Dick Van Dyke On How To Enjoy Yourself While Circling The Drain

The (almost) 99-year-old legend reflects on senior prat falls, terrible cockney accents, getting saved by porpoises, and why he should play Moses

In the early 1960s, when Dick Van Dyke signed on to star in his eponymous sitcom, he thought casting Mary Tyler Moore to play his wife was absurd. He was 36 at the time, and she was just 25. “Isn’t she a little young for me?” he asked producers.

That was more than half a century ago. This week—on Friday the 13th, of all days—Van Dyke is turning 99 years old, making him just one year shy of a centenarian. The age gap between him and his current wife, makeup artist Arlene Silver, is a bit more extreme. She’s 53, almost half his age. Back when he was worrying about Mary Tyler Moore being too young, his future wife was still nine years away from being born.

If you’re lucky enough to spend an afternoon with Van Dyke, as I did, you might just walk away feeling lazy for every second you sat on your butt when you could’ve been dancing on a roof like a chimney sweep who’d just done the “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang” with a younger woman.

Eric Spitznagel: How often during an average day do you break into a dance for no apparent reason?

Dick Van Dyke: Quite a bit, actually. You go into any store today and they’re playing music, usually something with a heavy beat. I’ve got what Steve Martin calls happy feet. I hear music and my feet just start moving.

ES: How do people react when you spontaneously start gyrating your hips like a crazy person? 

DVD: Most people just assume I’m a crazy old man who’s lost his mind. If they recognize me, it’s okay. They’ll smile and go, “That’s just Dick.” But if they just catch a glimpse of me from behind, I’m pretty sure they’re thinking, “Oh, that poor man. He has no idea where he is.”

ES: Can you still bust out with a Mary Poppins chimney sweep dance?

DVD: Oh sure, yeah. When Disney did a big 60th anniversary tribute, they invited me to come and do the chimney sweep dance with a bunch of kids. I can still do. I’m not jumping off buildings, but the basics of it I can handle. When I was younger, I met Fred Astaire when he was in his mid-80s, and I asked him, “Do you still dance?” He said, “Yes, but it hurts now.” [Laughs.] I finally know what he means. It’s an honest answer. 

ES: It hurts when you dance?

DVD: Sometimes. I’ve got plenty of arthritis. But if you keep moving, it won’t bother you that much. That’s why old guys stiffen up. They forget they have to get out of their chairs and do something. You let the moss grow over, it’s your own fault.

ES: You’ve had no formal training in any of the skill sets you’re famous for. Singing, acting, dancing, you faked your way through all of it.

DVD: That’s right! That shows you how lazy I am. Once I got a job singing and dancing, a reasonable person might think, “Maybe I should learn how to do this.” But no, I never did.

ES: Is the ultimate lesson of your career, “If you want to be great at something, don’t go to school?”

DVD: No, no, no! [Laughs.] Young people ask me for advice, and I tell them to do what I didn’t do. Get some training.

ES: Are you sure? You’re living proof that jumping into the deep end of the pool when you can’t swim doesn’t always end with you drowning.

DVD: I guess that’s true. Okay, never mind, I like your version better. [Laughs.]