It's Coming!

I went to bed early last night, well early for me, around 10:30. My body is used to barely 5 hours, so sleeping a full eight is almost impossible, but last night I did. If you're doing the math, 8 hours puts me up at 6:30. This week, thanks to a generous invitation by my sister, I am at the beach for Thanksgiving. The house is oceanfront, so there was a good amount of light in the room at 6:30. I checked my Weather Channel app on my phone,  6:56. I hadn't missed it. I quickly put on sweats and a sweatshirt to step out of my room onto the deck into the 35°air to watch the sunrise. There's nothing quite like sunrise at the beach. There was a thin line of clouds just above the horizon that had a pink hue as the sun teased behind them. I checked my phone, 6:40, 16 more minutes of waiting for the sun to appear. Standing in the freezing wind. Did I give up and go inside? No, I didn't.  I waited, my body huddled in a ball to keep warm, camera phone at the ready. I checked the time again, 6:53, 3 minutes. I looked out on the horizon, the to p of the ridge of clouds was on fire with gold. Standing out there alone, I got so excited! I actually said aloud, "It's coming!" I started to snap pictures as the sun rose, what seemed like, out of the ocean, and then I stopped to just watch it, right there in front of me. Let me say that again, I stopped to watch it. Today, the day after Thanksgiving,  for me, is the official start of the Christmas season.  The next  4 weeks will be jam-packed with all kinds of activities. Waiting for the sunrise today made me think how excited I used to be for Christmas. It was filled with things I wanted to do, not things I had to do. IT'S COMING! I'm really going to try this year to "stop and watch it," because, like the sunrise, it will be over before I know it, and I will have been to busy "taking pictures," to enjoy what is right in front of me.

That Could Have Been Me

Unless you live in a cave without any contact with the outside world, you know the name Hannah Graham. She is the UVA student who was reported missing more than 10 days ago. I have followed this case closely, reading every update that appears in my newsfeed. There are a lot of reasons for that, I suppose. 1. It's right up the street from me, not an hours drive away, in a town I've been to many times. 2. I've walked that mall where we have now seen surveillance video played and re-played hundreds of times 3. She is the same age of one of my own precious girls and not that much younger than my oldest. But until now, I have not really thought about writing a post. I read a post from another source, and it really got me thinking. This is tragic. It's a horrific situation, and I cannot imagine the Hell that her parents are going through right now. I am not sure I would be able to hold it together if it was one of my two cherished daughters that was missing. I do not know what the outcome will be. I fear as more and more days pass that it will not be good. The sad but true part of this is that this kind of thing happens all the time, and the more I thought about it, and after I read the article today, I had to say something. So here in my safe haven of "So...I Was Thinkin'" I will share my thoughts and feelings. Often times with tragedy we look for a lesson. We have to find something we can learn, some little piece of wisdom we can take with us to tell ourselves that the suffering produced some minute piece of something positive. I am sure that when this story first broke many of you, as did I, thought, what a stupid move. Why would she wander around dressed like that in the middle of the night drunk and ALONE? Doesn't she know what kind of world is out there? Doesn't she know that's dangerous? What was she thinking? Well, I'll tell you what she wasn't thinking. She certainly wasn't thinking that she would be the subject of every headline on every news outlet all over the US. She wasn't thinking she wouldn't make it home that night. She wasn't thinking that 1000's of people would be searching for her in the little college town of Charlottesville. You know why I know she wasn't thinking those things? Because if she was, she never would have left the party. She probably never would have taken a drink that night. In fact she may not have gone out at all. But here's the thing. She didn't know what the future held for her. None of us do! If we did, almost nothing would ever go wrong, but we don't. And most of us live with the foolish notion of That'll never happen to me or I'll be fine. I will go so far to say that we, especially women, will ignore our own minds screaming GET OUT!!! SOMETHING'S NOT RIGHT! YOU'RE IN DANGER! because we are afraid we are reading the situation wrong. This isn't really what I think it is. I don't want to offend anyone. I'm speaking from personal experience which is why I'm writing this post, and I want you to share it with everyone you know in hopes that they will not go out alone, or let their friends go out alone or get drunk or do anything that would put them in a dangerous situation.
I'm going to share something here that I have told very few people outside of immediate family, mostly because I made some colossally stupid mistakes, and I am embarrassed, and here's the important thing, and I am not being dramatic when I say this. I AM LUCKY TO BE ALIVE! Around 30 years ago, I answered an ad posted in the Classifieds of the Richmond Newspaper to apply with a modeling agency who was looking for Plus Sized models. I was asked to send some full body pictures in different outfits, formal, daywear, sportswear, etc. At the time I was married, and my husband took the pictures, and I sent them in, and a woman contacted me for an interview. I was beyond thrilled! Me! a Model! I had the address, and I was going that afternoon. These were the days before cell phones. I had to get to the interview, and I did not have time to call my husband to tell him I was going. I was given the directions, and I headed out. NO ONE knew where I was going. I told No One. I followed all the directions, and they were leading me into an apartment complex. If you were watching this story as a movie, right now you'd be thinking this looks sketchy. My brain told me that too, but I overrode it, and told myself perhaps there was an office building behind the apartment complex, and I drove on. There wasn't. I pulled up to the address. It was an apartment. Movie audience you is thinking right now, she's not going in there, is she? Once again, my brain said, this isn't right, but I overrode that thought and got out of the car to look for the modeling agency sign on the door (as if that would legitimize the situation) There was no sign on the door. It was a regular metal apartment door. If you're waiting for me to turn around, get back in my car and leave, you'll be waiting a long time. I knocked on the door, and a man answered. As I looked in, I was hoping the apartment had been converted to an office. It wasn't. The dining room table was directly in front of me, and there were salt and pepper shakers on the table. There was also no one else in the apartment, specifically, no women. Ok, get ready to groan, Movie Audience You.  I walked in , and he shut the door behind me. The first thing he offered was an explanation as to why I was in an apartment and not an office. They (the Agency) had found that office buildings were just not accommodating enough to do a successful photo shoot. The interview began. I was on the couch and he across from me on a chair. I was nervous. Remember what I said about our bodies screaming at us, but as the interview went on, I became more relaxed, and I told myself how silly I was being. This was a legitimate interview. He hadn't tried anything. He was asking the appropriate questions. Then he said they'd like to hire me. Wow! I'm going to be a model! Then he told me he just needed to get my measurements, and if I would step back into the bathroom and take my dress off because to get the most accurate measurements, they needed to be taken in my bra and underwear. He then walked out of the living room and back to the back of the apartment. Movie audience you is now yelling, GET OUT OF THERE! WHAT ARE YOU THINKING? My mind was telling me that too. I could have just gotten up and walked out the door. I didn't. I walked back to the bathroom and did exactly what he had asked me to do. I stood there in a Maidenform royal blue, bra and pantie set while a complete stranger took my measurements. When he was through, he asked me to get dressed and come out to the living room. As I closed the door and got re-dressed I felt sick to my stomach. I walked out to the living room. He was still in the back bedroom, and yes there was a bed in the bedroom. I yelled back toward the back of the apartment, "Do you have a phone I could use?" His reply, "Why, is someone waiting for you?" Me: "I need to pick my grandmother up from work." I called my grandmother to say I would be a little bit late. Before he came back up, I told him I needed to go. He asked, still from the back, if I wanted to finish the interview. I just repeated that I needed to go, and I left. The whole ride to my grandmother's office I could barely breathe. I felt stupid and ashamed and lucky and relieved all at once. It's that feeling you get when you're just about to cry, but you don't. They contacted me a couple times by phone to ask if I wanted to work for them. I declined. Here's the kicker. 2 years later I'm watching the news, and a picture comes up on the screen of "my interviewer" He had been arrested for taking indecent pictures of minors in his apartment. Anything could have happened to me that day. I could have been raped or killed, and no one would have known what happened or where I'd gone or if they would ever see me again. I could have vanished into thin air just like Hannah Graham. If we were all honest with ourselves, we all have a story like that. We've all ignored reason at one time or another about any kind of situation and later, we said, "Wow! I'm lucky to be alive!" Why did I share that incredibly embarrassing story of my extreme stupidity? Because I want everyone that reads this to learn to be smart and above all to take better care of ourselves and trust our inner thoughts and feelings. If you feel like it's wrong, It's Wrong! Don't find yourself in a situation you cannot get out of. Please don't be another story or headline on the news.

21 and 364 Days

At the beginning of this month I took a part-time job at a day school working as an assistant to 2 year olds to help make ends meet. The first day I walked in, the Assistant Director commented that I looked terrified. Truth be told I was. After all, I hadn't even been around a 2 year old in 16 years. That's a really long time, and I am not 34 years old anymore, but then she said something that was so true, "You'll be fine! They just need some extra loving." I have now been working there for 3 weeks, and I adore all of them. It thrills me when they see me in the afternoon and run to hug me, or hear them try to pronounce "Miss Terri" in their sweet little voices. They are amazing in what they do, and I marvel at how smart they are and how quickly they learn things. It has also make me think of my own daughters who are way past two but still my babies. One of those babies will turn 22 tomorrow. 20 years ago, she was the two year old. , and I was a stay-at-home Mom, and I was teaching her the alphabet on a Magna Doodle. I can remember sitting in the living room in the big ice blue recliner drawing each letter and asking her what it was, thrilled when she got it right, even when I mixed them up. I was already so proud! She was so gracious and thoughtful of others. At her 3 year birthday party dressed in a little red dress from the Disney Store with Minnie Mouse on the front and her long brown hair tied back in a half ponytail she was walking around the room with a bowl of potato chips almost as big as she was telling each guest, "Everyone, have a chip." I had taught her to do impressions, yes, you read that right, impressions. Mrs. Doubtfire saying "Helllooooo", Ray Charles, rocking back and forth saying, "Georgia, Georgia," and my favorite Clint Eastwood. We would say to her, "Do Clint Eastwood," and she would close her eyes until they were slits and say, "May my day!" She was good as gold. In fact, once I left her in time-out for 30 minutes because I got a phone call and forgot she was sitting there because she was so quiet and still. She has always loved Disney movies. My hand to God, when she was 3 months old, she laid on her stomach beside me on the couch and watched every frame of Beauty and the Beast. Anytime she was upset, all I would have to do is begin singing, ♪♫ Little town, it's a quiet village. Every day like the one before...♫♪ and she would immediately stop crying and just stare at me as I was singing. Now, tomorrow she will begin her 22nd year on this earth. So much has happened in these last 2+ decades. I am so proud of her still. She began her Junior year in college this year as a Theatre major and has already been cast as one of the leads in the Fall musical. She's really talented, and she knows what she wants, and I know she will go after it, and if anyone will achieve their dream she will. I mean, she has to, right? How can we waste such endearing talk show fodder for an interview? I can't wait to see what's around every corner for her, and I am so glad she lets me be a part of the ride! Happy birthday, Leanna Moore! Mommy loves you!

There's a Difference Between Vengeance and Justice

In the last 6 months 2 people that I know have gone through situations where someone has done something against them that is the very definition of injustice. I am not going to divulge details as I don't want to expose either of them as they are friends. Both are very devout Christians. I mention that fact not to say that Christians don't deserve anything bad happening to them or they shouldn't suffer or they should have special treatment. I mention that becuase I want to address the way both have reacted to their situations. In both of these instances and events in these people's lives, they, by every reasonable standard have been wronged. They are unquestionably in the right! There is no gray in either of these situations, but both have decided not to seek justice. They are leaving it "up to God." Now, I realize that I am stepping in a steaming pot of hot water right now, but I am puzzled by their actions. I am not presuming that God does not know what's best in either situation. I'm sure He does, but I also believe in a God that does not expect us, as His followers, to roll over and play dead waiting for Him to swoop in and claim justice. If someone has done wrong, they deserve punishment. We as humans need to abide by laws and rules, whether they are actual laws on the books or moral laws that decent human beings need to follow so that we can live in a civilized world. Yes, I know, "Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord!" But simply seeking restitution or requesting that the offending party do what is right is NOT VENGEANCE! Why do we allow someone to cause us harm or distress or leave us in a terrible situation claiming that God will take care of it. Maybe the way God wants to take care of it is to give us the strength and wisdom to take care of it. I will use myself as an example. When I and my two children were left penniless, and I do mean absolutely no money or job or even a car when my ex-husband decided to leave, I did not sit and say God will take care of this and do nothing. I couldn't! Somehow I needed to find a way for my children to eat and have shelter and care. I went after what was right and just. God certainly helped by providing me with a lawyer who took my case without charging me a cent. If I had not taken any action, I shudder to think what would have become of the three of us. What I did was not an act of vengeance. Vengeance would have been if I sought him out to do him harm. I went after justice. People should be made to do what is right. If not, where is the lesson in that? What consequences are suffered? We teach our children from a very young age right from wrong and that when we do something to others, we need to make it right. We do not let our children grab a toy from another child and as that child is crying say "God will take care of it." God is not going to reach His hand down and give that toy back to the child who had it first. If we do not intervene, child 1 is left crying and child 2 goes on believing that what they did was fine. Why do we suddenly forsake those rules as we become adults? Why is no one held accountable for their wrongdoing? Call me crazy, but I don't believe that Christianity is a "doormat" faith. I think my faith is an active one, and I will continue to pray for guidance and help to do what is right whether it be for me or someone else. I don't believe that God wants me to be some crazed vigilante, but I do not believe that He wants me to let people go and stand idly by while they do an injustice to me or someone else.

Listen to Your Heart

On July 28th I wrote a post about a little heart scare that I had, and my preliminary diagnoses from the doctor. Yesterday, FINALLY, I went in for my stress test. I have to say I was a little nervous. I'm in fair shape, but I've never had one of these before. I had visions of passing out or not being able to do it at all, or, the worst of all, what if I had to run? YIKES!!! I jokingly tell people I don't run unless some one's chasing me. But early yesterday morning I made my way to the Cardio Vascular Specialists and got all hooked up and started on the treadmill. If you've never had a stress test, a little explanation. You are exercising so that your heart rate will elevate. I was told that they needed to get my heart rate over 145. A normal resting heart rate is somewhere between 60 and 100. The reason they need to raise your heart rate is to see how your heart tolerates exercise. You start out easy at a slow rate and gradually they raise the incline and increase the speed. As soon as you reach your target rate you have to quickly lie down on a bed and they take ultrasound pictures of your heart. The first two stages, not too bad. The third was close to jogging, and it was becoming a little harder to breath normally. Luckily I reached my target pretty close into Phase 3, and I got to stop. The doctor looked at the pictures, and I was told that everything looked good. My heart tolerates exercise well, and that there was no sign of heart attack or any active blockage. Excellent news! So what was the jaw pain back in July? Not sure. The good news is it wasn't a heart attack or a warning sign of anything else heart related. Maybe it was just the aches and pains of getting older. The important thing is that I got it checked out. We have to listen and pay attention to our own bodies, and, unfortunately, sometimes we have to push to make sure the doctors are doing everything they are supposed to be doing, and they are not becoming the DISMISSERS. In the past few years, I have had 2 friends who were diagnosed with cancer, but both had to push further for treatment because they knew something was wrong, something wasn't normal. My generation tends to just accept whatever we are told about our medical condition. I think, well he's the doctor. He should know. But there are incompetent doctors just like there are incompetent teachers, plumbers, lawyers, and the list goes on and on. Think Frank Burns from M*A*S*H. So, listen to your heart or your stomach or your breast or your brain. Because nobody knows your body better than you do.

WOW! That's Cold!

The world I live in now is not even close to the world I grew up in. When I was growing up you were considered technologically advanced if you had a solar powered calculator and a digital watch. Now, in literally the blink of an eye, you can be talking with someone on the other side of the world, and not only talking with them, you can see them, face-to-face via a computer or even a phone. We can know anything that's happening in the world in minutes simply by sitting down at our desks and looking at a website. Through sites like Facebook and Twitter, we know people's thoughts and feelings, even celebrities. We have adopted a whole new vocabulary with this technology run world: hashtag, Youtube, tweet, Skype, facetime, social media and going viral to name a few. It is the last two in the list that I want to talk about today. Ever since Facebook appeared on the scene 10 years ago, it has grown to something that has become a normal part of our everyday lives. It is the premier social media site. If you are on Facebook, and if you aren't, I would venture to say you are one of very few, you have reconnected with old friends, connected with new, and had the opportunity to share your thoughts and feelings with potentially 1000's of people in minutes. Talk about "six degrees of separation." With the start up of Youtube it became possible to share virtually anything with "the world" on video. I remember once being in absolute awe that at 2AM in the wee hours of a Saturday morning that I could go to my computer, log on to Youtube and pull up a video on how to finish a knitting project. Right there in the middle of the night, a complete stranger was teaching me how to finish my scarf. Youtube has been used for everything from make-up tutorials, to self-promotion in the entertainment industry to posting music videos. It's brought instant fame to the average Jill or Joe, and helped music groups like Pentatonix reach their millions of fans at the unbelievable cost of NOTHING! That's right. It's FREE to post on Youtube. It is free advertising. Now what enables the video I post today to be seen by millions tomorrow? It has to do with something called "going viral," meaning someone shares it, who shares it with someone else, who shares it with someone else, and so on and so on. You get the idea, it catches like a virus, and before you know it, the video has been seen by millions. Combine something going viral with Facebook's social connections, and you have an unbeatable combination!
In recent days this unbeatable combination has taken the form of something called "The Ice Bucket Challenge" People started making videos of themselves getting drenched by a bucket of ice water, but before being doused they are challenging friends to also take the challenge, and if not to donate to an ALS foundation. Some are asking people to do both, and then they get ice water dumped on them or they dump it on themselves. Sound silly? Maybe it is, but it has gone viral, and everybody is doing it from the advanced ALS patient who started it to celebrities like Oprah Winfrey, Jack Black and Adam Levine to sports stars and medical teams to just plain folks like me. And at last report, donations have topped 10 million dollars. You read that right, 10 MILLION!!!! Some people have commented on Facebook on some of the videos posted asking what pouring ice water over your head has to do with raising money for ALS - the debilitating disease that attacks nerve cells in the brain and the spinal cord? In fact, some of them are pretty negative. The act of the ice water dousing does nothing, no more than the act of running cures breast cancer or wearing a red ribbon on your lapel cures Aids. What it does do is raise awareness. As these infectious videos of people challenging friends to take the challenge spread, the world is learning about the disease and are obviously inspired to donate. $10 million is a pretty good measure of success! So to the naysayers, I say this. 1) Why do you care? 2) If you think it's silly, stop watching it! 3) It's not hurting anyone! In fact it's helping...A LOT!!! One of my mother's best friends was always the life of the party until ALS took her life away. That was over 40 years ago. Maybe in another 40 years or hopefully less the 10 million + dollars that's raised because of a silly little challenge will make this viral craze obsolete. We can only hope! If you'd like to see me get doused paste the following address in your browser, and donate if you're able!  https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10152610398580199&set=vb.618970198&type=2&theater

Smile Though Your Heart Is Aching

When I was in high school and hanging out with my theatre friends, we would entertain each other for hours quoting routines from a comedy album called "Reality, What a Concept." The comedian we were imitating was Robin Williams. He had a unique style of just spilling out every thought, and all of it was comic genius. I would often share how amazing it would be to see the lightning speed at which his brain was working. I first saw Robin Williams as an extra player on a revival of "Laugh-In" Shortly after that he appeared in an episode of one of my favorite shows called "Happy Days" Richie Cunningham is visited by an alien named Mork from the planet Ork. The character sparked a spin-off called "Mork and Mindy" I never missed it. He delivered lines so fast, and they were so funny, that I missed half of them for laughing so hard. Then along came a film called "The World According to Garp" This was quite a departure for Williams. It was not a comedy. He proved his acting chops, and role after role followed. Some comedies but just as many serious roles. In "Good Morning, Viet Nam" he found a vehicle to use both his comedic and dramatic talents, and it garnered him an Oscar nomination. He would receive 3 additional nominations for "Dead Poet's Society," "The Fisher King," and "Good Will Hunting." He won in 1998 for "Good Will Hunting" A whole new generation, including my own children, got to experience his comedy when he voiced The Genie in Disney's "Aladdin." I cannot imagine what the lead animator went through trying to bring his manic, improvisational style to life. Then came "Mrs. Doubtfire." Of all of his films except "Aladdin" this is the one I've seen the most. When I'm channel surfing and catch it on a channel, I will usually stop and watch it from whatever point it's at until the end. Yes, he's funny, but also extremely touching and insightful. I've seen him interviewed countless times, and I always have pity for the interviewer. They pretty much just have to sit back until Robin comes back from whatever rabbit hole he's jumped down. My favorite of all interviews I've ever seen was "Inside the Actor's Studio" He takes a pink scarf from an audience member and does a solid 4 and 1/2 minutes of hilarious improvisational comedy. The amount of talent is beyond anything I have ever seen and probably will ever see.
Robin Williams died today from an apparent suicide. He was 63 years old. The reports say he had been struggling with depression, and had entered re-hab recently for his drug addiction. He was always very honest and open about his drug problems early on. He was quoted as saying, "Cocaine is God's way of telling you you are making too much money." He knew the dangers and he knew the consequences, but life is not cut and dried. There are no easy answers to anything when depression is involved. This fabulously talented man who spent his life making other people laugh was struggling. My heart aches that such a bright light is gone from this world. O, captain, my captain, rest in peace.

And in the End....

We're all going to die. That's the plain and simple truth. No one lives forever, so death is no surprise. It is how and when we die that troubles us. I remember seeing a made-for-tv movie when I was 10 about a woman who was dying of cancer. I can't remember the entire movie, but I think it was probably the first time I had ever heard of cancer. My family has no history of cancer, so I had never dealt with a relative having the disease. I do remember thinking, even though I was only 10, if I ever get cancer, and they tell me there's nothing they can do, I'm not going to have chemo therapy because I want to live what little time I have left not being sick as a dog. Now, let me interject here. I am not saying that no one should have chemo therapy who has cancer. I know how much good it can do. I have seen it help my friends. In this particular film it was a matter of you have very little time. We can extend your life a little bit, but you'll be sick for the rest of your days kind of thing. I decided then that I didn't want THAT! 40 years later, at age 50. I still feel that way. At least I say I would make that decision, but, truth be told, I don't think any of us can make a decision like that until we hear those actual words, "There's nothing we can do." I have been catching episodes of a show called Chasing Life. It centers around a young woman in her 20's who has been diagnosed with Leukemia. As she deals with having cancer she meets a young man who has a brain tumor. He tells her that he has opted not to have surgery to try and remove the tumor because of the risks of going into a coma or living life as a vegetable. He wants to die with dignity and his mind in tact. That poses the question is it life we want or quality of life? Right now, without the threat of death hanging over my head, I would choose quality of life even if it was shorter. But....ask me again if living a few extra months, even in a weak and sick state,  would allow me to see my daughters get married or my first grandchild born, and I may have a different outlook all together. I found out today that someone I know has heard those words, and it made me think, and it pissed me off, and I wasn't going to give it the Mary Sunshine treatment and look at the bright side. Let's be honest. When someone tells you you are going to die. This awful thing you have is going to kill you, there is no bright side, and frankly it pisses me off more when people try to offer phrases like, "You've lived a full life," or "5 or 10 more years, that's pretty good!" I'm sorry! No it's not. It's SHIT! I know people mean well when they say these things, but sometimes it's just better to own what's wrong and face it head on, and know we don't always have to put on a brave front. It's okay to be mad as hell that you have cancer and it's going to rob you of your life. I mean, come on! You have cancer! I didn't tell my friend anything except that I was sorry, and I was here for him. And isn't that all we really want in life is someone to be there for us in good times and bad? It doesn't make the rough times easy, but it sure as hell makes them a lot less hard!

You're Not Funny! Get Off the Stage!

I have this friend. His name is David, and he is the most talented person I know. We met each other as freshmen in high school back in 1979. He, like me, was a theatre geek. Even as a 9th grader, he was a phenomenal actor! We met when we were both cast in "Godspell" in our freshmen year. In the next 4 years we would do 8 shows together. I've played his wife - Pippin, his ex-wife - Play It Again, Sam, his love interest - Little Mary Sunshine, his mother twice - Dark of the Moon and Butterflies Are Free and his victim - Doing a Good One for the Red Man. David is someone I always had chemistry with on stage. I remember I used to love doing improv with him. We knew exactly how to feed each other and play off one another. We had drama class together in our sophomore year, and we were given a situation to play out. Only we knew the situation, the audience (the class) just watched what we created. The situation was this. You are husband and wife. The wife has convinced the husband to kill his boss in order to take over the company and you are leaving the scene of the crime...GO! Every improv I had ever done before had always been silly or funny...not this one. I still remember it. It was like we were performing a scene written for us. It was really powerful! Recognize the plot? It's "Macbeth." We didn't know that when we were given the scenario, but we pretty much played it just the same. Of all the roles I played with David, my favorite had to be as Florence Baker, mother to the blind Don Baker in "Butterflies Are Free" It was the fall show of our senior year. If you don't know the play, Florence is pretty much of a bitch and insanely overprotective of her blind son who moves into his own apartment for the first time. Flo is the villain of the piece until the very end, and there is this incredibly touching, revealing scene where she explains to her son why she is the way she is, and we realize it is all out of love. This will sound corny, but every time I played that scene with David, it was like magic. The timing, the takes, the pace...perfect! We took that particular scene to competition and won 1st every round, and actually won fifth place as a team in the Forensics competition. The other teams there had at least 20 people or more competing. David and I were it for our team. He competed in Forensics in high school, and he went to Nationals every year! He is extremely adept at drama, and his comedic skills are superb. He is quick witted and sarcastic and so, so funny! Whenever we are together I spend most of my time laughing. He's also smart as a whip! He graduated from William and Mary, and shortly after moved to New York. He has been a New Yorker since then. At present, he is a published playwright, and has received numerous accolades - all well deserved. His most recent accomplishment? An original opera will be performed later this year at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts for which he was the librettist. I am so proud to call him my friend! We see each other about once a year, twice if I'm lucky, and I look forward to those times, and I am always sad when they end. Why have I chosen now to write this tribute to my dear friend? On July 19th he turned 50, and I was getting ready to go into tech for 42nd Street, so this is the first free moment I've had to walk down memory lane and tell the world just how much I cherish our friendship. Happy birthday you sweet, wonderful man!

Aww...That's Nothing?

I have never been one to be cryptic. I always lay my cards on the table! And since I am a firm believer in prayer and positive support from friends, I want to share. Earlier today I posted on Facebook that I was anxious about a doctor's appointment. Lately little things have been happening, physically, that I have dismissed. I'm a big dismisser! I tell myself, "That pain is just indigestion." or "That can't be what I think it is. It'll go away soon." And it does, and I keep going. I jokingly say that I don't have the time or the money to be sick. A little over a week ago I climbed 2 flights of stairs. When I reached the top I was a little winded. I thought that a little odd because I have probably been exercising regularly for about 2 months, walking about a mile a day. The shortness of breath wasn't really what concerned me. Accompanying that was this radiating pain in my lower jaw, and it lasted for about 5 minutes. Then it went away, and, guess what! I dismissed it. Although this dismissal nagged at the back of my mind as I have read places and even seen on television that jaw pain can be the sign of a heart attack. If you've read this blog before or you know me, I am a firm believer in signs. This past Friday I was participating in a workshop through my office an STRESS. Our keynote speaker was a cardiologist. She talked about heart disease briefly and she described, almost verbatim, what happened to me on the stairs. When she was finished, and we had a break, I pulled her aside and described what had happened. She said that that concerned her a little bit, and she felt I needed to see my doctor just to make sure nothing was going on. I also have family history of heart disease on both sides. And stress has been through the roof for me lately because of finances as I just lost $500 a month in income when child support stopped for my youngest. I was struggling before that loss, so you can imagine. Add to that not getting any sleep trying to open a show in a week, and it was just like a NEON sign flashing. I made an appointment Friday afternoon for this morning, Monday. I have just returned from that appointment, and there was some good news. My EKG was normal. Yay! That means my heart isn't damaged in any way. My blood pressure and pulse were great. Heart rhythm was sound, and lungs were clear. All great things! However, because the jaw pain was a concern for my doctor as well, I have been referred to a cardiologist, and I will probably be having a stress test. In the meantime, I'm still exercising and taking 1 Baby Aspirin per day. I am definitely glad to know that my heart is not damaged. Ask my children, I tend to go straight to worst case scenarios. I know I have read things where people have a mild heart attack, and don't have it diagnosed until a big one hits, and then they are told that they had had one earlier that they probably dismissed. So...I'm paying attention to things, and I am trying very hard not to be THE DISMISSER. Maybe that should be my superhero name. I would appreciate prayers,  good vibes, and good thoughts to accompany me on this medical journey. I also share in case anyone reading has the "dismisser's" disease. Better safe than sorry. I will update here as I know more.

"This is Jim Rockford. At the tone, leave your name and message. I'll get back to ya."

Certain actors just captivate you! All they have to do is come on the screen and your eye is drawn to them. James Garner was one of those actors! He was a master of the comedic take and the definition of smooth. Older generations probably first knew him as TV's Bret Maverick and then Jim Rockford on "The Rockford Files" I don't remember watching "Maverick," but I do remember "The Rockford Files." I wasn't really interested in that show, I kind of considered it a "guy's show." When I hear someone mention "The Rockford Files" I always think of a scene from the comedy, "Fraser" between Daphne and Martin discussing the show "The Rockford Files" and how upset Martin gets when Daphne confides to Martin that he reminds her of Rocky, Jim's father. Martin had always fancied himself as the smooth PI, James Garner played, and Daphne's observation struck quite a blow to Martin's ego. I first became enamored of James Garner when I saw him in one of my favorite movies, Victor, Victoria. He plays a straight Chicago Kingpin, who surprisingly finds himself attracted to a female impersonator. The female impersonator, unbeknownst to the public, is actually a "woman pretending to be a man pretending to be a woman" played wonderfully by Julie Andrews. Garner plays the handsome, suave, Man's man to a tee which makes it all the funnier when he finds out the woman he just saw perform this amazing, sexy musical number is actually a man, well, sort of. Confused? Find it and watch it! You won't be disappointed! About 3 years later a movie came out called "Murphy's Romance" starring Sally Field and James Garner. In the movie, two men are vying for her attentions, one, young and very good looking and the other, older but very handsome and charming. The older character is played by James Garner. I was 22 when I saw the film, but I remember thinking, I would pick the older guy. There is a scene in the film where James Garner's character finally kisses Sally Field.

Later in an interview Field said it was the most gratifying screen kiss she had ever received. James Garner received an Oscar nomination for his role in the film. Today's generation probably knows James Garner best as Ryan Gosling's character living out his twilight years in "The Notebook" If you're going to watch that one, get out your tissues. He also stepped back into TV in one of the most difficult ways. In 2003 he joined the cast of "8 Simple Rules" It's star, John Ritter, had passed away suddenly and unexpectedly. Instead of the series going off the air, the show continued and dealt with the death of the actor by dealing with the death of his character on the show. James Garner came in as the Grandfather, and played what he played so well, the man to go to when you needed advice, compassion, or sometimes just a good kick in the pants to send you in the right direction. 

James Garner died yesterday at the age of 86. He will be sorely missed.

The Give and the Get

It's been almost a month since my last post, and what a crazy month it has been. My baby graduated high school and left immediately on a choir tour through Philadelphia, PA, and returned to start working her first job. My oldest started a new job and a new relationship, and I, myself, am rehearsing for a show. Life has been hectic to put it mildly! I don't think I'm alone when I say that when our lives are rushed we tend to be a little more stressed. We're rushed from here to there. We don't take any time for ourselves, and the end result, for me, anyway, is irritability, and, frankly, I get bitchy with most of the people around me. I mentioned that my youngest graduated high school. This was certainly a happy event in our lives and cause for celebration, but it also brought with it anxiety. I have known this day was coming, and have dreaded it because along with her graduation from high school came the end of her child support down to the fact that the last payment for June was prorated because she graduated 3 days before the middle of the month. Forget the fact that she still lives with me. She will be living with me as she pursues an education in the fall. I would never kick her or her sister out of my house. But the law says 18, so in their father's eyes, his responsibility has ended. This is not a diatribe about the much needed reformation of child support laws. I only pointed that out to paint the picture of the mood I have been in for the last month. I have really been down, for lack of a better word. I saw something today on social media that really made me take a step back. Briefly, it shows a young man asking people in a pizza place for a slice of pizza because he is hungry. He's not dressed particularly shabbily. He just looks like a regular kid. I will say he's a little abrupt in the way he asks, and the two people they show that he approaches tell him , "No." The next part of the video shows two other young men approach a homeless man on the street and present him with a full pizza. He thanks them, and they move on. The same young man from the restaurant then approaches the homeless man and, again, asks for a slice of pizza. The homeless man shares a slice with him without hesitation. He truthfully has NOTHING except the clothes on his back, and he shares with a total stranger expecting NOTHING in return. Two statements are superimposed over the video, "We make a living by what we get. We make a life by what we give." Seeing a man who had NOTHING  give so freely really made me re-evaluate the way I look at things. I often think I barely have enough money to pay my bills and eat. How can I give what I don't have? Now, I am not one to compare suffering. I think it's wrong. Suffering is relative. If you are hungry and have nothing to eat because you didn't grocery shop this week, it does not make you less hungry because I remind you that there are people who are starving and have no money to buy food. It may make you feel bad about complaining, but it does not change the fact that you are hungry. Seeing this video didn't change the fact that I am struggling financially and wish there was a way to crawl out from under bills. It did however make me see my struggle in a different light. It made me appreciate the countless times I have been helped by family and friends and even strangers. It made me realize that it isn't always about running around and working myself to death for the getting. LIFE is about the giving. I guess you could say that my financial life is a struggle because I did make my life about giving. I am sure there are a lot of people who would look at my life on paper and see that I have been single for 16 years and think, surely you should have been able to "move up" in those sixteen years so that life at 50 would not be a struggle. And.....if I had made my life about getting for those 16 years, I probably would be at least comfortable right now, if not a little ahead of the game, but I didn't. I made a commitment to giving my time, as much as I could, to my children. That meant taking the jobs where I didn't have to work nights, the jobs where I was off in the summer with them, neither of which pay a very big salary. And what have I gotten in return? A LIFE! A life full of love and beautiful relationships with both of my daughters who have grown up to be amazing young women, something I'm not sure would have happened if I had spent all of my time getting instead of giving. It's just like the story of the butterfly. Without the struggle, the beauty never materializes. Did I like struggling? No. Am I glad I struggled? Yes.

Feed the Good

About two months ago, I wrote a post about an incident in the news of a young boy stabbing and killing an honor student at school because she would not go to prom with him. It was called The Monsters We've Created. I made a promise to myself when I started this blog that I would never write unless I was inspired to write. Sometimes tragedy or outrage inspires, but, sometimes, like today, pride and goodness inspire. I am an emotional patriot. I tear up when the National Anthem is played. I am touched when I see the pictures of the elderly veterans saluting the flag as it passes by in a parade. I will absolutely fall apart at a Military Funeral when the flag is presented to the loved ones left behind, and if Taps is played, forget it! I am done! So today when I read the story of Cpl. William (Kyle) Carpenter, I found there were tears slowly rolling down my cheeks. I will not retell the whole story here as you can read it from the link provided, but in a short summary, Kyle was awarded the Medal of Honor yesterday. He is 24, the youngest living recipient of the medal that has only been awarded to roughly 3500 men since its creation during the Civil War, 150 years ago. The act of bravery, putting himself between a grenade and a fellow soldier, happened in 2010. That means when Kyle made that choice he was 20 years old, barely out of high school, and not old enough to purchase or drink alcohol. In my opinion, a boy. How amazing that this very young man made such a selfless choice in a world that is all about ME. What's in it for ME? How will this benefit ME? I'm not doing that, I might get hurt. They can fend for themselves, it's not MY problem. But he did make that choice and saved the life of another. In yesterday's ceremony when the medal was presented to Cpl. Carpenter by President Barack Obama, Obama said this, "If any American seeks a model of the strength and resilience that define us as a people, including this newest 9/11 generation, I want you to consider Kyle..a shining example of what our nation needs to encourage." Has our culture created monsters? Yes, but we have also created and nurtured young men like Kyle, and all too often we focus on the tragedy and not the triumph. Hearing Kyle's story makes me believe in a future for this country, for the world. We just need to focus on nurturing the good, the compassion, the empathy and respect. There is a Native American legend of a story told to a grandson by his grandfather. He tells the boy of 2 wolves raging against each other inside of him. One is evil and  the other is good. The grandson asks the grandfather which one will win. The grandfather replies, "The one you feed." We need to , as a parent, as a nation, as a world, start feeding the good. Strive to embody the characteristics of Cpl. William (Kyle) Carpenter that led him to make the choices he made that day, and I am sure every day of his life. It is the only way we will survive!

Keep Reaching for the Stars

When I was growing up, things were so much different than they are now. Music was then and still is now a big part of my life, but when I really began to listen to pop music I was probably in 4th grade. That would have been around 1974 or so. Being that it was 1974, if you wanted to listen to music, you tuned into the local radio station. I am so old that when I first started to listen to the radio regularly, we listened to AM. The  one I listened to most was WLEE. I can remember those days of sitting and just waiting for your favorite song to come on. Since we couldn't get on the Internet and pull up Youtube or sign on to iTunes and purchase whatever song we wanted for 99 cents, it felt like you hit the jackpot when those tunes hit the airwaves. I remember how thrilled I was when I got a cassette recorder that taped directly from the radio. We would sit for hours waiting for our favorite song so we could press PLAY and RECORD simultaneously to tape it to have to listen to at will. You could purchase music in the form of a 45, short for 45 RPM or revolutions per minute. It was a small vinyl record about the size of a desert plate with usually the "hit" on one side, and the "flip" side had another song by the same artist. The reason the radio was so popular was because there was no way to take music in the car unless you happened to be rich back then and had a cassette player in your dash. Needless to say, I spent many hours listening to the radio and the music of the day, the songs you heard on American Bandstand every Saturday. Along with daily listening, there was something really special to listen to on Sundays, American Top 40. This 3 hour program counted from 40 down to the number 1 song of the week. It was hosted by Casey Kasem. My sister and I never missed AT40, and a big highlight of our years was Casey's countdown of the top hits of the whole year. It was usually played on New Year's Eve, and we would be down at my Aunt Beulah's waiting for them to play the number 1 song. Some of the ones I remember, Don't Go Breakin' My Heart by Elton John and Kiki Dee, Rock the Boat by Hues Corporation and who could forget You Light Up My Life by Debby Boone? Because we were such avid fans, Casey Kasem became a friend every week for 3 hours. He had a great voice that was so easy to listen to, and it always felt friendly and comfortable. Because of his wonderful voice he also voiced several cartoon characters, the most famous being Shaggy of Scooby-Doo fame. Casey Kasem passed away a few days ago. He was 82. I am sure many, as I do, feel they have lost a childhood friend. Because of AT40 and his cartoon work, generations knew him. In fact when I told my girls, 21 and 18, that Casey Kasem had passed away, they both questioned, "Shaggy?" Casey signed off of every American Top 40 broadcast with the same phrase, "Keep your feet on the ground, and keep reaching for the stars." He did reach for the stars and captured them. Rest in peace.

First, Let Me Take a Selfie

Last week at my daughter's baccalaureate service, one of the speakers addressed the issue of technology in his speech. He talked about the fact that 30 years ago when he graduated high school, there were no iPads, no iPods, no Internet, and no cellphones. He then made a joke with the last item listed that without cellphones there were no "selfies." Now, I am the first one to admit that I am definitely challenged in the selfie taking department, my girls, however are experts. But, as bad as I am at taking them, I wish I had had the technology to do so when I was in high school or all through my childhood for that matter. Why? Today is Father's Day, and I lost my dad almost 7 years ago. I wanted to post a picture on Facebook of me and my dad together, and found I really don't have that many pictures of Daddy and me together, even the old fashioned kind that had to be taken somewhere to be developed. My dad was not in front of the camera a lot. I guess a lot of that falls on the fact that he was probably the photographer most of the time when I was growing up. The few pictures that I do have of my family of 4 (Me, my sister, my mom and my dad) are when I am much older and usually taken at weddings like the one I included with this post. That makes me sad. My dad was a very handsome man, and I treasure the pictures I do have of him especially since he's gone. I am extremely grateful to have several pictures of my dad with my girls. And more so that they have the memories to go along with those pictures. Even though we lost daddy way too soon, my girls had the opportunity to really get to know and love him. When they look at pictures of themselves with their Papa, they remember, and it isn't just some picture that someone has told them, that's you and your grandpa. I think about my dad today and how much he would have loved the technology of today and really gotten into it. He would have marveled at the speed of being able to obtain knowledge in a matter of seconds at your fingertips with the touch of a button. Truth be told, he probably had the idea in his head for some of the technologies we enjoy today as he was always inventing, he just never took it to the next level. I miss him, and his crosswords, and his Reader's Digest, and his vocab quizzes and his Jumble. I miss our conversations, even our heated ones, and I really miss his laugh! Just recently I found an old cassette tape that was recorded about 40 years ago, and I can hear my dad laughing on it. That was something I'd forgotten the sound of. I was amazed just how much my laugh sounds like his. Happy Father's Day, daddy! I wish you were here to take a selfie of us laughing together.

I Wish......

In less than 12 hours my baby, my little girl, will walk across a stage and shake the Principal's hand and be handed a piece of paper, and in about 90 minutes, 13 years of classes, and papers and homework will all come to an end. How is this possible? This is going to sound so cliche, but where does the time go? I swear it was just yesterday that I was worried that if I got a new job that I had interviewed for that I might not be able to watch my baby get on the bus for her very first day of kindergarten. I can still see her in that denim, jumper and purple striped shirt with her, as she has dubbed it, her Dora the Explorer haircut. So much has happened in these 13 years. Lots of ups, a few downs, but always, we went through them together. I'm not going to turn this post into a bragfest. I have written many times about how proud I am of her accomplishments. What I will make this about is what I wish for her. I wish that she will always see how incredibly beautiful she is, and no matter what, that will never change because her beauty shines from the inside. I want her to realize how very talented she is and be confident in what she has to offer. More than anything, I want her to be happy with her choices in life and love and relationships. She has so much to offer as a friend, a wife and, yes, even a mother, someday...NO RUSH, and I mean that. I wish that she will always know that I am here for her no matter what, even if she thinks that what she's going to tell me will make me mad or disappointed, I want her to know that she can tell me ANYTHING. I hope that she will always look back on her childhood as a happy one even with its financial struggles and being raised in a single parent home. I hope that she will look back on the mistakes I have made and remember that most of the time I owned up to them and apologized. I hope that she will remember that I didn't just hear her, I listened to her. More than anything I wish for her true success, the kind that comes from doing what you love and doing it well. So, my sweet girl, as you enter this next phase of your life, make the choices that make YOU happy, even if everyone around you tells you you are foolish. You are so bright, and you, and only you, know the best path to take. Thank you for letting me be on the path with you these past 13 years, and as you now walk ahead, know that I am right behind you. Love you hug you!

What Rhymes With Duck?

Seventy-five, the diamond jubilee, 3/4 of a century, milestone. Today the number 75 belongs to my mom. She was born on this day in 1939. I often joke that I can remember my mother's age because she was born the same year that "The Wizard of Oz" (my all time favorite movie) and "Gone with the Wind" were released. What stellar films to share your birth year with, but I digress. My mother was born Peggy Anne Meintel to Margaret Chapman Oliver and Alfred John Meintel. She was their second child having an older brother, Alfred John Meintel, Jr. She grew up in Canton, OH but moved here to Richmond, VA, in her tween years to stay with my aunt as her mother was having major surgery. She would tell me stories when I was little about how she was scared to tell anyone who she was at school because her name, Meintel, was clearly German, and Germans weren't the most popular in America in the early 1940's. My mom was a teenager right smack dab in the middle of the 1950's, a decade my generation glamorized with musicals like "Grease" and the television show, Happy Days. From the pictures I have seen of my mom at that time, I fancy her a bit of a rebel. She didn't have the high pony tail like every other girl, she had a ducktail. She went away to school for her Junior and Senior year to PEACE college in Raleigh, NC. All the pictures I've seen of her, she was a beauty, and still is for that matter. Fast forward a bit. In the late 50's she was working for a company called National Cash Register or NCR for short, and one of the cash register repairmen fell for her. That man was my dad, Ralph Jackson Moore. In 1960 they were married, and that proved to be no easy task as they had both had previous marriages and many pastors refused to marry them. What a difference 54 years make, huh? In two years they had my sister, Jenna, and I came along on Halloween day in 1963.
So, if you ask my sister, she thinks I'm a freak because I remember things in major detail, sometimes down to what I'm wearing. I remember a lot of things about my mom from my very early childhood, as early as age 3. I remember driving down to Florida in our brown station wagon, me and my sister laying down and sleeping in the back as we left mega early in the morning. We stopped at some restaurant to have breakfast, and I have a memory clear as day of my mother sitting me on the back of the open tailgate of the station wagon changing me from my pajamas into a Peanuts White sweatshirt, a pair of dungarees, as she called them, translation: blue jeans, and a sailor hat with the brim turned down. I remember her always having spiced apple rings at Christmas dinner because I liked those. She sang to me a lot when I was little. The song that really stands out to me, oddly, is Here Comes Santa Claus. She always put the tree up and decorated it on Christmas Eve, and she was a great cook! We spent most weekends with my grandparents, and I can remember coming home on Sunday nights and taking in the smells that were wafting out of the kitchen of whatever she had cooked for her and my dad. My favorite? Hamburgers, gravy and rice. I had those leftovers many a Monday morning for breakfast. One of my absolute favorite memories involving me and my mom is, ironically, not the best situation for me, but it's one of those, we'll look back on this and laugh one day kind of memories. I was about 7 years old, and my mom, my sister and I, were shopping at the A&P, a grocery store in our neighborhood. We were coming down the dairy aisle, and I asked Mom if she would buy me some canned whipped cream. She said no. I trailed along behind my mother and sister making up my own cuss words. Now, I must insert here that my family did not use cuss words, I had only heard the occasional damn, and my mother's personal favorite when things weren't going right, hell's bells, but none of the biggies! I decided this day to make up words that rhymed with duck. You see where this is going, right? "Duck! Muck! F**k!" My mother wheeled around so fast, and I knew from the look on her face that I was in big trouble, but I had no idea what I'd done. Of course her first inclination was to ask, "What did you say?" So, of course, I repeated it right there in the aisle of the A&P right next to the Hostess snack cakes. I don't remember a whole lot immediately after that, but I do remember when my dad got home, my mom had to write the word down to tell my father what I had said. They swore I heard it from someone, but I truly had just picked the wrong letter combination.
In spite of my raucous language, my mother decided to keep me around, and we had many, many years of great memories. She has been there for me in some of the most difficult times in my life. She was the best Grandma my girls could ever have, and there are too many valuable things to name that she has taught me, and I will forever be grateful. Happy Birthday, Mom! Have a duckin' great day!

Tonight I Am Sad

There is a song from Wicked that as soon as I hear the first few notes of the introduction, I start to cry. The song is For Good. The beginning lyrics from that song come to mind tonight. They are: "I've heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason bringing something we must learn, and we are led to those who help us most to grow if we let them." This afternoon I found out that a wonderful man from my church passed away on Monday. He had been sick for some time, but he was still very young, only 61. His name was Rick Riviere, and the reason he "came into my life" was because he was my daughters' Sunday School teacher. I can count the times on one hand that we actually had a lengthy conversation, but in those few times he made a huge impression on me. He was that kind of person. You knew that every word he spoke to you was sincere and the truth. Both of my daughters adored him as a Sunday School teacher. His concern and passion for sharing his faith with young people was evident. I know he made an impact on my girls! Today, I was sitting in my office at work, and the news came by email. When I read it, I began to cry. And as most of us do when we lose someone we begin to think of the connection we had with them and the memories we share with them. This situation was no different, and as I rode home from work, I thought of another song by Ray Boltz called Thank You, and the tears started again. The particular verse that I thought of goes like this:  
"He said friend you may not know me now
And then he said, but wait
You used to teach my Sunday School
When I was only eight
And every week you would say a prayer
Before the class would start
And one day when you said that prayer
I asked Jesus in my heart

Thank you for giving to the Lord
I am a life that was changed
Thank you for giving to the Lord
I am so glad you gave"

Rick, I know that there are lines of people all around you right now thanking you for changing their life. I know you changed mine.

Another Kind of Mother

In about 20 minutes Mother's Day will be over. I have had a wonderful day filled with precious time with my youngest and reading lovely tributes that brought tears to my eyes from my oldest away at college, but this post is not about my role as a Mother. It is about someone else's. Over the past two years I have had the incredible fortune to be able to work pretty consistently as an actress. This is wonderful, but it comes at a price. When you work as an actor, you do not have the luxury of taking a vacation day to do something you need to or be at a family event, or, in my case, attend a concert or two of my daughter's or be at a first year college orientation. Luckily I have been blessed in my life with someone who was more than willing to step in as my substitute. I have to be honest, it's hard to give up that spot, even harder for me because I am a single mom. My kids are all I've got and I don't really have to share them with anyone, especially as they have gotten older. I also have their full support in my acting endeavors which makes it a little bit easier, but I do mean just a little bit. In the past 2 years, this person has stepped up to be the "mother" for my girls at college orientation, district choir, Fall and Holiday concerts, and she was even there for my youngest's first official date, all while I was on stage entertaining people. My girls love her dearly and she them, and there is not anything she would not do for them. That woman is my sister. SO today, on Mother's Day, I want to say Thank You for being the mother for my girls when I couldn't be. They appreciate it, and so do I, more than you will ever know!

Suddenly Audrey

Saturday evening I was driving, and I felt a little numb (emotionally not physically for those reading this who are concerned for my safety) I was feeling maybe a little blue, but not really sad. It was just weird. I guess I was feeling Magenta, as Blanche Devereaux from "The Golden Girls" would call it. The week prior had been a tornado of frenzied activity as my baby girl was in her last rehearsals leading up to her final 3 shows in High School. I was helping with make-up and hair, so I was right there with her every night caught up in all of it! And then it was all over. I guess that's what I can blame the Magenta feeling on. You know how you feel when a television show you've followed for years finally ends? You've spent years with these people and watching performances that move you and make you laugh, and then that fateful day arrives when you realize I'm never going to see this again. I'm not doing very well at expressing this. I have talked about my youngest in blog posts before. We are extremely close! I have bragged about her singing and acting before, but this was different. Each night I was backstage with her right before show time, and behind the false eyelashes and platinum blond wig, she was her same old self, joking and laughing with her friends, getting frustrated with me because I wasn't styling the wig exactly the way she wanted it, and anything else that's uniquely her. Then I would leave to take my place in the audience to watch the production, Little Shop of Horrors. When Georgi walked out on that stage, she was Audrey, voice, mannerisms, walk, totally transformed. And then she opens her mouth to sing. WOW! Now, let me stop here to say that I am not surprised by her performance at all. In fact I have come to expect it because, plain and simple, she has a God-given talent for all of this. I wish I had been as good as she is when I was 18! Maybe I would have had the courage to GO FOR IT, as they say. Here's the thing, she doesn't realize just how good she is, and that natural talent, like hers, is rare, and that some day it will open huge doors for her. And I guess that's what made me have that numb kind of zenned out feeling, the realization that I was not going to get to see that phenomenal performance any more. It was a moment in time, and now it had passed, and I wasn't ever going to have that moment again. Now, that is not to say that she will never perform again. I know she will, but this one just hit me hard because it is the end of an era, and soon all things that have anything to do with childhood and growing up will be gone. And, yes, do you even have to ask, I am crying while typing this. So, thank you so much, Georgi, for letting me share in this wonderful experience, and seeing you become "Suddenly Audrey" I will miss her, and I know you will too.

With Each Day There Is Another Chance for Hope

Yesterday I wrote a post about the "monsters we have created." Today, as is often the case, I was lucky enough to witness something quite the opposite. This morning I got up at 7AM on a Saturday to travel up Route 64 to make it to Harrisonburg, VA, by 11AM to see a concert. Was it a rock star? No. My favorite Accapella group? No. It was a group of high school students, about 200 of them, and my daughter was among them. It was the Virginia All State Choir concert. Before my daughter left on Thursday for the 3 day rehearsal process, she gave me a copy of her schedule. It was grueling! The end product, though, was amazing! They were focused and created a beautiful, harmonious sound! They all had to go through a difficult audition to earn their place on that stage today. Before the concert began, one of the music faculty from the host high school addressed the very full auditorium. Coincidentally he had been a very active member of the youth group I co-lead about 20 years ago. He said something that lifted me out of the very despondent attitude I had yesterday. He talked about students who are in the creative arts, and how important it is that we provide support for those programs. He said that when you see the wonderful dedication that all of these students have to create something so special, it gives us all hope. And just like that, tears rolled down my cheeks, and that's exactly what I felt, hope and pride in the child I had raised and every student on that stage. Did it change anything that happened yesterday? No, but it did allow me to see that for all the bad in the world, there is also good.

The Monsters We've Created

Just when I think I can't see or hear about anything worse than the sadness that already exists in the world, today I read that a 16 year old girl was stabbed to death in the halls of her high school allegedly because she turned down a request to go to her school's prom. She was an athlete and a scholar, and she had her whole life ahead of her. She went to school this morning just like every other morning, and her life ended. What has happened? I am amazed that any child these days can even function in school having these horror stories hanging over their heads. What kind of generation are we raising that they have no regard for human life, even their own? When I was in high school, and yes, I realize that was more than 30 years ago, but the worst thing I had to worry about was taking a test I hadn't really studied for. I was never afraid at school. I knew my share of assholes and jerks and drama causers, but I was never afraid for my life. Stop and think about that for just a minute. School has become a place where our children can get killed. And I'm going to probably ruffle a few feathers here, and I am not trying to stir up a debate. This is just my observation, my opinion. Banning things is not going to help. We need to start raising our children to respect others and respect themselves. How someone could so easily take someone else's life without any regard or thought of consequences to the young girl, her family, himself or his family. I'm not saying that there is a simple solution to this out of control problem, but what I am saying is that we have to start at the beginning as parents as mentors. We need to teach at the very start that there are consequences to our actions and stop making excuses for bad behavior. If we excuse small things, that leads to letting bigger things go, and soon we have created the monsters who think nothing of stabbing a fellow student because things didn't go their way.

♪♫ If You're Ever in a Jam, Here I Am ♫♪

I am late with this post as I had wanted to post it on her actual birthday, April 17th, but Easter kind of got in the way. Last Thursday, my best friend turned 50. I turned the corner on that milestone 6 months ago, and she was right there to share it with me which is no surprise, as she has always been there for me. She is my best friend. Now, a lot of people say they have many best friends, but I can't get on board that train. If we really searched ourselves and were truthful we could all pinpoint one person that good times and bad are the one person we know we can count on. They know EVERYTHING about us, and they are still our friend. In fact they have probably been there for several of the most embarrassing moments of our lives. My best friend is no exception! I met her in my first year of middle school, 7th grade in 1976. I firmly believe that middle school is the seventh level of Hell. We are thrown together in a totally new environment where we have to change classes and remember locker combinations and the evil of all evils (cue ominous music) change for gym class. Stir into that pot a big helping of hormones, and you have the recipe for chaos and disaster. Because of this lethal combination, I think this is when we form our strongest bonds with friends as we are clinging to each other for survival as we navigate the dangerous waters far from the protective Armada we called elementary school. My middle school was a campus style school, so as we arrived each morning we would have to wait outside leaning against the wall of our homeroom. This is where I first met Lisa. I can still see her, long blond hair, glasses. I don't even remember how or what caused us to meet, but we became fast friends and spent most of 7th grade inseparable. We even had a crush on the same guy. Remember that thing about embarrassing moments? She and I shared a major one in Middle School. We had both been cast in the Drama Club's production of "Little Women," she as Meg and me as Jo. When opening night came we had never been through the whole show, not even once. I'm not even sure we had read the script all the way through. To this day I don't know how we got through it. I think we actually just made up the ending on the spot. We laugh about it now, but back then we were terrified. On to high school and we had Honors Biology together. I have no idea what I was thinking signing up for that torture. We sat at lab tables, and when we would have tests, the class was asked to move to the ends of the table so we couldn't cheat. Many times Lisa and I would read the first question silently and simultaneously look up at each other with that all too familiar look of horror indicating that neither one of us had the slightest idea how to answer the question. I barely squeaked by in that class. We did shows together,  created a French meal together and had sleepovers, and she even went on vacation with me. We spent countless days at Kings Dominion and acted out their show "Hooray for Hollywood" in her living room. Did I mention embarrassing? Over the last 38 years we have had our ups and downs. We even went through our first pregnancies together as her children are only 3 weeks younger than mine. At the darkest time in my life when I suspected that my marriage was about to fall apart, I called her, and after working a weekend shift at her job, she came over to sit with me and try to distract me from the hell my mind was going through. When my marriage was finally over, and I had nothing, she and her husband showed up with huge amounts of food to help us through. When my dad died and then shortly after that, my grandmother, she was right there with food and helping hands at the house as my sister and I were busy with other arrangements. We can go months without seeing each other and get together and pick up conversation like we talked on the phone the day before. I know she will always be there for me, and I for her. She's beautiful and smart and fun, and I love her, and I am sure we will be friends until we're so old we can't remember each other's names, and I am so glad! So..Happy Birthday, BEST FRIEND! Here's to 50 more!

Forgive and Forget?

So, it's been quite a while since I penned anything for this blog, but I read something today that has got me a little riled. A local pastor was indicted by a Texas Grand Jury last September on two counts of aggravated sexual assault on a child younger than 14 and  two counts of indecency with a child.  If you read the article it goes into detail of the nature of the charges. Personally, they make my skin crawl! But that isn't what made me want to write today. A local church (not the church where he was pastor, he resigned from there) has a flyer advertising their Good Friday service. At the bottom of the flyer it lists, along with photo, several pastors who will be speaking, and smack dab in the middle is the grinning face of  Pastor Pedophilia. Why, you may ask? That is my question! Not just why is he preaching? Why is he out on bond? He was arrested last May. And why is he allowed to be here in Virginia when he is awaiting trial in Texas for his disgusting behavior? And, ultimately, who in their right mind would ask him to preach in front of a congregation? If I were a betting woman, I would say, given that it's Good Friday, there will be some grandiose confession and a message about how Jesus dies for ALL. For all you Christians ready to pounce on me right about now, let me say this. Yes, I believe, as a Christian, that Jesus did die for all. We are all redeemed by the blood of the lamb and forgiveness is there for anyone, and I do mean anyone, that truly repents. However, that does not mean that we should be placing these people in front of the masses to "share the good news." I am not exactly sure why he is still free, but if convicted he will be behind bars for the rest of his life. So, while we've got him, let's let him lead a flock....NO!!! The article further states that after his resignation, the board discovered that he had "multiple extramarital affairs" with church members and people in the community. Wow! What an upstanding guy! I am sick and tired of people hiding behind the robes of Jesus to excuse their abhorrent behavior. And people wonder why the church gets a bad rap. Should we forgive? That's what the Bible says, but I haven't seen any repenting.

Ladies and Gentlemen..THE BEATLES!

I was just over 3 months old when The Beatles appeared in America for the first time on The Ed Sullivan show on February 9, 1964. I only remember seeing The Beatles once on TV. It was The Smothers Brothers Show in 1968, and for years I thought it was "Let It Be", but apparently it was "Hey Jude" What can I say? I was only 4. I can't say I was a gaga Beatles fan. They broke up when I was only 7, but I did grow to love so many of their songs when I was growing up. Whether you loved them or hated them, you cannot deny the impact they had on music and the world. It would take me forever to list the hits they turned out. They were so versatile. Their music ranged from classics like "Till There Was You" to the hard rock of "Revolution" "Yesterday" is one of the most covered songs in history with over 2200 recordings. They proved themselves to not just be a flash in the pan. They are one of the first groups I remember hearing that used classical instruments in their songs, the gorgeous string quartet in "Yesterday," the chorus of french horns in "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band." the percussive cellos in "Eleanor Rigby," one of my personal favorites. They were innovative and cutting edge, but above all, they were true musicians, writing their own music. It has been 50 years since they were introduced to America, but their music is just as popular with today's generation. Both my girls, 18 and 21, love their music.
I was fortunate to catch the Grammy's tribute special to the Fab Four. It was filled with rock legends old and new to perform their own versions of some of the most beloved songs, but the part that absolutely blew me away were the performances of Ringo Starr (73) and Paul McCartney (71) as the show's finale. They both rocked the house, but Paul McCartney in particular was unbelievable! He didn't shy away from the high notes, and he wailed on the guitar like he was 20. He closed with "Hey Jude," and my youngest remarked that it sounded like she was listening to he iPod. What a gift they gave the world. I feel so lucky to have enjoyed their music through my life, and look forward to enjoying it for many years to come!

Forever Young

When I was little probably one of the first people I saw in movies who made me think, "Hey, I want to do that," was Shirley Temple. I can remember watching her movies on Saturday mornings back when we had 4 channels to choose from. She started her career in 1931 at the age of 3. In the films I remember most she was probably no more than 5 or 6, about the same age I was. In reality the films had been re-released, and she was actually 41 when I was watching her tap and sing as an adorable little girl. Shirley had a rare quality, something you don't see very often these days in child stars. She was extremely talented, yes, but she wasn't obnoxious and annoying as so many children with fame thrust upon them tend to be. She was the "biggest star in the world" at a very young age. What an awesome responsibility  She danced and acted with some of the greats of the 30's era, Buddy Ebsen, Jack Haley, Alice Faye and one of my hometown greats, Bill "Bojangles" Robinson as well as many others. With her signature golden ringlets and impish smile, she charmed her way into the hearts of generations. My own children were enthralled by her as well as I am sure many will be in the future. She was a true American Icon, and she will be missed but remain in our hearts forever young.