“You talk too much you little sh!t” & other lessons on the value of storytelling from my 94 year old friend Sylvia.

“You talk too much you little sh!t” and other lessons on the value of storytelling from my 94 year old friend. 

At a pivotal time in life, I lied my way into teaching comedy improv at Belmont Village Senior Living in Los Angeles. What started as a trojan horse seeking life advice from older adults became an illuminating experience with the takeaway that life’s oxygen is storytelling. 

(And eventually increased the time I spend reading human interest stories on Linkedin).

The improv sessions smoothly evolved into sitting around sharing stories where I guided us with topics and prompts. I left every session more optimistic and caffeinated about life.

At pre-session dinners in the Belmont dining hall, I sat with six female residents who jokingly called themselves the Other Golden Girls – with the most comically heated debates over who was the Dorothy of the group. I was endearingly paraded around the tables, where they would tell residents “this is Nathan, he’s short like us and the storytelling guy you gotta come it’s a hoot”. 

The residents’ pre-internet / pre-cellphone tales were free time travel, as if they were reliving them right in their seats. Stories about falling in love, escaping war-torn countries, immigration, reinventing oneself, travel, raising families, unlikely friendships, second chances, life’s most embarrassing, most depressing, most laughable, most inspired moments. 

Their stories helped me remember that life is bigger than what happens inside my little solipsistic brain. And the best entertainment is always real stories from real people. 

It was invigorating observing the comedic wit & unique perspectives of these “stereotypically frail” seniors. We revered the elderly for most of civilization. Now, they are sadly marginalized despite their profundity of experience that could more wisely guide human destiny. 

ENTER SYLVIA LIEBERMAN. 

94, noticeably short, perfectly coiffed hair, sporting minimal jewelry yet always elegantly dressed as if boarding a plane the way people used to travel before Lululemon casualized our lives. 

Almost a centenarian, Sylvia still had enough energy to fuel a small nation. She published a children’s book in her 90s, donated to charity, volunteered as a museum docent, and had such an unstoppably sharp wit I struggled to keep up. 

At the end of each session, I asked everyone to share their wisdom. Sylvia and I had a cyclical argument that went like this:

• NATHAN: What is one piece of advice you would give to everyone?
• SYLVIA: Life is short, so live it to the fullest because you could be hit by a bus tomorrow. 
• NATHAN: But Sylvia you’re 94, life is long don’t you think we should live to the fullest because we don’t want to be haunted by regrets and bad decisions when we’re as old as you?
• SYLVIA: Nathan you talk too much you little sh!t. Sit back and listen to your elders and watch out for those buses. (And then she winked). 

Storytelling is the most ancient and modern form of entertainment. It’s as old as cave paintings and modern as Instagram or TikTok or you reading this right now. 

I come to Linkedin for the stories. Of course for the networking, news & data – but really, the stories. This is really just ONE BIG THANKS to all the amazing people here who offer up a piece of themselves for the betterment of the whole. 

I wish Sylvia was still around to share her stories. You would’ve loved her.