At 75, Rachel McAlpine got a rather “rude awakening” that she was only three-quarters of the way through her life.
Her GP had predicted – after a lengthy health questionnaire was filled in – that the New Zealand author would probably live to 99.
“I even tried to lie and say I had taken up smoking, but that only brought it down to 98,” she laughs, while chatting to the Weekly from her Wellington apartment.
“I was shocked to the core – which sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? It made me realise I had classic ageism. I was against old age. I equated it with despair and I didn’t want to think about what my life – or my body – would look like in my nineties.
“We don’t realise that we are future old people, but that day triggered my curiosity about it.”
Galvanised to learn more, Rachel interviewed 12 local people aged between 90 and 101 who were willing to talk about their lives. Their revelations challenged all her preconceived ideas.
While out walking in Wellington, she also stopped random pedestrians to ask how they saw their life unfolding at 90.
“This then inspired my new play The Secret Lives of Extremely Old People, which was written from those conversations, and I turned their answers into fictionalised characters,” shares the now 83-year-old, who is the author of 30 books, has produced podcasts about ageing and, in celebration of her then-80th birthday, published a collection of her poems called How to Be Old.
On stage, the play follows five nonagenarians who share fascinating stories and insights in a touching and humorous evocation of old age. The “age-diverse” cast includes beloved veteran Kiwi actor Lloyd Scott, 83, who is famous for being Barry Crump’s sidekick Scotty in the Toyota television ads filmed during the 1980s and ’90s.
“Lloyd plays 93-year-old Tom and is the oldest one in the cast. He gives a beautiful performance in the play. Audience members will love his character and all the different layers of his life.”
Rachel says a lot of her script is verbatim from what her interviewees revealed in their in-depth conversations.
“They told me all the sad things from their lives, as well as the funnier moments. They talked about a huge number of topics, including sex – although they didn’t talk about sex a lot because that generation doesn’t like to spill their guts! However, they were happy to talk about love. One of the 95-year-olds had even just fallen in love.”
She adds that what each nonagenarian had in common (besides looming health issues) was that they felt “overwhelmingly lucky” and grateful for the small things in life – conversations with their children or cuddling a pet.
“That’s not what you think when you look at a little old lady or man having trouble walking, is it? Yet each was a positive-minded ‘people person’ who said they were surprised to wake up each morning, but it also made them feel happy when they did!
“One of the ladies said, on the whole, she was glad to be alive but not opposed to dying either. So I thought that was a very good way to be.
“Another one said, ‘When I think about it, at 90 you’re a survivor. Yes, you might have good genes and better knowledge about diet and lifestyle, but you’ve also survived all the things!'”
A common theme was that they all still wanted to be engaged with the world. It’s something that resonates with the talented playwright too.
Rachel – who sings in the Capital Choir, goes to the community fitness centre each day and swims at Oriental Bay year-round – admits she’s never without a project. They’re all crucial components to her living her best life in later years.
“If it’s not this play, there will be something else. I’m not happy if I haven’t got a project. Everybody tells you when you retire from working life to get a hobby and they’re absolutely right.
“I think it’s nice if you can contribute to the world or still be helping people because I don’t like the idea of just relaxing for 35 years!”
Born in Fairlie, Rachel is an Anglican vicar’s daughter who grew up with her five sisters in small-town vicarages in Canterbury. Her great-grandmother was notable New Zealand suffragette Ada Well.
“As a vicar’s daughter and former Brownie [Girl Guide], there’s a little bit of ‘I’ve got to do a good turn’ in me,” she smiles.
“I want people seeing my play to open up their ideas on ageing – which they might not never know they have a bias to – like I did! I want them to feel happier about their own future extremely old selves.”
Quick fire questions
What’s the quirkiest answer you got when asking strangers to imagine their life at 95?
One woman, who was 35, said she saw herself living alone in a farmhouse and roaming the fields as “high as balls”! I also asked my 11-year-old grandson and he replied, “I think I’ll have a lot of ‘not working’ things like your hip and eyesight, Nana, but I think I’ll have a lot of time to relax.”
Who are your “old age” role models?
Doris Carnevali, a sturdy 101-year-old from Seattle, who writes a blog called Engaging with Aging and my grandmother Mim. Her approach to problems was asking, “Does it really matter?” and “Is it funny?”
Can you share a story of ageism within your family?
Well, when my daughter Penny was four, she used to go to Mim’s house after kindergarten, and when Mim was doing the hoovering, she would pick Penny up and pop her on the tea trolley so she wouldn’t be in the way. Penny was so furious at her for doing this that one day she said, “You are an extremely old woman and you look it!” Mim thought that was hilarious and was probably only aged about 70 at the time.
The Secret Lives of Extremely Old People is being performed at Circa Theatre until December 17. For tickets, see circa.co.nz