EIGHTY-TWO IS NOT A CURTAIN CALL.

I’m getting close to 82. There. I said it out loud without whispering.

For some reason, once you pass 80, people start speaking to you as if you’re made of antique glass. “Take it easy.” “Don’t overdo it.” “You’ve earned your rest.” I appreciate the concern, but I’m not a museum piece. I’m still under construction.

What I’ve come to realize...and it didn’t hit me all at once...is that staying active in what I love isn’t about ego. It’s about oxygen. Acting still wakes me up in the morning. It still gives me that nervous flutter before an audition or a shoot. At 82, you’d think I’d be over that. Nope. Still there. And I’m grateful for it. Nerves mean I care. Caring means I’m alive.

Now don’t get me wrong. My family is everything to me. Being a father, grandfather, and now great-grandfather is one of the great privileges of my life. I treasure those roles more than any character I’ve ever played.

But here’s something we don’t talk about enough: love and purpose are not the same thing. There’s something about stepping into someone else’s shoes… learning lines, discovering motivations, finding truth in a scene that keeps my mind sharp and my spirit lit. It demands discipline. It demands vulnerability. It demands that I keep growing.

When I’m working on a role, I’m not “an 81-year-old man.” I’m just an actor solving a problem. How does this man think? Why does he hesitate? What is he hiding? That curiosity keeps me moving forward instead of looking backward.

I’ve seen too many people quietly retire from the things that once made them come alive. And after a while, something dims. Not all at once. Just gradually. The spark fades. The days start blending together. I don’t want that. I want to keep memorizing. Keep auditioning. Keep occasionally forgetting a line and recovering with whatever dignity I can muster. I want to keep showing up…not because I need applause, but because I need purpose.

Getting older has given me perspective. I don’t chase things the way I used to. I don’t worry about proving myself. I just want to do good work. Work that reminds me, and maybe someone watching, that life doesn’t shrink just because the calendar pages turn.

So yes, I’m nearing 82. But I’m not winding down. As long as I can stand on my own two feet, hit a mark, remember (most of) my lines, and feel that little flutter before “Action,” I’ll keep doing what I love.

Because staying active isn’t about staying busy. It’s about staying alive.

One day my great-grandson will be old enough to understand that the white-haired fellow in the family photos didn’t quietly fade into a recliner. I hope he sees that growing older doesn’t mean growing smaller. That passion doesn’t have an expiration date. That purpose is something you keep choosing.

If he learns anything from me, I hope it’s this: Find the thing that makes you feel useful. Find the thing that makes you stretch. And hold onto it for as long as you can.

Eighty-two isn’t a curtain call. It’s just another entrance.

ACTORS: PAY ATTENTION — H.R. 721 IS THE ROLE WE ALL NEED CAST. (Public Service Announcement from an 81-year-old actor who’s been paying 1986-level taxes since 1986)

Actors, let me grab your attention for a moment. Yes, even you — the one balancing your phone on a stack of books to tape yet another scene where you play “Person Who Didn’t Book the Role.” I want to talk about H.R. 721, the Performing Artist Tax Parity Act, which is basically the closest thing we’ve had to financial oxygen in decades. And yet somehow, most actors don’t even know it exists.

Right now, the federal government believes that if you earn more than sixteen thousand dollars a year — yes, sixteen thousand — you’re too wealthy to qualify for the Qualified Performing Artist tax deduction. That number was set in 1986. I was 41 then. Gas was cheap, headshots were cheap, and I still had functioning knees. Meanwhile, everything in our industry has skyrocketed in cost except the one deduction designed to help working actors survive.

Enter H.R. 721, which finally proposes raising that absurd income cap to $100,000 for individuals and $200,000 for couples. In other words, it drags the tax code out of the Reagan years and into something that resembles the economy we’re actually living in. It even acknowledges that agent and manager commissions are legitimate business expenses — you know, the way everyone else has already acknowledged them.

Now, this is the part that should irritate you. This bill has been introduced over and over, like an actor who keeps showing up for the same audition and keeps getting told, “Thanks, we’ll be in touch.” It showed up in 2019. Dead. Reappeared in 2021. Dead. Tried again in 2023. Dead. Same story in 2024. And here we are with the 2025 version, currently sitting in committee like an unpaid extra waiting twelve hours for a director who doesn’t know their name.

Why does this happen? Because Congress doesn’t pass bills just because they’re good ideas. They pass bills when enough people make noise. And actors, for all our gifts — we can cry on cue, fall down a staircase dramatically, and express heartbreak in a single closeup — somehow lose our voices when it comes to advocating for ourselves. We wait for “someone else” to handle it. And that’s exactly how nothing gets done.

If we let this bill die again, we can’t blame Congress alone. We’ll have to blame ourselves for being too quiet when it mattered.

And let’s be clear: this bill isn’t about politics. It’s about survival. If you spend money on headshots, classes, agents, managers, wardrobe, mileage, self-tape equipment, union dues, or the therapy you probably need after your last 23 auditions… then H.R. 721 affects you directly. Not the celebrities. Not the Marvel leads. You — the working actor who keeps the entertainment world turning while juggling day jobs and memorizing sides at midnight.

So here’s my message as your friendly 81-year-old actor who’s been around this block more times than I can count: this bill matters. It’s overdue. And if we want real change, we have to stop assuming someone else will fight for us. Actors are loud when it comes to roles — now we need to be loud about legislation that actually impacts our paychecks. Because if we don’t advocate for ourselves, no one else will. And we’ll be sitting here again next year, reintroducing the exact same bill and wondering why nothing ever changes.

THOUGHTS ON BEING AN 81 YEAR-OLD ACTOR...OR JUST BEING 81.

I’ve had a few months to think about what it was like turning 80, and suddenly I'm 81...so here goes.

I dreaded turning 80. Being 79 is much easier to accept. After all, you’re still in your 70s. However, you realize that while turning 80 does have its own challenges, it can be a very positive time in life.

I have lived through many ups and downs...through tragic events, and through some very difficult times. It has made me resilient to what life throws at me today. I have learned to accept what is and to accept that we are not immune to the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.

Yes, the body has slowed down, but my mind is still sharp. I still enjoy many of the same things I have loved throughout my entire life and still get to enjoy even more. My wife and I still love to travel and have more time to enjoy it. I’m not tied down to a schedule because of a job or the kid’s school.

My family has grown, and I recently became a great grandfather to a beautiful little boy. I treasure the time I spend with my beautiful family. I get to watch my children and grandchildren grow into the amazing people they are today.

While other people desire to never have to work again, I love my profession as an actor. The difference being that I do not consider the vocation of an actor as work. While it is not an easy job, it certainly is fun and energizing for me.

Of course, there are downsides to being an octogenarian. People look at us differently. Some may consider us a burden to society and that we are just sitting around watching TV and waiting for the arrival of the Grim Reaper. Rather than being the same person, some feel that we are to be just tolerated and not to be a source of wisdom due to our life experiences. The truth for me is that I consider it a gift to have lived this long and still able to enjoy life; to enjoy good health and a super family. I find it invigorating to walk the trails in the wetlands near our apartment and spend time in the gym staying fit.

Another downside is the reality of the profession I love. Ageism is alive and well in the acting business. It is a reality that I do not like nor accept, but a reality, nevertheless. As a result, I enjoy every opportunity I get as an actor, whether it’s a student film or major studio production.

Rather than forgetting the elderly actors, I would think that we would be considered a valuable source since we have lived the lives of many of the characters in film and can really be, as Sanford Meisner states, truthful in imaginary circumstances. With all the Boomers still around, one would think more films or TV shows would be made something akin to the old sitcom, “Golden Girls” or films like "Cocoon" and "Grumpy Old Men".

By the way, sometimes someone will attempt to insult me by referring to me as a “Boomer”. What they don’t realize is that I consider it a compliment because I am not a Boomer. I am from the Silent Generation...the one that preceded. So there, you whippersnappers!

Some people expect that at my age, I would join a Senior Center to hang out with other people my age. I do not. Not to offend those my age, but I cannot sit around talking about Medicare, Social Security, and arthritis. I have all three, but they are not my favorite topics of conversation. I prefer the company of people younger. By younger, I don’t always mean people in their 60s and 70s. My favorite people to be with are my children and grandchildren and I have enjoyed hanging around others a half century younger. Unfortunately, many young people think it's not "cool" to socialize with an old person.

Please don’t get me wrong. I have been around people older than me who are, to use the vernacular, an absolute hoot. I have met these people when my wife and I have taken many cruises. Being around people our age who share our enthusiasm for life is another gift. I wish there were more like them.

Another gift I have about growing older is not to worry about expressing how I feel. I do, as the idiom states, wear my heart on my sleeve at times and I don’t give a tinker’s damn. I get that emotion at times around my family. As an example, I experienced much emotion when I met my little great grandson for the first time. Last year, I had the privilege of witnessing my granddaughter being commissioned an Army Second Lieutenant and my eyes were very wet as well. Recently, I welcomed a new grandson when granddaughter #3 was married. My wife and I are truly blessed!

That’s it. I know this writing may seem a bit convoluted, but I don’t care. I will check for grammatical errors, but I certainly will not run it through some damn AI generator to make it appear more like I’m a professional writer. Another idiom I'll use is, what you see is what you get.

Now, if you will excuse me, I will go back to having fun.