners in Taiwan, who have been collaborating with their grandson on a photography project wherein they get duded up in clothing customers have abandoned. I think this is a case of mojo refound.
I hate to say it, but the obituaries can be a great source for discovering inspiring women, of a certain vintage, like Cynthia Plaster Caster or vocal teacher Barbara Maier Gustern. They no longer walk amongst us, but should be celebrated as excellent poster children for maintaining a curious spirit, friends of all ages, and the strong impulse to engage.
What aging-related adjustments have you recently made, style-wise, beauty-wise, health-wise?
I don’t buy much, unless I’m replacing something that’s worn out or broken. (I just managed to split my favorite britches, so, after posting a photo of the wreckage for all to admire, I guess I’m in the market for a new pair.)
I dropped close to 40 pounds a year ago, but that wasn’t so much an age related adjustment as pandemic sourdough vs. my entire wardrobe. My lighter bod definitely helps me move a bit more nimbly. I wish I could say it gives me more energy, but chronic secondary insomnia gobbles up any benefits in that department. I do, however, get a nice boost when I catch my reflection in the store windows as I strut the 30 blocks down to the library where I write. Dig those skinny jeans with big ol’ clunky boots!
If someone in their twenties or thirties has never heard of Gilda Radner or George W. Bush is the first president they remember, you’ll never catch me saying, “I’m old” in that sad trombone way that’s meant to sound humorous, but can only come off as pathetic.
Semi-related, I started putting on eye makeup…something I haven’t done regularly since high school. It’s my version of a facelift, I guess. I’m still kind of embarrassed when my husband comes into the bathroom and catches me with my mascara wand in hand. Like he’s caught me giving myself a Brazilian or some such.
What’s an aging-related adjustment you refuse to make, and why?
If someone in their twenties or thirties has never heard of Gilda Radner or George W. Bush is the first president they remember, you’ll never catch me saying, “I’m old” in that sad trombone way that’s meant to sound humorous, but can only come off as pathetic. Ageism does not need an assist from me. It gets plenty of help from practically every other quarter.
People are born when they’re born! Our cultural reference points don’t have total overlap. What’s the big deal?
What I’m trying to do instead is cultivate an actual interest in young people’s lives…not via articles that say “everyone in Gen Z thinks this,” but rather through one-on-one conversations wherein I try my best to listen as much if not more than I talk. Word has it this might make them a little bit more interested in me.
What’s your philosophy on celebrating birthdays as an adult? How do you celebrate yours?
I love my birthday and always seek to do something special, to spend part of it with friends. My 55th birthday was just two-and-a-half weeks into the pandemic shutdown and the day itself was a major bummer, but the day after was great! I had invited a bunch of friends to film themselves doing (or attempting to do) The Madison, a 60s line dance that figures in the movie Hairspray, and get the results to me by my birthday. I spent the next day laboriously editing them together into a monster cut. What a wonderful collaborative present! I still watch it. The next year we tackled Slow Bird, and this year, it’s Jack White’s cover of “I’m Shakin’,” though I’m woefully behind on the edits. I hope to keep this tradition going. I hope we’re still doing it well into my 80s.
I love Ayun Halliday! And I'm so glad you dress like a ragamuffin. My winter wardrobe is layers and layers, kind of like if I'm ever homeless, I'm ready. I have everything on. Nothing matches and most things started out as someone else's. It would be so nice to have a grown up apartment if someone else took the effort, but my place is still decorated in "early first apartment," even though it's far from the first apartment. Nothing matches, and that's comfortable. Love love love the birthday video. So fun.
Love the subtitle The Small Potato Manifesto. Thinking about a sequel, The Mashed Potato Manifesto.