A Year in 90 minutes, give or take

Last night I had the extreme good fortune to see a wonderful production at Theatre IV at the Shops at Willow Lawn called "A Year with Frog and Toad" Yes, I know I am 48, and this is a kid's show, but it was one of the best and most entertaining shows I've seen this year. It is certainly at the top of my list of all the "kid's shows" I've seen. From the very first moment that we hear the dulcet tones of the "birds" - dressed like flappers ( I just got that when I typed it) and their 20's zoot-suited companion until the bows, it's a joy! No one could have picked two finer actors than Robert Throckmorton and Chris Stewart to play "Frog" and "Toad" respectively. Their friendship is real and warm, and they compliment each other beautifully. The three actors that support them are amazing in their own moments to shine whether playing birds, snails, turtles, mice, squirrels or moles. Their dancing and singing is spot on, and I pretty much forgot I was watching a "kid's show". So many theaters make the mistake of playing "over-the-top" to kids which makes it unbearable for the adult who is accompanying the child. Not the case with "Frog and Toad" There were several children in the audience last night, and all seemed to be totally engrossed in the production. The music is great! (My 19 year old made a comment that she would like to have the soundtrack on her iPod) and the choreography is imaginative and fun. The set is not complicated but works perfectly for the production. I especially liked the turntable effect of the houses and the hole in the floor. One other thing that makes this show mesmerizing is the gorgeous lighting design by Joe Doran. There are moments that are absolutely breathtaking. I found myself Ooing and Ahing more than once at the visual created by the lights.
The house was small last night, very small, and I think that's a shame! This show is not to be missed, and it is well worth the ticket price. I know it's the holiday season and money is tight for everyone, but make a trip to this show a Christmas present to your family or even yourself. You'll be glad you did!

♪♫We've got that holiday feelin'♫♪

Today as I read a Facebook post from a friend sharing his own memory, it opened a flood gate of my own memories. He posted about listening to Christmas Albums (yes, you heard me correctly, ALBUMS, the vinyl kind that were played on turntables) while wrapping Christmas presents with his mom. He spoke about the "Firestone" albums. It instantly took me back to my Grandmother's living room and stacking the vinyl discs on the stereo to listen to as each one dropped at its appropriate time to provide hours of music. We had to be careful not to load the turntable to heavy or they would begin to drag with the weight and affect the sound and tempo. Over the years as vinyl records and stereo turntables have become obsolete, I have missed those songs on those albums. With all the digital technology we have, I have not been able to find several beloved songs from my childhood...until now. These records were artists' compilations, and they were produced by the tire companies Firestone and Goodyear and the huge chain of "dime stores" called Grants. I had forgotten that or filed it away in my memory banks until today when my friend sparked that memory, and I began to search. Two songs in particular I loved and wore out the grooves on the album as I played them over and over, one was a sweet ballad about a donkey who is sad because he is not beautiful and realizes he is special when he is chosen to carry Mary through Bethlehem. Ed Ames sang it, and I incorrectly thought it was called "I'm Not Beautiful" which may be the reason it has eluded my search all these years. The other was an upbeat tune by Steve Lawrence and Eydie Gorme called, "We've Got That Holiday Feelin'" in the style that only Steve and Eydie can deliver. Dork Alert! I even had this number choreographed with my imaginary partner so I would be ready when asked to do a television Christmas special. Today my search ended when I found the website, Christmas LP's on CD. I was like a kid in a candy store as I pulled up each album to check the discography for those two titles specifically, smiling ear to ear as I looked at those original album covers. I can't wait to order!! Now if I could just remember the dance routine to "We've Got That Holiday Feelin'" and find my Steve Lawrence, I'll have it made. Any takers?

An Open Letter to AG Cast and Crew

Dear Cast and Crew of Anything Goes,
Back in June when I accepted the job of directing this show, I had no idea what I was in for. I was scared and nervous and thrilled and excited all at the same time. When I showed up for auditions in September, I really felt like the proverbial fish out of water. Being an actor, I had never been on the other side of the table before. Casting was difficult. I went back and forth several times questioning my choices before typing up the FINAL list. I knew when that list was read that there would be elation for some and sadness for others. I wasn't really sure if I was comfortable with that kind of power, but I also knew that disappointment is par for the course when auditioning for a show.
First rehearsal: Butterflies and nervous stomach are the rule of the day. It was like being the new kid at school but coming in in the middle of the year. Everybody already knows everybody else, and you don't know anybody. The first rehearsal came and went, and nobody bit my head off. I left with the feeling that this directing thing might be okay, and as each rehearsal came and went, things got better and better, even with all of our non-stage drama, we survived, and the seeds that we started with bloomed into a beautiful garden.
I know I said it to you before, but I could not have been more pleased with all of you and the creative risks you took as actors and performers. The crew ran like a well oiled machine, and I never had to worry about anything behind the scenes. As a director I had a vision, and all of you helped me realize it. I will be forever grateful and in your debt that I was able to make a dream come true, and for 3 months in the Fall of 2011, I was a director.
One of you told me as things were winding down that I had to come back and visit. The response I gave was, "I'll be back! We're now connected for life." The words of the song really are true! "There's no people like show people!"
Love,
Miss Moore
P.S. I love my gifts, especially my cast photo! It will be proudly displayed in my theatre/movie themed living room and my flowers look gorgeous on my dining room table!

Goodbye, Farewell and Amen, Col. Potter!

This week the world lost a wonderful character actor. Harry Morgan passed away at his home in California at age 96. Harry Morgan played countless roles in film and television, but my all time favorite was his run as Col. Sherman T. Potter on M*A*S*H from 1975-1983. M*A*S*H ranks as one of my favorite TV shows right up there with The Golden Girls, The Andy Griffith Show,  and The Dick Van Dyke Show. What made all of these shows great was their wonderful ensemble casts. M*A*S*H faced a unique challenge, however, as their ensemble changed several times. Other shows who dealt with actors who played principle roles leaving the show rarely survived, but M*A*S*H seemed to thrive on it and beautifully evolve. Harry Morgan stepped into the cast as Col. Potter after a beloved character on the show, Col. Henry Blake got his discharge to go home, but there was a twist after the bittersweet sendoff. In one of the most shocking surprise endings in television history, Radar stumbles into the operating room without a mask to tell the surgeons that Henry's plane was shot down and crashed into the Sea of Japan with no survivors.

How do you follow that? The writing staff had a gift when it came to introducing new characters as others left. Granted, the setting of war helped as, realistically, people come and go all the time, but I think their strength was in the fact that they never tried to write the character who came in to be just like the one that left. They were always completely different. So was the case when actor, Harry Morgan, came onto the scene as the new commanding officer of the rag tag group of doctors and nurses. Morgan's character, Sherman Potter, was a 360 degree turn around from Henry Blake. He was regular army, something the camp wasn't used to, but by the end of the first episode, the viewer loves him just as much. One of my very favorite scenes involves all the staff giving the new Colonel welcome gifts. Radar, the beloved company clerk, who thought of Blake as a father, leads the last gift into the office. It's a horse. The look on Harry Morgan's face is one I never will forget. He is instantly moved, and thinking about it right now as I type, I am getting teary eyed. He had many moments like that as he stayed with the cast until the last episode aired in 1983. The following is a clip that I think is a particularly appropriate farewell. There will be no more long night. The long, long trail is over. Rest in Peace.

I'm seeing RED!

Yesterday, December 1, 2011, was a special day. There were no parties, or lavish dinners, although it was about an anniversary of sorts. 30 years ago in 1981, the Center for Disease Control and Prevention recognized a disease for the first time, Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome. You and I know it as AIDS. I remember back in 1991 watching a telecast of the Tonys and wondering why everyone was wearing a red ribbon on their tuxedo lapel or designer dress. It was the first time I had ever seen anything like that. Of course now, it is common place, and there are ribbons of every color of the rainbow for awareness of everything from domestic violence to breast cancer. I didn't know much about AIDS then, neither did anyone else. At first it was called the "Gay" disease because a large portion of the homosexual community were being diagnosed. It is not a "Gay" disease. Anyone can contract the virus, HIV, which causes AIDS. That fact is a common misconception about this disease. There are many things that people don't understand about it, and that is what yesterday was all about. December 1st was proclaimed World AIDS Day. It was about raising awareness, and getting information out that is correct, because, although the disease is deadly, there are so many things that can be done to prevent it. In doing a little research to write this post, I looked up celebrities who have or had AIDS. I was amazed at the number of people. The list went on and on, and most of them have passed away. We've made great strides, but we still have a long way to go in educating EVERYONE about this horrible disease. I commend organizations like the Fan Free Clinic here in Richmond for doing everything they can to raise awareness. Fight the fear and get educated. You can't ignore it by pretending it would never touch you or one you love. You'd be surprised. You may know someone right now who has it, but they're embarrassed to reveal it to anyone because of the ignorance that is still so rampant about AIDS and why people get it. I pray that one day there will be a cure, not just for the disease but the stigma that's attached to it.

What have I Got to be Thankful for?

This year has brought many challenges and struggles. If you keep up with this blog, you know that we sold my mother's house after 30 years of living, a task that would make anyone want to pull their hair out, but along with that, I was also having to move as I lived with her. Finding the right place at an affordable price so that my youngest daughter could remain at her current high school was not easy. We found out in May that although my oldest was accepted into a very prestigious University's BFA program for Theatre, she would not be able to attend because something that I thought was a benefit at my current job, tuition exchange, was not a given, and the tuition was just too high without it. My little family of 3 is feeling the pinch just like everyone else in this economy of ever climbing prices weighed against stagnant income. WOW! Painting a pretty pathetic picture, huh? What have I got to be thankful for?............A LOT! First, let's address the issue of my mother's house. In this TERRIBLE market, the house sold in less than 3 months. With the help of a wonderful real estate agent, Barbara P. Bennett, we found a place for my girls and I to live in the right school district and it's a place I really love. When my oldest wasn't able to attend the University where she was accepted, she decided to take a gap year, and I have had the wonderful pleasure of having her home with me a little bit longer. She was able to get two jobs that she's perfect for and she enjoys. The economy? Well I don't really have encouraging news there, but in the times we have really been up against it financially, we have had someone there to help us. In three days we will celebrate the day set aside for giving thanks. I love this holiday, partly because it's not so rushed and jam packed with so many things to do or places to be. I am lucky enough to have 5 days off, and I spend them at home. No, I am not a BLACK Friday shopper. I wake up on Thursday morning and put my turkey in the oven, and spend the day making all my favorites that I grew up with and a few of my own too. I sample and enjoy the smells of turkey and dressing, and carrot cake as it bakes. I watch the parade and sit down with my favorite people and enjoy the meal I've cooked. No rushing, no craziness, just time to enjoy each other and all we have to be thankful for. Even with all the struggle, I am so blessed. I wouldn't trade my life for a struggle free one if it meant giving up the things that truly matter, the love of my children, the privilege that I have of watching them grow and share in their joys and sorrows, the fact that I am there for them, and they know it and rely on it, a wonderful church family that has been there for us in so many ways, family and friends that are encouraging and supportive. I could go on and on and on, but I won't. I do, however, encourage you to look at all there is around you to be thankful for and appreciate it not just on Thursday but every day of the year.

At What Price?

Unless you live under a rock, you have read or heard the horrible news surrounding Penn State and their football program. I read an article today, really an editorial, about how the writer felt about the actions of the coaches and administration concerning the rape and molestation of children at the hands of one of their own. The author took the approach of writing a manual of how to deal with this situation. At first glance, if the reader knew nothing of the scandal, they would think that the one who penned this piece was stating the obvious, common sense. Surely no one needs to have these steps written down to know to do them, and that was just the point. The "rules" of what to do when witnessing or being told of an act as unspeakable as this, a crime, certainly do not need to be in print for one to know what to do. Yet, not one, but several people, looked the other way. Oh, they did "enough" to ease their conscience. They all played "Pilate" in this scenario and their hands were clean. They did what they were supposed to do, so the abuser should have been arrested immediately, right? WRONG! He was not arrested, and the abuse continued with 14 other young boys. I'm sure you're thinking that can't be possible! How could he not be arrested? One reason, he was never reported to the police. This amazes me. Two different people witnessed firsthand what was going on, and not only did they not try to stop it right then, they did not call the police. In a comment listed in response to the editorial said something that haunted me, in regards to the boy who was victimized, "I wonder if he heard the door and thought he was saved, only to hear the door open and close again." Imagine if you were that boy. Why wasn't it stopped? Why wasn't something done? Only those men can answer to that. I can only speculate that it was out of  selfish fear of losing what was important to them, but at what price? Unfortunately much too high a price for 15 young boys.

48...gonna be great!!!

Yesterday, I turned 48. I am 2 years away from the big 50, but the funny thing is, I don't feel old. In fact, I feel better on this birthday than I have in years! I am happier, and one of the biggest reasons for that is I'm healthier. I am 45 lbs. lighter than I was on my last birthday, and I can't believe the difference in the way it makes me feel on a daily basis. My lighter self is not the only reason I feel like this birthday is the beginning of a wonderful journey. I have 2 of the most wonderful daughters that anyone could ever ask for. They love me, and I love them so very much. I am so blessed to have them in my life! I am living on my own in a house that's all my own to decorate as I please. I am also having an amazing time directing for the first time with a fabulous group of students at Tucker High School, my alma mater. It feels surreal to stand in that auditorium watching these high school students and their excitement as they create on the very same stage that I stood on 30 years ago. I am so proud and can't wait to see these young actors and actresses in the show on opening night! Something else has happened in the last week that is another step on my "new life, new me" journey. Those of you who know me, know that if I had my wish, I would be acting full time. I was bitten by the acting bug 38 years ago. Because of a whole set of circumstances, I have not been on the stage in a year and a half. It's like a piece of me goes missing the longer I go without doing a show. Back on October 1st I went to Barksdale and Theatre IV's open call for their entire season, but the show I was really interested in was "Always, Patsy Cline." This show drew my attention especially, for two reasons. One was the fact that it was being directed by someone that I admire greatly, Joe Pabst. Joe and I have worked together many times, and I really wanted the chance to work with him again. The second reason was that I would get to share the stage with a stellar actress and an awesome singer, Debra Wagoner. I got a callback two weeks ago, and last week I got a call offering me the part of "Louise" I am thrilled! I cannot wait to start rehearsing and to set foot on the stage again in such wonderful company! So...48? Old? Not a chance! I feel like my life is just beginning!

"In time we hate that which we often fear" ~ William Shakespeare

I remember as a child talking in my earliest classes about how boring life would be if we were all the same, that being different is what made the world an interesting place to be. For some reason that always brought an image to mind of this huge cookie cutter that cut as all from the same dough in the exact same shape. I can remember thinking, "How Boring!" I took away from that lesson that it's okay to be different, even preferred. My childhood classes would have taken place in the early 1970's, and at that time, I didn't even know what "being gay" meant except being "happy and gay" I'm not sure all of the people who were teaching me those lessons knew what "being gay" meant. It was certainly never discussed in my household. However, I chose to be involved in the theatre at the age of 10, and many people that I came in contact with were "gay" although I had no concept of that. They didn't hurt me. They didn't corrupt my mind with their "evil" ways. We were just in a show together and talked and laughed and played. Fast forward to my high school days. By this time, I knew what "gay" meant. It still didn't bother me. That was back in 1982. No one was really "out" at that time. I remember one of my dear friends who was a senior decided to be "out" It was a bold and courageous move on his part. I spent a great deal of time worrying about him, not because of what he was, but because of the way others might react. He made it out of high school unscathed, physically at least, but things could have been so much worse. Why? Because, unfortunately, there also exists something called "hate." I remember at the time that he was physically threatened by some players on the football team. They were going to beat him up because he was "different" Wait, what happened to that cookie cutter philosophy? Wasn't it good to be different? Not in those football players minds, but why so much animosity to the point of threatened violence? One word, FEAR! It amazes me that they were afraid of my gentle, sweet friend, but that fear of his difference is what drove their hate of him.
13 years ago on this very day, that same type of fear led two men to brutally torture a 22 year old gay man and leave him to die in the cold and biting wind of a remote area in Laramie, Wyoming. Matthew Shepard suffered a fate that night that I wouldn't wish on a wild animal, let alone a fellow human being. There was no motivation for their actions but hate. They weren't crazy or maniacal. They knew exactly what they were doing, and that, my friends, is the true horror of it all. Why can't we go back to that preschool and early childhood mentality? We can't all be, think, live the same. That makes life boring. Just because someone is different than you doesn't mean there difference will rub off on you. Difference is not a disease, but HATE is. Hate, when nurtured, spreads like wildfire. I don't know about you, but I'm ready for an end to this epidemic! Somebody posted the quote from Eminem on Facebook today in the picture above. It really is that simple.

A Chapter Closed

The closing for the sale of my childhood home since 1977 was slated for 3:00 today. Over the last 34 years. I have moved in and out of that house 5 times. I initially moved in back in 1977 in the summer of my 7th grade year. The house was big enough that my whole family lived there. My Mom and Dad, my sister and my maternal grandparents all in the same house. At that time Gayton Forest seemed like "the country." Truthfully, there wasn't much past that neighborhood but woods. If you know the Short Pump area at all now, that seems inconceivable. I spent my high school days in that house. So many firsts, first date, first dance, first high school party, and my first kiss in the front foyer. I got engaged in that house, lost my first baby to miscarriage and was elated when I found out that I was pregnant again, all in that house. It was a shelter in the time of storm when at 34 I found myself with no money, no job and no car after my husband of 15 years left and I had two tiny girls to raise alone. My parents opened up the basement apartment so that we were not left on the street. My girls spent most of their childhood there and they were incredibly fortunate to be able to spend so much time with both of their grandparents and their great grandmother all in that house. Birthdays, and Christmases, and Thanksgivings and Halloweens have been spent inside those walls. Today that chapter closes in my life and the house's life. Tomorrow a new family will start a new chapter in "my" house. I wish for them all the things that made that house a home to me.

Where does the time go?

19 years ago I was traveling early in the morning to St. Mary's hospital. I wasn't injured. I hadn't been in an accident. My first baby was 2 1/2 weeks past due, and I was going to be induced. I was bound and determined to have this baby naturally ( A.k.a. NO DRUGS) That was until I realized that being induced meant hard labor right away, no gradual ease into the major labor pains. I dealt with it the best I could for 7 hours, but then when I was told I wasn't progressing at all, natural childbirth went out the window. GIVE ME AN EPIDURAL!!!! Even after that, labor still went on for another 6 hours and I still didn't progress. On top of that, the labor was stressing my little baby, and the heart rate kept dropping. Induction was stopped, and I ended up having a C-section. We had decided we didn't want to know the sex of the baby. We wanted to be surprised, and I was sure I was having a boy. In the delivery room as I felt extreme pressure as the doctors pushed and prodded to get the baby out, I thought, what are they doing? The doctor kept saying, "He's a big one! He's a big one...whoops, she's a big one." At 8:16 PM my little baby girl was born. Healthy, 9 1/2 pounds and amazing.
Today she turns 19 and, thank God, she is still healthy, a little bigger than 9 1/2 pounds but more amazing than I ever could have imagined or wished she could be. She is talented, and beautiful, and caring and I couldn't ask for a better daughter if I had placed an order. She is a grown up, and it's hard for me to believe. It's also hard for me to let go, but I'm learning. She is my friend and many times in her 19 years she has been my savior. She believes in me, she encourages me and she never gives up on me. I am so blessed when many parents have either no relationship or worse yet a terrible relationship with their daughter, I have a friend. Happy birthday my sweet girl!

Not your normal Anniversary!

Today is a very special day. It is an anniversary, of sorts, but not the kind where you go out to dinner and celebrate and have cake and balloons. It is a somber occasion. Today marks 10 years since America was attacked by terrorists. Yes, I said attacked, right here on our soil, not some distant far off land that only exists on our television screens on CNN.  Why were we attacked? That's the funny thing. There is no reason. We did not provoke the attack in any way. We did not "start it" as a child might say after being confronted by a parent when asked why he hit his brother or sister. Were we at war? No. Was it some strategic military base that held secret weapons or plans and seen as a threat and therefore destroyed? No. The people attacked that day were ordinary, everyday, people just like you and me who were in the right place at the wrong time. They had started the day just like any other Tuesday by going to work or starting their shift of rescue or fire or police or boarding a plane for business or vacation, but oh how the day would end. Some of those people would survive and live to tell their amazing story. Most would not. There will be many posts today and articles and documentaries talking about 9/11 and what happened that day. I am going to choose to talk about two groups of people that, in the face of incredible danger, and without thought for their own selves did what had to be done. I am talking about the teams of firefighters, rescue and police and the passengers aboard United Flight 93.
1. The First Responders
No one was prepared for what would unfold when they got up that morning 10 years ago. None of us were. But when it did happen, these brave men and women rushed to do their job, and many lost their lives for it. This was not a routine, all in a days work call. Many of us were glued to the television in the safety of our homes, and thanking God that we were not anywhere near what was going on. Sitting there afraid of what would happen next when they were right in the middle of it saving lives and giving the help that was needed. Where would we have been without them? They are our heroes everyday, but this day they were superheroes. Sadly, unlike superheroes, they were not indestructible, and we lost so many. God bless them all!
2. The Passengers of United Flight 93
That Tuesday started out routine for them as well. They boarded a plane in Newark, NJ bound for San Francisco, CA. Maybe some were traveling for business as they had done a thousand times before. Perhaps some were headed to see the Golden Gate Bridge or Fisherman's Wharf on their first vacation to the west coast. It turned out to be the last time they would ever fly anywhere because 4 other people boarded that plane with them that had other things besides business trips and vacations on their minds. It is believed that those 4 men intended to hijack and fly the plane into the Capitol Building in Washington, DC. However, the passengers, in this age of technology, were able to call loved ones and others on the ground and were told of the horrors that had already taken place. They voted to rush the cockpit and make sure this suicide mission of evil would not succeed. Ordinary people stepped up and acted in an extraordinary manner, and again, became unlikely heroes. Not what they intended that day, to be sure, but nevertheless, their bravery kept at least one plane from reaching it's destination at the cost of their lives. God bless them all!
I hope that none of us will ever have to face such dangerous times again, but if we do, I hope that we will find in ourselves, somewhere the amazing courage all of them showed that day.

I would make a really bad Amish person

Exactly 4 days ago my hometown, Richmond, VA, got hit with the remnants of Hurricane Irene in the form of a Tropical Storm. I have experienced the aftemath of a hurricane before when Isabel blew through, and my girls (very young then) and I sat in the candlelight and listened as tree after tree snapped and then crashed hoping the next would not come through the house. We finally got to sleep. The next morning was the calm after the storm. It was beautiful and sunny and QUIET. We went outside, and I couldn't believe all the trees that were down all around us. We were without power for about 4 days then, but it didn't seem that bad. We cooked food on the grill, cleaned the house and played games. That was 8 years ago. We just got power back today after losing it around 6:30 on Saturday evening. Barely 3 days, and it seemed like forever. What was the big difference between now and then? A huge difference has to be our immense dependence on technology. We have become "connected" 24/7 to news, internet, bank accounts and friends with the tap of a finger on a touchscreen or a couple of keystrokes on a computer. We have the choice of hundreds of television stations and movies as close as the remote. When that power source leaves, so does that connection, and we are all at a loss. Another big difference for me was that I didn't have to be anywhere in 2008 when Isabel hit. I had a job with the school system, and we were closed. The girls were young, and it was somewhat of an adventure. The girls are now in their teens, and 24 hours was enough! We were all thrilled when we got "THE CALL" today that power had been restored. I was actually excited to wash my dishes today. That feeling won't last, and tonight it was business as usual.
When you get used to something, you take it for granted, but when it's gone, you realize just how blessed you are to be able to have all those things mentioned above. So many people are upset with Dominion Virginia Power as if somehow it is their fault that power was lost. The storm was the thief. The power company is the hero working tirelessly to restore electricity to over 1 million customers. Think about that. We are very fortunate that it has only been 3 days. I am so thankful for all the workers who have been out there dealing with very dangerous stuff so I can update my status on Facebook! So when you drive by a crew working in the next couple of days, wave, smile and give them a thumbs up. They deserve at least that and so much more!

We're Off to See the Wizard!

Today is the anniversary of a very important event, well important to me anyway. On this date back in 1939, The Wizard of Oz premiered at Grauman's Chinese Theater in Hollywood, CA. It is no secret that I absolutely adore The Wizard of Oz. In fact my first blog post was about a Wizard of Oz snuggie that I had received as a Christmas present. I can't ever remember not watching the movie. It has always been in my life. Of course, when I was growing up, back in the mid 1960's and early 70's, there were no VCR's or DVD's or Cable television for that matter. There were 4 stations. ABC, NBC, CBS, and Public Broadcasting. Therefore, The Wizard of Oz was broadcast once a year, and I never missed it until my senior year in high school when a Forensics competition prevented me from my yearly viewing. I was extremely distraught! With the invention of video and now DVD and Bluray, one can watch this amazing movie whenever the urge strikes, and as odd as this may sound, that makes me a little sad because the yearly viewing was an event, something to look forward to, like a holiday. I am, however, very grateful that I have the movie preserved and in my possession to watch in case television ever decides to stop airing it. As much as I love it, I have only seen it on the big screen twice and that was as an adult, although you wouldn't know it by my excited behavior! The Wizard of Oz is  one of those movies you either love or hate. I have met some haters in my day, but regardless of what you feel about the the film and its story, I defy anyone to watch it for its production value and not be amazed at the final product and just how well the movie is filmed! Now remember, this was filmed in 1938 when there were no computers, so no CGI (Computer Generated Imagery). Every special effect had to be designed with something tangible and filmed to make the desired effect. The "twister" scene in this film is so realistic, that if I had been on set, I may have pushed  Auntie Em out of the way to get to the storm cellar. The  idea to film the farm scenes in Sepia tone and the over the rainbow scenes in brilliant color was ingenious, and forget about the Wicked Witch of the West being scary (in fact I know some adults to this day who are afraid of her). It's the Flying Monkeys that are the creepiest! I can't believe they are people in costume. Add to all that a magnificent cast, Judy Garland, Ray Bolger, Bert Lahr, Jack Haley, Billie Burke, Margaret Hamilton and Frank Morgan and you had an awesome film! It has become an icon of the 20th century, and it has been delighting audiences, young and old alike, since it's debut. Whether your child watches it over and over again on DVD or you catch it on TBS when they run it back to back on a weekend ( and don't pretend that when your channel surfing if you see it, that you don't stop. I know I do) it will always be with us as part of our history and part of our hearts.

Before and after, well at least 5 months after

To look at me now, one wouldn't think that I had the nickname "Skinny Minnie" growing up, but I did. Up until the age of 10 I could eat anything, and I never gained an ounce. I was literally skin and bones. Then nature played a cruel trick on me. My metabolism changed, and I started to gain weight. From then on it was up and down all through my middle and high school years. Now, I must say that with all the hype of media about body issues for girls, you would think it was something new. It's not. I went through High School thinking I was fat. Looking at pictures now, I can't imagine what I was thinking. I might not have been tiny, but I was in no way "FAT" I've spent pretty much of my adult life going on this diet or that to get into a dress or please someone else or look good for this or that event. I'm sure you can guess where this is leading. It never worked. Oh, sure, I would lose the weight, get to a point where I was starting to look good to myself, and then tire of the deprivation of those wonderful foods that I loved so much. And then, pack on the pounds as I indulged. Last February I went to the doctor for a check-up to renew my blood pressure medication. They did lab work, and I got a call at the end of February from the nurse. She asked me if I had a minute. Now, let me pause here to say that I have always been pretty healthy all through my life, even though I have spent a lot of it overweight. So imagine my shock when I heard what the nurse said. She told me that my lab work had come back, and that my blood sugar numbers registered as Pre-diabetic. I was told to go on a low carb, low sugar diet. WOW! Talk about a wake-up call. At this point, you may be thinking, "Didn't she know she was overweight?" Of course I did, but I had a mental attitude of "I like who I am inside, so screw the world, and their definition of beauty." There's nothing wrong with that attitude. It is important to love ourselves no matter what package we are wrapped in, but I kept "feeding" (no pun intended) that attitude as I ballooned higher and higher up the scale. When I got the call from the doctor's office, my weight was at an all time high, and 18 lbs. over the mental limit I had told myself I would never cross. The words I heard on the phone that day made me stop and re-examine my "attitude" I'm not stupid I knew that the weight I was at was unhealthy, but it took someone to tell me what I was risking to make me do something. I found out on a Friday, and that Monday I started my new life. I choose not to use the word diet. I have been on many "diets", and they have never held long term results. There's no magic formula,  no matter how many commercials you see or ads you hear that claim that there is. What has really made things successful for me this time, I think, is that I'm not on a diet, I'm not in a hurry, and I haven't set some unrealistic goal. I'm living a new way to preserve my health. Weight loss is just a perk. I'm not preaching, and I hope it doesn't come off that way.  Losing weight is not a race to the finish line, it's a journey to a better, healthier way of life. I'm still on my journey, and I just want people to know that it's not easy, but it's worth it! 40 lbs. so far, and I feel so much better, and so glad I started this voyage.

Why can't life be like the movies?

I love movies! I don't see as many as I would like to anymore as I rarely see one in the theatre, TOO EXPENSIVE! But...there was a time when I saw movies on a regular basis, and then the ones I really liked in theatre, I purchased on video (that word right there dates me) for my own collection. My collection is filled with movies I adore, some old , The Wizard of Oz, Hitchcock's Notorious, Arsenic and Old Lace with Cary Grant and many others, some new-er like Pleasantville, Rain Man and Victor, Victoria. There is one film in my collection that I have been thinking a lot about lately given the government's current financial stand-off. It is a movie called Dave starring Kevin Kline and Sigourney Weaver that was released in 1993, almost 20 years ago. If you've seen it, indulge me while I give a brief synopsis. If you haven't rent it and watch it!
 Bill Mitchell is the philandering and distant President of the United States. Dave Kovic is a sweet-natured and caring Temp Agency operator, who by a staggering coincidence looks exactly like the President. As such, when Mitchell wants to escape an official luncheon, the Secret Service hires Dave to stand in for him. Unfortunately, Mitchell suffers a severe stroke whilst having sex with one of his aides, and Dave finds himself stuck in the role indefinitely. The corrupt and manipulative Chief of Staff, Bob Alexander, plans to use Dave to elevate himself to the White House - but unfortunately, he doesn't count on Dave enjoying himself in office, using his luck to make the country a better place, and falling in love with the beautiful First Lady. ~ from IMDB

Why do I love this movie so much? Well first of all, I love anything Kevin Kline touches and secondly, it's one of those great, feel good, do the right thing, hope for the future movies that I am drawn to. With recent news depressing us all, I couldn't help but think of this film, and how "seemingly" simple things could be. I long for the day, when it's not about winning and control and argument for argument's sake but about running this country in a manner that is best for its people and being fair and working together. A pipe dream? Maybe, but this film gives me a glimmer of hope. Maybe life needs to take a lesson from the movies, well...at least this one.

"So shines a good deed in a weary world." ~ Willy Wonka

I spend a good amount of time on the Internet between email and Facebook. Ahhh...Facebook..that phenomenon of social networking. If you are familiar with Facebook, and if you're not, you need to seriously reconsider that "hermit" thing, you know that people post things all the time. Some are of interest to me, others are not, but every once in a while someone posts something that touches me deeply. This morning as I was scrolling through my news feed I came across a video that Jim Beaver posted. It was about a softball team and one particular player who scored her first home run, but there was a problem. She hit the ball over the fence, but turning 1st, she tore her ACL and dropped to the ground in pain. The rules state that if her own team members were to touch her to help her around the bases, she would be called out. What to do? And then something happened. A player from the opposing team asked the umpire if she could pick her up and carry her around the bases. She was told there was no rule against that, so she and another teammate picked up the injured player and carried her around the bases, stopping to touch her uninjured foot on each base. She had her home run, her first and last, as the injury ended her softball career. The opposing team lost the game that day as the home run they assisted with drove in two other runs, but it wasn't about winning that day. It was about doing the right thing, putting someone else before yourself! As I watched the video, and, YES, I cried, I couldn't help but think, ALL IS NOT LOST! There is till hope for a better world when you see young people exhibit such selfless behavior. The world is in their hands, and I'm pretty comfortable with that.

I'm having a heart attack, take me to the ER....WAIT! Can you afford that?

This is my 114th blog post, and the 113 before this one have been personal revelations, insights, opinions, not many have entered into the political realm. This one won't really either, but something happened to me about a month ago that has opened this door for me.
On the 10th of June, I started feeling this all too familiar pain in the left flank of my back. The annoyance of a kidney stone. Yes, I am one of the lucky ones that suffers with kidney stones. they were first presented to me as a gift from my soon to be born second child back in 1995. From 1995 to 2005, I had a major stone ~ by that, I mean one causing pain severe enough to send me to the ER ~ about every 6 months. And then, as if by magic, they stopped. I'm sure it had a lot to do with diet changes. They stopped until Friday, June 10th, 2011. By Saturday, June 11th, the pain was so intense I could barely take a breath, and the pain had moved. It was more in the front than the back and seemed to be in my abdomen. I thought, what if this isn't a kidney stone? What if my appendix is about to burst or I have some major Gastrointestinal issue. I woke my daughter and asked her to drive me to the ER. Ahh, the ER, perhaps another blog post for another time. Needless to say, it was not a great experience. Cutting to the chase, I spent 5 hours there to find out I had a kidney stone (actually, 3, but one large enough to be lodged in my ureter, hence the pain in my abdomen and two smaller ones sitting in my kidney) and to get a pain shot with discharge instructions to follow up with my urologist. Now, let me start by saying I am not a baby when it comes to pain. I have a very high tolerance for pain. An Example: The accident I had when I was young that I have blogged about before required that I have a plastic surgery procedure on my face called skin planing every 6 months for 8 years. That's 16 procedures. The patient is given a local (in my case, Novocaine) and the procedure is done while the patient is awake. I felt all but one, because I apparently needed more Novocaine than the average dose. However, I never told my doctor until the last procedure that I could feel everything because I didn't want to hurt his feelings. All that to make this point. I don't visit the ER at the drop of a hat. When I visited on June 11th, I was asked for a $75.00 co-pay. I thought to myself, "Oh, it's gone up from $50.00 to $75.00," never looking at my card to check.  Not checking the insurance before going to the ER, this was my first mistake. Me, of all people, one who used to pay insurance claims. I remember denying claim after claim because the insured had not followed procedures.
Yesterday, I received a bill from the hospital for my 5 hour stay in the ER. Are you ready for this? Over $8,000. Luckily, I was not being billed for the $8,000. I was being billed for $680.00, which might as well be $8,000, because I don't have either. I couldn't believe it! $8,000 for 5 hours! Thank God they didn't admit me! The reason I should have checked my card? I no longer have a co-pay for the ER. My insurance only covers 70% of an ER visit. I know, right now you're doing the math and saying 30% of $8,000 isn't $680.00. I did the same thing, but am deciding to just keep my mouth shut. It'll take me years to pay the $680.00 off. What if I didn't have insurance? How in the world could I or anyone else who isn't a millionaire pay an $8,000 bill? Something has to be done! Not just for people like me but for the elderly and the people with no insurance. If it's not national health care, then something needs to be done about the vicious cycles of the the hospitals and doctors charging these astronomical fees because the insurance companies are paying less and less, and the insurance companies paying less and less because the they feel the doctors and hospitals are charging too much. I don't have the answers, but somebody needs to come up with them. No one should have to decide if they can afford to be sick or pick and choose which life-saving medications they should eliminate because they are too expensive. I  told my daughter who was there when I opened the bill, "If I ever have a heart attack, make the EMT's treat me in the living room because I can't afford for them to take me to the hospital." She thought I was joking. I wish I was.

It's a Sign!

Today is an anniversary of a sort for me. 13 years ago today I came home from a trip to find an empty house and a letter telling me that my marriage of 15 years was over. That day I began a journey. The last 13 years have been filled with extreme highs and extreme lows, but I have to say that the destination is a pretty amazing one. I have written several posts before about how the road may not lead where you want it to and how that turns out to be a blessing. Today's is no different except that I feel different today. Today I feel like I am on the verge of something great!
I am a firm believer in signs, not STOP signs or street signs, but things that come your way that affirm what you're thinking or nudge you in a direction. Today, in the span of one hour, I saw the following quote posted on Facebook by three different friends,  “And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom” ~Anaïs Nin For a long time I have been afraid to blossom for fear that someone would not think that my flower was beautiful. I have spent a good part of the last 13 years putting myself down, always under the guise of humor. I have been afraid to get out there and realize my full potential, somehow believing that maybe I didn't deserve it. After all, I had failed as a wife. There must be something wrong with me. Well, there was. I was stupid enough to believe deep down inside that a choice my ex-husband made was somehow my fault. Those nagging thoughts of "If I'd only been a better wife." "Maybe if I'd kept the house cleaner" "I let myself go" "I'm too fat"
NO MORE!
I am ready to blossom, and I can't wait to see the garden that becomes my life!

SING OUT, Louise!

Music has always been an important part of my life. I grew up surrounded by music. Both of my grandparents sang in the church choir, and I cannot ever remember a time that I have not sung. From age 3, I started in our church's cherub choir. My grandfather taught me all of the songs from The Sound of Music before I ever began school, and I sang my first solo, Away in a Manger, as a kindergarten student at St. Catherine's. I love music, and I love singing, and luckily, I have been told I have a talent for it. This statement must be true because I have actually been paid to sing on several occasions. The point is, music, and specifically singing is a huge part of me. All parents secretly hope that their children will like what they like, follow in their footsteps, so to speak. When my children were very small I wondered if they would possess this same talent and love for singing. Their father is also a very talented singer, and I imagined how awful it would be if they were not good at singing. All their lives they would be asked, "Can you sing like your mom or your dad?" and they would have to answer, "No" Fortunately both of them can answer that question in the affirmative. They both love to sing, and they CAN. My youngest, however, has a passion for it that one rarely sees in someone her age. In the words of her older sister, "She sings like an angel." I have blogged about her voice before when she had the opportunity to sing O Holy Night at the Christmas Eve service this past December. She has an amazing ear, and can pick up harmony in a snap. I had to know she was going to be a passionate singer because when she was very little, just shy of 3, and just starting to go to the bathroom on her own, I could hear her in there singing, never a recognizable song, just something she made up. To the delight of everyone whose heard her, she decided to expand her venue beyond the bathroom. As a 4th grader she was asked to sing at the dedication of her school's auditorium, she had two major roles in musicals before she ever left elementary school, and as a freshman in high school earned the highest score in the District as a second soprano. As she began high school this past year, she only wanted two things, to make the honors group in the school, Madrigals and to make the school's female Barbershop group, Beauty Shop. She accomplished both, and that's pretty rare for a Freshman to do. She is off on her first adventure today to attend Harmony College, a Mid-Atlantic conference for 4 days that brings together all things Barber Shop, with her other three Beauty Shop members. She will perform for the first time with the group on Saturday, and I wish I could be there, but I know that she will have an amazing time and I can't wait to see what other doors open for her. So "Sing out, Louise! Mama's rootin' for ya!"

The second kid always gets slighted.

Well, it's over! Graduation was last night, and the tassel has been turned for my oldest. Because this year has been filled with so many lasts for my first, I have written several blog posts about her. Perhaps it was my subconscious need to write as much as I could because I know that soon she will not be in my life 24/7. Who knows? I looked back, and I have actually written 7 posts about my oldest daughter. More than I thought I had. How many have I written about my youngest? 2. This brings me to the title of this post, The second kid always gets slighted. I know this for two reasons. 1. I have done the slighting! and 2. I have been the slighted. I am the baby, and there are scores of pictures of my sister as a child, and she outnumbers me in home movies at least 2 to 1. She has a baby book, and to this day, I have never seen mine (I'm pretty sure there isn't one.) So with having experienced that, you would think I wouldn't do it to my own child, but I did. My youngest doesn't have nearly the candid baby shots that my oldest does, and don't even talk about the embarrassing number of home movies she has. She does, however, have a baby book, it's not filled in totally, but she does have one. Her older sister's book isn't all the way filled out either, so I think I gain a few points here, but I digress. The point is I have done it again. The baby has been slighted, this time in number of blog posts. Why am I writing this? Because, once again, my "True North" has called me to task, and though I valiantly tried to defend my position, she is absolutely right! Who is my "True North"? My baby, my youngest, and in every sense of the word, me. So, I vow, from this day forward to try to be more even in my blog post distribution among my children. Now, where is that baby book and how in the hell am I gonna remember the date of her first tooth?

Pomp and ................

Today is a very special day in the life of our family. My oldest will graduate from high school. She is the first, she is the trailblazer. I have written many posts about her over this past year beginning with the first day of her senior year. This will not be the last post about her, I am sure, but it will be the last one that I write as we close the door on this chapter of her life, and yes, I am already crying while writing this, did you have any doubt? Last night I attended her Baccalaureate Ceremony. I didn't cry as much as I thought I would, but I watched her walk out of the gym as the seniors recessed, and I thought, "She looks like a grown-up." There's a reason for that. She is. Sometimes I think that she's been a grown up since age 6, and there have been times in the last few weeks where she seemed like my baby at age 18, but one thing is for sure, after today, she ends this period of her life where decisions are made for her, and she starts the journey on making her own decisions. I have every confidence that she will make the right ones. This past week someone approached me at one of the many Graduation events, and congratulated me and brought to my attention how much more this must mean because she was raised by a single parent. I had never thought about that until she said it, but she was right. It is hard to be a single parent, but I have had so many people to help me along the way. Without those people's help, I don't know how our little family of three would have turned out, and I am not sure whether I would be attending a Graduation this evening. I stopped to think about so many kids who come from broken homes who give up or act out. They end up with a drinking problem or on drugs or worse. Mine didn't end up that way. In the words of Lorelei Gilmore, "I got the good kid!"
This is a huge accomplishment, and I am so proud. I wanted to celebrate in a big way! But celebrating in a big way requires resources, and those are a little slim, so all I have to give her today are my words, PRIDE, GRATITUDE and LOVE! Indulge me today, dear daughter, and cut me some slack if some tears are shed as I close this door.

Dogwood China and Cherry Cabinets

I just recently moved. Now, over my 47 year lifetime I have moved many, many times. Specifically since I became single 13 years ago I have moved 7 times. That's almost moving every two years. I hope that my current residence is the place I will stay for many, many years to come, a place that I can actually call my own and make my own. This move will present all kinds of possibilities. I have never had beautiful furniture. I am always taking hand-me-downs or buying off Craigs list or Yard Sales. Two Saturdays ago I watched some of that hand-me-down furniture move in, but I also watched one of the most beautiful pieces move in, a piece I have never been able to claim until now. It is a gorgeous cherry china cabinet that I grew up with. My grandmother and grandfather owned it. I remember so often helping my grandmother set the table and pulling the china and special glasses from that cabinet. It has this amazing smell when you open the door. It's sort of sweet, but not too sweet, and it just smells smooth, if that makes sense. I stood there in front of that cabinet this evening, letting the smell waft over me as I opened the door, and unpacked the other beautiful heirloom I have from my grandmother, her dogwood china. I was a little panicked as we were packing the last loaded boxes for the move, as I had not seen that china for at least 3 years. My last move I had no occasion to really use fine china, so the box was never unpacked. Again, from my childhood, I remembered setting the table with that beautiful china. It isn't like most china patterns. It's base color is a rich cream, and the border is large white dogwood flowers, but not gaudy, delicate and illustrated like a watercolor painting. I loved that china, not only because it is beautiful, but it means something to me, holiday dinners and Christmas Circle meetings and just when we wanted to get fancy. I was so distressed when I thought I may have lost some of it. As was my grandmother's habit, she wanted to see her children and grandchildren enjoy her legacy. Several Christmases ago when I was still married she had this huge box for me, and I thought, what in the world did she buy? When I opened that box and unwrapped that first plate and saw that it was her dogwood china, I was so thrilled and extremely touched, and, of course, I cried.
I had unpacked several boxes here in my new home marked dogwood china, but I still had not found the dinner plates until tonight. I unpacked them, and reunited them with their rightful place, the cherry china cabinet. I will pull that china out and set my holiday tables for many years, and perhaps, one day, so will my grandchildren as they begin to build their own memories of dinner at Grandma's house.

Happy 100th Birthday Grammy

Today my sweet Gram would have turned 100. I am re-posting her birthday tribute from last year:
http://terrilynnemoore.blogspot.com/search?q=tippy+toe

Yep, she's mine!

Last night I sat in a very crowded, hot, sticky classroom. No, I was not in driving school for a speeding ticket. I was attending my daughter's performance in her Senior One Act. The Senior One Acts are something that her school does every year as an end of the year project for the Senior Drama IV students. They all pick a one act and cast and direct it. My daughter was in 3. She had done two the previous night, and last night was her final. She had told me about the other two, but not this one. It started off very funny, spit takes and all. The audience was laughing and seemed to be enjoying themselves. This was fun, light-hearted fare, and then something happened. I watched my kid stand up on that stage and deliver this incredibly touching, bittersweet monologue that had me in tears, not because I was proud, which I was, but because of the story she was telling. Because it was so hot and sticky in that room, the audience had been restless, but while she was delivering that closing speech, you could have heard a pin drop. When the play was over, a mother who was in front of me heard my conversation with my other daughter, and something I said indicated that I was Leah's mother. She turned around and asked if Leah was mine? I felt so honored to be able to say, "Yes, she is!" In that one moment, I realized, that I will be saying that for the rest of my life as I KNOW she will go on to do great things with her talent. This is her calling, this is her passion, and it shows. So indulge me as I do a little bragging, and I'll try not to beam too brightly the next time I say, "Yep, she's mine!"

When God Closes a Door......

The completion of this line from "The Sound of Music" is "somewhere He opens a window." My last blog post was very much about a door that not only closed, it slammed shut with not even a crack of light. I am a person that has lived my life with the belief that everything happens for a reason. My challenge comes when I don't see the reason right away. I believe that God has a plan for me. I have always believed that. The verse I keep focusing on this year is from the book of Jeremiah, Chapter 29, Verse 11, "For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord, plans to prosper and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." However, my impatient, human, need to be in control nature, demands the blueprint when really what I need to do is trust. I'm not saying that I should sit around on my hands and wait for God to bless me and run my life. I need to play an active, vital role in my life, but when things don't go the way I thought they would, I need to trust in that invisible blueprint. Eventhough God has opened that window time and time again in my life, when that door slams again, I panic! It throws me into despair, and worse, I start flying against the closed door like a trapped bird who somehow got into a house and is desperately trying to get back to the open air and freedom. Another quote I love from Helen Keller speaks to that very issue, "When one door of happiness closes another opens; but we often look so long at the closed one that we do not see the one which has opened for us." The very next day that we found the college door closed, a window opened to give us a great place to live that we had wanted. Does that solve the college issue? No, but it proved to me that there is "hope and a future" It may not be the future I planned, but I can certainly trust the Planner.

Promises, promises!

I work for a very prestigious institution of higher learning. I have worked there for almost 6 years. before working there, I had a job with the school system that I loved!!! Not only did it seem like the perfect job for me, but I got 2 weeks of vacation at Christmas, a week for Spring break and my summers off. Why, pray tell, would I even attempt to leave a job like that? It's the old saying, "The grass is always greener." or maybe "Things are not always as they appear." However, I was looking, mostly for more money. Hence my search. My search brought me to where I presently work. I remember well being interviewed and told the benefits of working for this institution. Webster defines benefit as : a service (as health insurance) or right (as to take vacation time) provided by an employer in addition to wages or salary. You usually don't have to qualify for a benefit. One of the benefits of working for this institution was college tutition would be paid for my dependents. WOW!! That's a HUGE BENEFIT! I, being the questioning creature that I am, had to clarify. Me: That's just if they attend here, right? Interviewer: Oh, no, we have a list of several colleges where tuition exchange is available. Skip to a week later. I am offered the job. Not quite the money increase I was hoping for, in fact not really an increase hardly at all, and I would be giving up 11 weeks of vacation. BUT, college tuition, how can I pass that up? That's just being foolish, Terri. So, eventhough my gut was telling me to stay where I was extremely satisfied and happy, my brain was telling me that I was being selfish, and that I just didn't want to give up my summers off. I took the job. Flash forward to 5 years later. My oldest begins to look at colleges, colleges that will be paid for with my "benefit". She wants to be an actor, so our search centers around a good school to meet those needs. EUREKA! A fabulous school with a great reputation is on the "Tuition Exchange" list. We visit and decision is made that this is the first choice! Now to apply and get accepted. The nerve racking day comes for auditions to get into the theatre program. Now we have to wait two weeks. Finally the letter comes, and she is accepted!!!! Everyone is elated, but there is still the issue of financial aid. In my brain, I am thinking, well tuition is taken care of (remember the benefit), we just need to make sure that we get enough financial aid to cover room and board. MORE WAITING!! Now, this is the part where I will warn you, if you are waiting for a happy ending, stop reading now. Imagine my surprise when I learn that my daughter is on a waitlist for the "benefit" of tuition exchange! WHAT??!! A WAITLIST?!! How can that be? It's a benefit! You don't have to qualify for a benefit. That's why I took this job, that's why I've been working here for almost 6 years. We decided to be optimistic! Maybe we wouldn't need the Tuition Exchange, maybe we would qualify for full financial aid. Let's go on as if we will get it, and deposit and fill out housing applications and register for Orientation. The financial aid package comes. We are about $16,000 shy of what we need, which to me might as well be $100,000. Well, let's still be optimistic! Maybe she'll get off the waitlist. MORE WAITING!!!!! And finally the news comes, "So many qualified candidates applied, ya-da, ya-da, ya-da....we will NOT be able to provide you with a tuition exchange scholarship." Oh, now it's a scholarship! Wait, I'm a little bit confused. I was told this was a perk of working here, a "benefit", but it's only a benefit under certain qualifying factors. Do I feel it's unfair? YES! Do I feel I was misled? YES! Do I feel I was promised something and then the promise was not delivered? YES! Can I do anything about it? NO! What I have to do is take away from this a lesson learned that if something sounds too good to be true, it is, and that there is always fine print. I just didn't expect my employer to keep the magnifying glass hidden.

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I spent an evening at the theater tonight. A friend of mine that I met last year when we did "Company of Angels" together, Lanaya Burnette, was cast in RTP's [title of show]. Richmond Triangle Players was running a special tonight for theatre professionals for 2 for 1. I decided that I would go with my daughter. I didn't really know what to expect. I no longer buy every new cast album that comes out of New York the way I did when I was in high school, and I haven't seen a show in New York since 1981. I had heard of [title of show], but had no idea what it was about except for the little synopsis on the Facebook events page. For some reason I thought it would be filled with old-fashioned campiness. Boy, was I wrong! It was edgy, and full of energy, and extremely contemporary. I'm new to contemporary musical theatre. I grew up with My Fair Lady and The Music Man. I remember when I was in middle school and I purchased the original cast albums to A Chorus Line and Chicago. I felt like I was getting away with something listening to the lyrics that contained the "words I wasn't allowed to say" peppered here and there occasionally in some of the songs. I saw the show tonight as a grown up, and I didn't have to go upstairs and listen to my album with my door closed for fear that I would hear my dad say I had to take the album back. I had the best time! I laughed and even cried a little. The cast is amazing and they work together like a well oiled machine, and the vocals are strong and blend together so well you'd think that these four actors really did write this show and worked on it for months and months. Daniel Cimo and Chris Hester establish a great rapport immediately with each other and the audience. One of my favorite numbers early on was "An Original Musical," I laughed out loud at Cimo's portrayal of  The Blank Page and Lanaya Burnette's rendition of "Die Vampire, Die" is humorous but thought provoking at the same time, and finally Georgia Rogers Farmer nails the power but also brings such a gentle sweetness to "A Way Back to Then" that I found myself wishing I had a tissue. The theatre wasn't nearly filled tonight, and that is a shame. RTP's production of [title of show] will be one that you will be sorry you missed, so don't take the chance. You only have until June 4th. Call for tickets!

I didn't always want to be a mom. When I was growing up, I never babysat, I never wanted to hold people's babies. It just wasn't my thing. When I met the person who would become my husband, we even talked about one of us making the decision to have surgery so we couldn't have children. I am so glad we didn't make that decision. I was married for about 8 years, and something happened I can't explain. A feeling just came over me. I wanted a baby. We started trying, and it took almost a year for us to get pregnant. We were so excited! We told everyone right away, and then at about 12 weeks, I lost that child. Losing a child before it's born is a very different thing. It's the death of a dream, a plan, a future. We were told that we could try again almost immediately, and 3 months later I got pregnant again. 40 weeks later, I had a beautiful baby girl. She was amazing, and being a mother was amazing! It's a role I'd never planned on playing, but one I'm so glad I took on. 3 1/2 years later my second little girl came into the world. It is no secret to anyone who reads this blog that I have spent most of their lives as a single mom. Not what I planned, but I am so glad that I have had them to make this journey with . They are not just my daughters, they are my friends. They love me, and they let me know it. No, it's not all sunshine and roses, but nothing worth having is. They are now 15 and 18, and one will graduate in 5 short weeks. She is starting on a new path that she will forge alone, but she will always have a part of me with her. Both of them know that I am there for them no matter what, and that they can always count on me. I could not ask for better children if I had written down every quality I wanted and handed it to God myself. So on this day to honor Mothers, I want to thank those two wonderful young women, and tell them that I am honored to have been picked to be their Mom.

All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing. ~ Edmund Burke

I write this post on May 2, 2011, the day after it was announced to the world that Osama Bin Laden was dead at the hands of U.S. Navy Seals. I have seen many reactions posted on Facebook about this monumental event. Most have been "thank yous" to our troops and general pride in America, but some have contained a tone of shame that we, as Americans, are celebrating today. Some have even compared us to the extremists that were dancing in the streets when the Twin Towers fell and 1000's of innocent lives were taken. There is a HUGE difference in celebrating the deaths of thousands of people who were attacked and killed in an unprovoked act designed to terrorize millions and celebration that the man who masterminded the plan to have 4 planes, also filled with innocent people, hijacked to crash into buildings for the purpose of making a statement is now dead. "All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing. " On that clear day in September, 10 years ago, it felt like evil triumphed, and if we had sat back and done nothing, it would have. WE DID NOT! What happened yesterday is called justice, and I am proud of our troops and our Navy seals that put their lives on the line so that EVIL could be vanquished. We are celebrating the victory over wrong, that those good men and women did not sit idly by while our safety and freedom were threatened. They put themselves in harm's way and some gave the ultimate sacrifice to fight this evil of Terrorism. The fact that the supreme leader of this movement has fallen is something that we claim as victory is nothing to be ashamed of.

And Forgive Us Our Trespasses.......

I was raised in the church. My sweet grandparents made sure that we were there every Sunday, and that I had my quarter to put in the offering plate. I can't really tell you when I actually learned the Lord's Prayer. It seems I've always known it. If you know it, near the end the line is, "and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us." Stop and think about that a minute, "as we forgive those that trespass against us." I have said that prayer more times than I can count. Do I really mean it? I ask God to forgive me in the manner that I forgive others. If I expect God to forgive me of my sins as I forgive others, why am I not more forgiving? A few weeks ago my Sunday school lesson focused on forgiveness. As each of us in the class shared some insight, I found myself saying, "When you hold on to something, an injustice or hurt someone has inflicted upon you, you are not hurting that person, you are only hurting yourself. That person doesn't care that you are angry or sad. In fact after they hurt you, they probably never gave it another thought." I heard myself saying those words, but I knew as they were coming out of my mouth that I had never followed my own advice.
Two weeks ago, my mother almost died. I received a call from my sister who had followed the ambulance to the ER after my mother had stopped breathing. It was just like every scene you see on television and in the movies. The family waits, not knowing anything, until those doors open and someone comes out to tell you the condition your loved one is in. I won't lie. I tried to be strong, but in my own head, I kept picturing the doctor coming out and saying, "We did everything we could." That didn't happen. She got better, and she is back at home, but it made me think. Anything can happen at anytime, and I don't want to spend one more day filled up with anger and hurt from the fact that my husband left me 13 years ago and all the struggles that has caused. If I spend my life filled up with anger, how is there any room for love, love for others, love for myself or love for God? I'd rather live the rest of my life filled with love. What are you holding on to?