Aging gets a ribbing in Kim Russell’s ‘Life After 50’ at local library

Jokes tell truths.

Say, this one from Billy Crystal, about a no-longer-young man who awakens one morning in a body no longer supple.

"Oy," he says, chagrined. "I'm making my father's noise."

Welcome to life on the other side of the divide -- the 50-plus side.

"There's an art to growing old," says Kim Russell, who, at four years past the dividing line, is qualified to star in the one-woman "Life After 50: Survivalist Training Required," tonight at the West Charleston Library.

How about we call it growing "older," rather than, you know, "old"?

"I'm all for medication now," says Russell, who, in a tone of sardonic cheerfulness, isn't one to duck the inevitabilities of aging. "I look at medication as a form of daily activity. I wasn't so keen on it before, but I've come to the realization that drugs are our friend."

Her original play, which she performs anew after staging it last year at the Reed Whipple Cultural Center, is an amalgam of observations, advice and gags about life changes that aging inflicts. "For the most part, it's a monologue, an ode to getting old, and there's a sing-along or two," says Russell, a writer-producer-historian who is also the education program coordinator for the Smith Center for the Performing Arts.

"This is an interactive show, it does require the audience and I to have similar memories, which means anybody under 35 could just stay home." Infrequently do performers encourage any segment of an audience to skip their shows, but Russell is addressing people who don't require that certain cultural touchstones be explained.

"I have to reference Ed Sullivan," she says. "How can you be this age and not remember Topo Gigio and 'My Name, Jose Jimenez'?"

And yes, if we must point out that Topo was the Italian mouse puppet that exhorted "Eddeeee" to "keesa me goo'night!" and Jose was Bill Dana's befuddled Mexican character -- and especially, if you weren't glued to your black and white TV set as the Beatles debuted on Sullivan's show or watched, astonished, as a grainy Neil Armstrong stepped onto the ghostly lunar landscape -- you're not the desired demographic.

That's cool with the woman who booked Russell. "She's authentic, she says it like it is, she's her honest self," says Firouzeh Forouzmand, performing arts center coordinator for the West Charleston Library. "She wants people to get something out of it and people feel like they can connect with her."

Confronting expectations of aging, Russell says, is key to coping with it. "It's a decision you have to make," she says. "Are you going to try and recapture your youth, suddenly throw off all of your norms, buy a motorcycle, let your hair grow long and gray? Or are you capable of taking it by the horns and really making something out of growing old? This program is my attempt to make something out of it."

Yet for all the serious life smarts she imparts, many are wrapped in punch lines about being caught between generations:

■ Children: "It's important how you treat your children. They do choose your retirement home."

■ Parents: "There are parallel vibes because as we get old, so do our parents. You want to see who is going to be in the old-age home first, you or your parents."

■ The American Association of Retired Persons (AARP): "They're like a little cricket that sits there every step of your life, saying, 'I'm gonna get you sooner or laaaater.' "

Any other words of gerontological wisdom?

"You really should plan for oxygen to be your best friend," she quips. "There should be a bank for oxygen you can put money into now so when it's your turn to get oxygen, you can get your fair share. The casinos really should have built-in oxygen tanks by the slot machines."

Some of us would be content never to make our fathers' noise.

Contact reporter Steve Bornfeld at sbornfeld@ reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0256.