Many scientific studies on happiness find that it comes not from wealth and celebrity but from spending time with people you love and who love you. Yes, I enjoy hanging out with friends and family — especially if there’s food and drink involved — but in my case, those scientists missed something.
Performers need applause to be happy. I am a storyteller, and I need to be lovingly appreciated for speaking my own words. I’ve done several solo theater pieces, and I’ve done countless storytelling shows, but the houses were never big enough to satisfy my ravenous ego.
My biggest claim to semi-fame was my recurring role on Seinfeld, portraying Doris Klompus, a neighbor of Jerry’s father’s in the Florida condo. I also did a second role on that show: an obnoxious passenger on an airplane. For some reason, obnoxious characters are my specialty. My roles here were not very significant, and I had very few lines, but any connection with that show is considered noteworthy — and after all these years I am still collecting residual checks.
Now, very late in life, I suddenly have a real claim to real fame — I am a TikTok star! A few years ago, it was my 29-year-old friend Mackenzie who helped make it happen. One day I told her I wished I could find a larger audience for my work, and she said, “You should be on TikTok.”
“Are you nuts?” I scoffed. “TikTok is about half-naked young girls shaking their booties. Why would anyone be interested in hearing what an old lady like me has to say?” “Trust me, you would blow up,” she said assuredly. “Blow up” is young-people-speak for “get a lot of attention.”
And so it began. I now have over 400,000 followers, and millions of views, from all over the world. I spend blissful hours scrolling through adoring comments like the below from all sorts of people, spanning teens to evangelical Christians to proud Zulus to a multi-generational LGBTQ community.
“Preach, Queen!” “You should run the world!” “Please come to Iceland!” “We love you in Scotland!” “We need your wisdom!” “You are iconic!” But the comment that moved me most was, “I do not understand why I relate so deeply to a Jewish-American woman in her 80s. I am a 16-year-old Afghan boy.” This brought tears to my eyes and confirmed my life-long suspicion that if I ran the world, we would finally achieve global peace.
When my young followers stop me on the street, I enjoy schmoozing with them, and I’m happy to take a selfie. I guess if I were a major celebrity, I might be more protective of my privacy, but I am a very minor celeb so — attention-whore that I am — I welcome the occasional meet-and-greet with an admiring fan.
Sometimes I ask these kids why they like me (my need for adulation knows no bounds), and they often say it’s because I’m so “authentic.” What exactly does that word mean?