Rock of age-ism

Never mind that Ralph Stanley is 82 years old if you see him Friday at the Cedar Cultural Center in Minneapolis.

The bluegrass patriarch once reminded me that he's not as old as most people his age. As a little girl, I would watch him and my grandpa play banjos together. When I saw Stanley in 2000 after a performance of the Down From the Mountain Tour with musicians from "O Brother, Where Art Thou," I approached him to reintroduce myself.

Seeing as how Mr. Bluegrass was getting up there in years, I thought it necessary to jog his memory regarding his days of yore with my grandpa. As I began to blather on about Virginia, banjos and how they would trade guns and cars, Stanley abruptly interrupted my pandering and pointedly said, "I know who John Davis is!"

Guilty as charged. Not all older performers are forgetful.

Nevertheless, critics and fans alike are poignantly indignant toward stars who are past their peak but still performing.

These days, we have many Hall of Famers gracing our concert stages. The tonality of their voices is analyzed; their mobility is scrutinized; their incisiveness is chastised.

Kris Kristofferson (age 73) and Willie Nelson (76) have been blasted for forgetting the lyrics to songs they've sung thousands of times. Senior moments? Perhaps. But not all older performers are showing their age.

In June, blues legend Pinetop Perkins (96) played at the Dakota Jazz Club and defied the laws of nature. Not only was he sharp, but his keen sense of hearing prompted him to announce into the mike that his piano was out of tune. Somewhere in the shadows, a whippersnapper piano tuner was put in his place.

These are performers who've already climbed to the top of the charts, sold out venues worldwide and have nothing else to prove. At this point, does it make sense to say, "Gee, his voice isn't what it used to be" or "He sat on a stool for most of the show"?

Line of demarcation

It raises the question: Is there a particular demarcation in a musician's career when audiences -- and critics -- should politely cease with the criticism, purely out of respect for the legacy?

Would you compare a new Lincoln MKS to a classic 1977 Continental Mark V? Or compare apples to prunes, as the case may be?

Older performers cannot be measured by the same yardstick used when they were in their prime. That borders on age discrimination.

Why do we care if our idols age? We grew up with many of them as our contemporaries, and we live vicariously through them. If they slip, it suggests that we might also be vulnerable to slippage. If we label them as "old," then we are, too.

Our unreasonable insistence that rock stars stay forever young perpetuates the ill-gotten Peter Pan/Never, Neverland syndrome. Even with all the happy thoughts in the world plus a handful of fairy dust, that'll never fly.

Some might argue that if musicians are still putting themselves out there and charging good money for tickets, they are fair game for criticism -- even if they are in their 90s. I beg to differ. If they're lucky enough to make it to a ripe old age, I applaud them. And if they're able to hit the road and perform, I give them a standing ovation.

Sheila Sunderland is a writer from Blaine.