What Harry Macafee Taught Me About Aging

One of the hazards of working in a theatre company for young people is occasionally, as the only man on the staff, I’m called upon to fill a role onstage.  This spring I played the role of Mr. Macafee in Bye Bye Birdie.

 

Mr. Macafee, like me, is the father of a high school girl.  He also has a younger son, played in our cast by a young man who is the same age as my other daughter.  Mr. Macafee is a little set in his ways, a bit awkward, and somewhat out of touch with pop culture.   In other words, it’s a role I was born to play.

I was talking to a friend about my role and he mentioned he had also played Mr. Macafee when he was in high school.  Jason is much younger than I, so I don’t think he identified with the character in the same way I do.  He described how he put gray in his hair, wore old man glasses, and padded his belly.  To him, Harry Macafee was an old geezer. 

Now to be honest, I often joke about being old, but I’ve never really meant it, despite the fact that I have started to notice things I’ve never noticed before.  Why, for example, did I ever think sitting cross-legged on the floor was comfortable?  In elementary school I could sit that way for hours, but now, after two, maybe three minutes, my knees and back are groaning in protest.  When I go to concerts now, I no longer move and sing along with the music, but instead think seriously about permanent hearing loss.  Last Christmas my mother-in-law bought me a nose-hair trimmer, and I was actually pleased, knowing I would use it at least twice a month.  I’m sure these are signs of aging, but even at forty-six, I still don’t really feel old.

But listening to Jason talk about Harry Macafee like he was some fossil got me to wondering...How old is this character supposed to be?  

The script doesn't say, but it does provide a couple clues.  The musical is set is 1957.  And Mr. Macafee, responding to an unintentional jab at his age from daughter Kim responds “I’m not an old man.  I was eighteen in World War 2.”

Let’s assume he was eighteen at the start of the war.  After all, if he was eighteen on D-Day, he could boast that he was fifteen on the Day of Infamy.  And let’s say he’s counting from even earlier.  Even if he turned nineteen the day after Hitler marched into Poland on September 1st, 1939, he could legitimately claim he was eighteen in World War 2, even if just for a day. 

So that means, the very oldest Harry Macafee--this fossil, this old codger--could be is…let’s see…1957 minus 1939, add 18, and we get…

Thirty-six.

Thirty-six!

THIRTY-SIX!?

I was okay thinking that I was on the edge of being old.  What’s tough is realizing that I am ten years past Codger-hood.  I've been swallowed up by Fossil-hood and am now well into my Geezer-hood.  

Can Old Fart-hood be far behind?