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As a woman in my mid-80s, I have seen it all, been part of it all and I’m still here. The 1960s meant the Vietnam War, the Civil Rights Movement, The Beatles, Woodstock and marriage.
At 25, I met Benni, a young Danish filmmaker, on a blind date. We get married two months later because he needed a Green Card. My friends warned me that marrying a total stranger was insane. We are still together, 60 years later.
I suffered through devastating postpartum blues after the birth of our son, but after months of terrifying anxiety, I ended up being the world’s best mother to the world’s best son. The 60s also meant spending time in Denmark. In spite of the miserable climate and impossible language, this girl from the Bronx loved being in a strange new world with strange new customs, like eating smoked cod liver.
One day, I found a classic Swedish novel in the library, Doktor Glas, that Benni took on as a producer, and turned into his first feature film production.
In the 1970s came Roe vs. Wade, Watergate, Ms. Magazine and Jaws. In this decade, I was a stay-at-home mom on the Upper West Side of Manhattan who taught boring piano lessons. I did not contribute much to our income because I still believed that when a woman got married, she was supposed to be taken care of for the rest of her life. What an idiot I was!
On the other hand, my son always came home to a house with mommy in it, and that was surely a comfort to him. I have since learned that whatever decision you make in the mothering department, you will find something to regret later on. So you might as well just do what feels right at the time.
In the 1980s came AIDS, the fall of the Berlin Wall, the launch of the Internet, the assassination of John Lennon and the election of Ronald Reagan. Star Wars continued the trend of blockbuster movies that put me to sleep. I began taking acting classes and started getting small paychecks here and there — mostly through humiliating jobs as a film extra and insignificant bit roles on soap operas, as in getting to say: “The doctor will see you now.”
The 1990s brought the fall of the Soviet Union, the end of apartheid in South Africa, the reunification of Germany, the proliferation of the World Wide Web and an activation of my latent feminism.
We moved to Los Angeles, where, unlike my New York delis, the bagels have blueberries. I learned to drive, but never really got the hang of parallel parking. One day, I got my usual two lines on a new TV show. The show was Seinfeld and my two lines turned into the recurring character of Doris Klompus, which greatly boosted my career. I worked a little more often and started to get four lines instead of two. Things were looking up!
My husband Benni encouraged me to try creating my own material, so I added writing to my list of unprofitable talents. I exchanged my beloved electric typewriter for a computer, and created my first solo show, “Yenta Unplugged.”
Then came the 2000s, ushering in the rise of social media and cell phones, the unthinkable horror of 9/11 and the history-changing election of Barack Obama. I became a TV addict, binging on everything from The Sopranos to Modern Family to House Hunters International until the wee hours of the morning. Jonathan got married and the whole Danish family flew in to Los Angeles to attend the first Jewish wedding of their lives. The event was much too traditional for my taste, but I ended up in tears at some of those ancient rituals.
I started appearing in spoken-word shows as a storyteller. There were often six people onstage and five people in the audience. I got a book published, Bargain Junkie: Living the Good Life on the Cheap. I spent much of the advance on marketing and PR. which turned out to not be money well spent.
By 2010, our country was churning with the Sandy Hook school shooting, the Black Lives Matter and Me Too movements and growing awareness of catastrophic climate change. Our son and his wife adopt a baby, but I have zero interest in becoming a grandma. Fortunately, little Max turned out to be the best, the brightest and the most beautiful child in the history of the universe. He’s into Tae Kwon Do, he plays the flute in his school band, and he likes to make up silly rhymes with me.
Benni and I started selling rare books and vintage collectibles on eBay. It was a great way to augment our erratic income and I enjoyed spending every weekend treasure-hunting at yard sales and thrift stores, since shopping was and is my favorite form of meditation.
The treasured house we were renting was sold, and we were evicted. I had a major meltdown, but — with the help of a hypnotherapist — I learned to breathe again and we managed to find an even nicer home, in one of the few urban, walkable areas of central Los Angeles.
The 2020s unfolded with the pandemic, more school shootings and never-ending warfare all over the world. In the face of this global turmoil, my little life took a totally unexpected upturn.
In my 80s, I started sharing my thoughts on TikTok and I finally found that huge audience I’d always dreamed of — more than almost half a million followers. This led to the writing of The book of Annie: Humor, Heart and Chutzpah from an Accidental Influencer. I also led private storytelling workshops, and my TV and film jobs now include at least eight lines!
I wish I had been this busy when I was younger, but I’m grateful that I lived long enough to enjoy it now. Yes, I’m still here, and what I’m witnessing now are wildfires ravaging my city. We are safe, but tens of thousands of residents have lost everything, and my heart breaks for them.
As I move through my 80s, I must deal with the loss of friends and family, but I’m still full of gratitude that my life has been — and continues to be — full of love. That has been my main source of survival through all these decades, in addition to my ambition, my tenacity and my naive hope that somehow, things will improve. One thing is certain: It ain’t over till it’s over. And I am definitely not over.
Are any of you 80 or older? How does it feel? Let us know in the comments below.
Rami Niemi
Follow Article Topics: Healthy-Aging
