Golda Meir Singers Refuse to Act Their Age

By Ben Terris
Globe Correspondent

Last Sunday, 96-year old Pat Cohen stood in front of a crowd at the
Golda Meir House in Newton and said, ‘‘I won’t grow up, not me.’’

Playing Peter Pan in a show put on by the Golda Melodiers, the
senior community’s resident singing group, Cohen managed to sum up the
theme of the afternoon: a refusal to act your age.

The show featured a cast of performers, most in their 80s, dressed in
attire ranging from collegiate cap and gown to cowboys and Indians to
Japanese kimonos to technicolored dream coats. In the musical journey that
brought the audience from Italy to Russia to Never Never Land, the
performers shook their hips for the hula and kicked up their legs for the
Can Can.

The youthfulness of the concert may stem from the show’s director,
Rosalind Harmon, who at 95 is one of the group’s oldest members. At
practice, Harmon refused to treat the performers like they had advanced in
age, telling them to ‘‘stop walking like zombies’’ and urging ‘‘come on
ladies, get those legs up and shake those hips.’’

Harmon started the Golda Melodiers 13 years ago, , a culmination to a
musical life.

"No matter whether I am in high school, college, or after, I am
always involved in choral groups,’’ Harmon said. ‘‘Many years ago Natalie
Chase, who still sings in the group, and I were in a real choral group in
our 30s and 40s. Then, lifetimes later we recognized each other here, and
decided to dip into our past and start a little group.’’

For Harmon, the group is more than just about putting on shows.

‘‘Music is the most important part of my life,’’ she said. ‘‘I’m just
about blind, and if I didn’t have my music, I don’t know what would keep me
going. You’ve got to have something to keep you going.’’

Laura Isenberg, the resident service coordinator at Golda Meir House,
agrees with the importance of having activities to keep the mind and body
active.

‘‘We are not a nursing home or assisted living, and it is an
important part of our philosophy to make sure people feel they are a part
of something,’’ Isenberg said. ‘‘It’s not just a series of apartments here,
because groups like the Melodiers make it a a village. They do everything
totally and absolutely themselves, and in doing so are in control of their
artistic output.’’

Members of the group admit that oftentimes it is less about the
quality of their singing and dancing, and more about having a good time.

‘‘I, like almost everyone in this group, couldn’t sing or dance a
lick, but [Harmon] really brought out the best in us,’’ said Gertie
Epstein, 81. ‘‘If you’re not feeling well, come down here and forget your
troubles. It’s great to dance around and look really silly. I don’t care if
everyone watching laughs at me, in fact that’s all part of the fun.’’

Marty Goldstein, 86, feels the same way. Goldstein has been living at
Golda Meir more than 15 years and has been singing in the group for 13 of
them. When he started singing, there were no men in the group, and he is
still quite in the minority. He, too, has few aspirations to become a
professional performer.

‘‘At first I had never really sung before or done anything like this,
but once I started going, I just couldn’t stop,’’ he said. ‘‘My singing
probably hasn’t improved, but my levels of fun have. Plus, as one of the
only men, I’ve got my own harem.’’

At the show, it was clear the Goldstein was having his share of fun.
Over the course of the night he was dressed as Jacob in his coat of many
colors, as a bowlegged cowboy, and most memorably as a leg-kicking
wig-wearing woman for the Can Can.

If the idea of the show was to show that youth could exist anywhere,
then it worked. Perhaps Pat Cohen summed it up best, when after the show
she said:

‘‘Here’s a message from a Peter Pan who might look older than most.
When I sing I feel younger than the springtime.’’