This is (Almost) 62: Filmmaker David Licata Responds to The Oldster Magazine Questionnaire
"Before 2020, I felt about 40 years old. But the pandemic did a number on me and now I feel about my age."
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, author filmmaker David Licata responds. -Sari Botton
David Licata is a filmmaker and writer. His latest documentary film, A Life’s Work, is distributed by First Run Features and streaming on Amazon, Apple TV and other outlets. His film Tango Octogenario screened at film festivals around the world, including New Films/New Directors, a showcase curated by the Museum of Modern Art and the Film Society of Lincoln Center. His fiction and nonfiction have appeared in numerous literary journals and two anthologies, including Two Countries: Daughters and Sons of Immigrant Parents (Red Hen Press).
How old are you?
I’ll be 62 in August.
Is there another age you associate with yourself in your mind? If so, what is it? And why, do you think?
I used to joke—sorta—that I was actually a12-year-old boy. And sometimes this is true—I enjoy many forms of entertainment that seem made for pre-adolescent and barely adolescent boys. Marvel, Star Wars, I’m there. But sometimes I feel like a 150-year-old man from the past who visits artist’s studios, prefers to walk without a steady stream of words or music being pumped directly into my ears, and wishes salons and Tower Records still existed.
Do you feel old for your age? Young for your age? Just right? Are you in step with your peers?
Before 2020, I felt about 40 years old. But the pandemic did a number on me and now I feel about my age. A lot of this has to do with the dramatic drop in how physically active I have been since COVID. I haven’t gotten back into the groove I was in before March 2020, doing yoga, riding my bike everywhere, going for loooong walks.
Many of my peers have children, grandchildren, mortgages to pay, parents to look after. I don’t have any of those things, and that has me feeling, as of this writing, a bit more carefree—which I’m associating right now with a youthful feeling.
I used to joke—sorta—that I was actually a12-year-old boy. And sometimes this is true—I enjoy many forms of entertainment that seem made for pre-adolescent and barely adolescent boys. Marvel, Star Wars, I’m there.
What do you like about being your age?
It has become easier to say “no,” and that is very welcome. If an acquaintance asks me to contribute something that will take up my time and not yield much of a benefit to my mental well-being or financial well-being or career well-being, I now say no without feeling guilty and without worrying that I’m being a bad friend. I’m not a jerk about it, though. There are many ways to politely say no.
What is difficult about being your age?
Being aware that my time and energy are not infinite.
I tend to be envious of young people who are up and coming. I had a co-worker, someone I consider a good friend, she’s 31 or 32. She’s smart and talented and beautiful and is constantly traveling and working on films, her own, her partner’s, and her friends’. Her father left her an apartment in Athens, Greece and she just finished getting a master degree in filmmaking from a school in London. And I look at her and I see so many doors open to her right now, and she is prepared to walk through them all. And I am green with envy because when I was her age I was barely prepared to walk into an apartment of my own, and at my age now I am very aware that many of the doors that are open to her are no longer open to me.
That’s been on my mind a lot lately.
What is surprising about being your age, or different from what you expected, based on what you were told?
I’ve always been a relatively fit and healthy person; I didn’t expect to see so many different medical specialists. In the last few years, I’ve had to see a hand and wrist specialist for trigger thumb (surgery required), a podiatrist for foot pain I was experiencing (a shot of ????), a sleep specialist for my sleep apnea (CPAP machine prescribed and abandoned).
I also never thought I’d have to take Lipitor, but that’s where I’m at.
What has aging given you? Taken away from you?
When I was in my 30s, I was certain about many things, confident. Maybe cocky, even. If someone had made a suggestion about my work, I would dismiss it and think the person was clueless. How could they not see that my point of view was the point of view. Aging has taken that certainty away from me, and sometimes I miss it. Sometimes I miss that unwavering confidence.
But most of the time I don’t. Aging has made me more open to possibilities, that’s the flip side of what was taken away. Nothing is black or white, yes or no. I find myself responding to questions with, “Well, yes and no…” A lot.
Sometimes I feel like a 150-year-old man from the past who visits artist’s studios, prefers to walk without a steady stream of words or music being pumped directly into my ears, and wishes salons and Tower Records still existed.
How has getting older affected your sense of yourself, or your identity?
I sometimes feel invisible and unappreciated, and a lot of this probably has to do with my own insecurities. But I believe if I went on a job interview tomorrow, and I was competing against someone who was 33, with everything else being equal, the 33-year-old would get the job.
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’m a bit of a space geek. I was 8 years old when Neil Armstrong walked on the moon and I look forward to watching the first human walk on Mars.
That’s not really an answer to the question, but it is a milestone for humanity I’m looking forward to witnessing.
What has been your favorite age so far, and why? Would you go back to this age if you could?
My early 40s. I was in a couple of relationships that, though they didn’t work out in the “forever” sense, were transformative nonetheless.
I was writing a lot and my work was beginning to be published. Ironically, my ambition to conquer the world abated quite a bit. I no longer felt, as I did in my early 30s, that I had to make three feature films and finish my short story collection by the time I was 39. I became accepting of the fact that as artists, we’re all on different timelines and we all have different levels of productivity. A friend of mine once said to me (we were both in our 30 at the time), “Vermeer painted, what, less than 50 paintings, and Picasso painted more than 10,000. That doesn’t make Vermeer any less of an artist than Picasso.” It’s something I remind myself when I look back at my output as an artist.
And both of my parents were still alive.
Is there someone who is older than you, who makes growing older inspiring to you? Who is your aging idol and why?
In 2005 I made a film, Tango Octogenario. It’s a hybrid fiction-nonfiction film about a couple of tango aficionados who reconnect through dance. The stars were non-actors, Jean and Alex Turney, who were in fact a couple of tango aficionados in their 80s. My parents were not great role models when it came to aging, but the Turney’s were. They were legends in the New York City tango community and would go to milongas, which last until the early morning hours, and dance until they club closed down. They were vibrant and enjoyed life, traveling to Argentina to take lessons from dance masters. They were aware of their age, of their aching feet, of their inability to perform ganchos as crisply as they once had, but they weren’t embarrassed or ashamed by that, it didn’t stop them from going on to the dance floor every chance they had.
The film garnered a fair amount of attention, for a short film, and Alex and Jean were the main reason for that. They attended all the film festivals they could and initiated screenings at various places. They never lost their enthusiasm for their role in this little film and enjoyed the attention it brought them.
Unfortunately, Alex and Jean both passed several years ago, but their spirit is something I try to summon.
What aging-related adjustments have you recently made, style-wise, beauty-wise, health-wise?
My shoes must be extremely comfortable with high arches and wide at the balls of my feet. New Balances are great for walks or hikes or when I know I’m going to be standing a lot. Unfortunately, I can no longer wear Converse and Vans.
I had a fondness for sweater vests with patterns on them, and I wore them over plaid flannel shirts, and often it looked like I dressed in the dark because the vest and shirt clashed. I don’t seem to wear sweater vests much anymore; maybe it’s due to climate change or a shift in style, who knows.
I think I’m more attuned to what my body can and cannot do, when I can push myself and when I need to stop. I went surfing for the first time in 2022—it was something I’ve always wanted to do. I knew enough to take lessons, and when the Atlantic Ocean absolutely kicked my ass, I knew when to sit on the beach and take breather. I finished the lesson a few minutes early because I was completely exhausted, and have no regrets about that.
Many of my peers have children, grandchildren, mortgages to pay, parents to look after. I don’t have any of those things, and that has me feeling, as of this writing, a bit more carefree—which I’m associating right now with a youthful feeling.
What’s an aging-related adjustment you refuse to make, and why?
I refuse to deny myself dessert.
What’s your philosophy on celebrating birthdays as an adult? How do you celebrate yours?
I think I began to dislike my birthday when my parents moved my family, when I was 12, and I had no friends for a couple of years. And by the time I made friends, I was a gloomy teenager and viewed aging as a gradual loss of freedom, and of course, as a countdown to the big inevitable. My brothers both married at 20, and they had all this adult stuff to do and I wanted no part of it. Neil Young’s “Sugar Mountain” was in the forefront of my brain, and turning 20 was a depressing affair.
One thing I did enjoy about my birthday as I got older was that every year my favorite aunt would send me a card with a check in it for $25. She was Italian and she would write “Per una pizza e una birra per il tuo compleanno!” (For a pizza and a beer on your birthday!). Those checks long ago stopped showing up in my mailbox, but I still like to have pizza and beer on my birthday.
Oh, the mere mention of Tower Records gives me nostalgia. I remember how it was one of the few places I could drive to in DC without needing a map and directions! Ah, life before smartphones and navigation systems!
Love these conversations so much. It makes me feel like I’m in such good company (turning 58 in a little over a month but in my head I’m barely 30!).
I refuse to deny myself desert. 💪🏻