We look at life differently

Marie McLaren, an 88-year-old from East Kilbride, has recently joined a comedy class in Glasgow. The group, which includes several over-50s, is preparing for their debut performance at The Social Hub Glasgow. They are learning stand-up techniques from professional comedian Viv Gee, with the sessions concluding in a live show titled *The Old Ones are the Best*. Organized in partnership with Age Scotland, the event marks a bold step for participants who are redefining late-life humor.

Marie, who was nominated by her daughter, shares her philosophy on comedy. “Age is just a number,” she says, countering the stereotype that older performers might be seen as fading. “Nobody’s interested in moaners—so it’s nice to make people laugh and savor life.” Her approach reflects a lifelong love for wit and levity.

“The danger of doing comedy as an older person is that people might think you’ve lost it,” Marie admits. “But I believe age only adds depth.”

Retired journalism lecturer Ronnie Bergman, 74, agrees that stepping into the spotlight is a fresh challenge. “You disappear when you age,” he notes, describing how society often overlooks older individuals. “I was getting too comfortable in a rut, but this class is out of my comfort zone.” Despite his reservations about his own voice and photo, he finds joy in the process.

“I hate getting my photo taken, and I’m disappointed by the sound of my own voice,” he says. “But the discomfort is worth it when the laughs come.”

Christine MacCormack, 70, highlights how her generation’s experiences shape their comedic perspective. “We look at life differently because we were born in a different time,” she explains. Her focus is on embracing the present, rather than worrying about past or future. “I’m just living my best life and want to enjoy the five minutes in the spotlight.”

The group’s material blends life lessons with humor, touching on health challenges, family dynamics, and modern habits. Mitch Milmore, 65, adds a quirky twist with homemade bug-eyed goggles, while Andy Burke, 67, draws from his roots in Springburn, a small Glasgow fishing village. “It’s got some lovely pubs up there,” he jokes. “You go in laughing and come out in stitches.”

“I come from a wee fishing village in Glasgow called Springburn,” Andy says. “It’s got some lovely pubs up there—you go in laughing and come out in stitches.”

Andy’s set includes a string of expletive-laden jokes, followed by a request for feedback from his tutor, Viv Gee. “The great thing about comedy is anyone can do it,” she remarks. “I can’t teach them to be funny, but I can help them become funnier.” The class’s unique blend of wisdom and humor promises to challenge preconceptions about age and artistry.