What if this were you?

It's late at night, and you are startled awake by the ringing of your cell phone. At first your brain doesn't recognize the sound and incorporates it into some dream you are having. When you finally wake and answer, the words you hear on the other end plunge you into a nightmare. Your friend, your very best friend has been in a car accident, and you were listed as the emergency contact. Can you come to the hospital right away? You bolt out of bed, cursing the darkness as you try to find something to wear. You run down the stairs and out to your car speeding to the hospital and praying all  the way there. You find a place to park and sprint to the doors of the Emergency Room. The nurse at the desk tells you she'll check with the doctor and someone will be with you shortly. You collapse in a chair near the desk and repeat over and over, "Please don't let them die, please don't let them die!" As you wait there it seems time has stopped. You begin to think of all the things you have shared together, the happy times, the sad times. You try desperately to think of the last words you spoke to each other. You rack your brain, "Did I say I love you?"
You hear the sound of the double doors leading to the area where your friend is swinging open. You see a doctor and hope he is coming to tell you what's going on and more importantly that you can see your friend. He stops at the desk to talk to the nurse, she points to you. You breathe for what seems like the first time since you were awakened by the call. You think, "Now, I'll get some answers! Now, I'll be able to see my best friend, hold their hand let them know I'm there. They won't have to go through this alone." The doctor comes over. You immediately stand up and ask how your friend is doing. Instead of responding with, "they're fine, they need surgery, it's touch and go," you hear, "What is your connection to the patient? Are you family?" You pause a second before you speak, and for an instant, you think about lying and saying "yes", but you don't. You tell the doctor that you are close friends, very close friends. And then his words hit you like a tidal wave, almost knocking you down, "I'm sorry. I can only discuss the patient's condition with family." You try, in vain, to explain that your friend hasn't seen their family for years. They don't get along. They had a falling out. You are the only "family" your friend has. You are the only person your friend would want to be making decisions about them. You are the one that your friend would want by there side right now. The doctor tells you he's sorry, but he cannot discuss anything about the patient's condition with you. The family has been contacted and until he speaks with them, you will not be able to see the patient. Whatever he was saying after those words, you never heard because all you can think about is being with your friend. Are they even conscious? Are they fighting to hold on? If you could just hold their hand, see them, somehow let them know that you are there. How frustrated would you be in this situation? It's not fair, why can't they see that? Why are they so blind? In actuality, you are not just friends, you are partners. You have been together for 20 years. The person you love most in the world is going through this horrific experience alone because you happen to live in a state that refuses to recognize how much you mean to each other. Now what's right about that?

"Goober says, Hey" "Hey to Goober"

I grew up as a TV kid! Even with only 3 main channels and Public Broadcasting, I was usually watching something. I had my favorites, just as I do now. That Girl, The Dick VanDyke Show, The Carol Burnette Show, and Jackie Gleason to name a few. I am old enough to have watched these when they originally aired, but I also watch re-runs of these any chance I get. Few shows hold the distinction of being able to watch them over and over again without tiring of them. The Andy Griffith Show was one of those shows. The cast was headed by, of course, Andy Griffith, but what makes the show a classic and a joy to watch once or 10 times is the ensemble cast. Don Knotts - Barney Fife, Ronnie Howard - Opie Taylor, Jim Nabors - Gomer Pyle, Frances Bavier - Aunt Bea, Hal Smith - Otis Campbell, and a host of other recurring guest stars. One of those cast members was George Lindsey who played Goober Pyle, cousin to Gomer, the local Filling Station attendant. George Lindsey first appeared as Goober on The Andy Griffith Show in 1964 and stayed with the show and onto the sequels until 1971. Goober was a simple man who was happy with his job at Wally's Filling Station as a mechanic. I loved to watch Goober. George Lindsey had a way of portraying the character that made you smile every time you watched him, mostly because Goober was always either grinning or laughing at someone else's joke or telling a corny one himself. Who can forget his impression of Cary Grant or his signature  jug head style beanie? He was one of the characters that made Mayberry a town people would love to live in.
George Lindsey continued his career as Goober for many years on the popular show Hee Haw. I personally have a fondness for an animated character he lent his voice to in the Disney film, The Aristocats, a floppy eared beagle named Lafayette who was paired with a hound dog named Napoleon, voiced by another great character actor, Pat Buttram. 
The world lost George Lindsey yesterday at the age of 83, an actor who was content to be just what he was and played it, oh so well! Although we've lost the actor, because of the wonderful characters he created, generations will know his humor and his grin forever.

May Day! May Day!

Today is May 1^st, commonly known as May Day in elementary school circles. I attended St. Catherine’s Private School for girls most of my elementary years. We commemorated May Day by going outside and dancing with ribbon or streamer in hand around the Maypole with our classmates. The beautiful, pastel bands fluttering in the wind looked so bright and vibrant against the lush green of the field. It seems like something so small, but it symbolizes, to me, the pure freedom and innocence of being a child unaffected by what the world will think if you are standing in a field with a ribbon in your hand skipping around a pole. I wonder if they still keep the tradition alive. Life didn’t seem so rushed then, I wonder has it gone by the wayside as another May Day tradition from my childhood has. Directly across from the school is a church called St. Stephen’s. I remember as a child my grandmother and grandfather would take us to St. Stephen’s May Day celebration. I don’t remember everything about it. I recall there was always a “White Elephant” sale (translation: Yard Sale Inside). My grandmother, being the bargain shopper she was, loved that. Me? Not so interested. I’m sure there was probably a bake sale, but the thing that my sister and I looked forward to the most was the “rides” They were not carnival rides like Merry-Go-Rounds or Tilt-A-Whirls. These were rides from a time gone by. Growing up in the city, I had never really seen a horse except in a field as our car would pass by on the highway. The only time I had ever seen one up close was when I was three, a man walked up into our front yard with a pony and offered to photograph us sitting on the horse accessorized with the cowboy hat and bandana he carried with him. I had never ridden a pony or horse, though, just sat on one. St. Stephen’s always had horse and ponies that for a small fee, I think $1.00, you would be placed on the horse and a handler would walk the horse the length of the church grounds (about 2 city blocks) and back. This probably sounds boring to the Youth of today, but my sister and I were thrilled and looked forward to it every year. One year, alas, we arrived and no horses. L We were disappointed, but when we went to the place that we usually got the “rides” we discovered something new and different in place of the horses, antique cars, or as we called them, old timey cars. Most of them were from the 1930’s. This was cool. Children were lined up to have a “ride” around the neighborhood in a car from way before they were born. All the cars were beautiful, but the one that every kid (my sister and I included) wanted to ride in was the one with the rumble seat.

If you don’t know what a rumble seat is, on the back of the car where a trunk would be was a door that opened and as you pulled it up, it created an upholstered seat. I can remember standing in line hoping that the timing would be just right that when it was my turn to ride, the car that would pull up was the rumble seat car. Of course if it wasn’t, I would still ride in another vintage vehicle, but I would get back in line until I could ride the Rumble seat car at least once. So simple, but one of the coolest things I’ve gotten to do in my life. If I ever become famous and I am riding in a parade, maybe I’ll request a rumble seat car to ride in. Sadly, St. Stephen’s no longer has its May Day celebration. As with so many other things, perhaps it became too expensive and attendance declined falling prey to video games and amusement parks, but I wouldn’t trade those times for anything. So today, on May Day, I challenge you to go out and do something that brings you back to the innocence and fun of your childhood. I’ll guarantee you won’t regret it!

By the way, Houston was a swingin' date!

I wear many hats. I am a mother, a sister, a daughter, a friend, and many other roles have emerged over the course of my 48 years. Other than mother, the role that I most enjoy is "Actor" I guess you could say I have been an actress longer than I have been anything else, except for daughter and sister as those roles were bestowed upon my birth. Actor, however, was a role I chose. A choice I do not regret for a minute! From the time I took my first professional acting job at the age of 10 until now I have had some amazing experiences and wonderful opportunities! I have made some lifelong friends, and it's true what they say, "There's no people like show people!" Yesterday, I ended a 15 week run in a show called Always, Patsy Cline at Barksdale Hanover Tavern. Briefly, the play is based on a true story of a fan, Louise Seger, my character, and her love of Patsy Cline music, and her encounter with her in a Houston Honky Tonk back in 1961. I was cast in this show last fall after attending an Open Call audition. For those of you who don't know, an open call is like a human assembly line. Hundreds of actors are there, and you wait, and wait, and wait until you are called to go in, and then you have a minute to show what you can do. You leave and then wait for the phone to ring. This particular wait was pretty long, and I was sure I hadn't been cast. "Louise" was a role I really wanted for two reasons. ONE: The show was being directed by Joe Pabst, one of those lifelong friends I mentioned above, and one of the finest directors I've ever worked with. TWO: Debra Wagoner was cast as "Patsy" I have known Debra since high school, and she has always had an amazing voice. If I was going to do a show where my character spent a good portion of time listening to someone sing, there couldn't be anyone better than Debra. After doubting myself over and over and, despite the encouragement and positive bolstering up from my girls, still assured I did not get the role, I got the "official" offer. I was through the roof ecstatic!! Over the course of a month we would rehearse and put this show on it's feet. I have to say, I was a little intimidated. Debra had done this show several times before. The other pretty scary thing to a 48 year old's brain was that I had pages and pages of dialogue to learn and most of it in monologue form to the audience (translation: if you forget a line, you're screwed!) I even had myself believing this would be my swan song. I was too old to do this anymore, so much so, that after my kids saw the show, they were mad at me for all the worry I put myself through. Looking back, I was pretty much of a fool. The show opened to great reviews, and through the 15 weeks we played to mostly full houses every night. Debra and I met countless people that stayed after to tell us how much they enjoyed the show, how happy it made them, how much they laughed. As Debra said, "That's what makes this worth it." That's what being an actor is about, entertaining people, bringing them joy. For 15 weeks Thursdays through Sundays, I was honored and privileged to be able to do that. As an actor, there are times when you are on the stage, and you can feel to the very core of your being that magic is happening. Always, Patsy Cline was one of those shows. Yesterday was hard for me. My daughter, who was also Debra's dresser for the show, had to keep reminding me of funny quotes from a movie we both love, Malibu's Most Wanted, as a focus, so that when I made the final speech in the show about the time "Louise" hears the news of "Patsy's" untimely death in a plane crash, I wouldn't melt into a puddle of tears. Luckily, I made it through with those thoughts and constantly telling myself that the show wasn't over, we were just going on hiatus.
I also write this post as a thank you. To my "Patsy", Debra : Thank you for all of the laughs in the dressing room, the encouragement and confidence in me and my talent, the make-up tips, the help with "Pepper" and most of all for the deeper friendship we have formed, and yes I am crying while typing this.
To Joe: You gave me my first featured role in this town back in 2003 when you cast me as "Mother Abbess" in The Sound of Music. You also gave me my first lead that same year as "Charlotte Hay" in Moon Over Buffalo, my favorite role I have ever played (although "Louise" is running a close second.) Thank you for trusting me enough to give me all the roles you have given me over the years, but especially this role as I would be sharing the stage with your wonderful wife. Thank you for always being in my corner and believing in me as an actor!
To everyone else involved in the show on stage and off, thanks for helping make that magic happen every night!
Hope to see you again soon! Love always, Terri Moore!

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

I haven't blogged in a while. Things in my life have been a whirlwind! but I couldn't let this event go by without saying something. Last week the world lost an American Icon, Dick Clark. I suppose, depending on your generation, Dick Clark was something different to all of us. I'm sure many of us, myself included, first met Dick Clark on American Bandstand. I watched AB every Saturday at noon. For those of you not familiar, which I cannot imagine that would be anyone, Bandstand was an American show dedicated to promoting rock and roll music of the day. It usually consisted of a studio full of young teens dancing to the latest hits, and a "live" performance (I put live in quotes because I'm pretty sure they always lipsynched to their own recording) by one of the popular recording artists of the day, a spotlight dance and the ever popular rate-a-record, "It's got a good beat, and I can dance to it." The show was hosted by Dick Clark from 1956 until it ended in 1989. He began hosting at the age of 27, but he looked like he was 17. Dick Clark seemed eternally young, ageless. He did so much for music. Many artists, I'm sure, owe him for the explosion of their careers. Others may know him as the host of what began as the $10,000 Pyramid, a game show that paired celebrities with everyday people in a game of describing and guessing with the final round being a pyramid of dollar amounts that if guessed correctly from the clues given and completed, the contestant won $10,000. I, personally, loved this show and watched every day on summer vacation. You might have known Mr. Clark from his co-hosting spot next to Ed McMahon on TV's Bloopers and Practical Jokes. This was the precursor to Ashton Kutcher's "Punkd" The show usually targeted a celebrity with an elaborate practical joke set up, and the other parts of the show were outtakes from television shows that were currently running. I watched that show too. The fascination with this show was seeing celebrities as they really were. There's really no need for that today with tweets and social media we see celebrities as themselves all the time. Dick Clark also created the American Music Awards, but the one thing that Dick Clark did that I'm sure every reader of this blog has seen at least once was help us ring in the New Year. New Year's Rockin' Eve was born on December 31, 1972. Produced and hosted by Dick Clark, it consisted of a live broadcast of the Madness from Times Square in New York City on New Year's Eve. Artists performed each year, but what I tuned in to watch was Dick Clark do the countdown when the ball dropped. I probably spent more New Year's Eves with Dick Clark than my ex-husband.

Dick had a genuineness about him, and unmistakable charm that wasn't phony or put on. It didn't hurt that he was very handsome and stayed handsome all through his twilight years. When he died last week, the headlines read "America's Oldest Teenager" He truly was. He was a pioneer, and did more for TV and music in this country than we will ever know. He spent years in our homes and our hearts, and he will be missed!

It's Friday, but Sunday is Coming!

Looking at my newsfeed on Facebook today, I saw a clip posted of a brief mini-sermon, you could call it, with the title, "It's Friday, but Sunday is Coming!" The speaker was addressing Good Friday. He pointed out all the sad and tragic things that were going on that day in the life of Jesus, but with each phrase he would end with the uplifting, "But Sunday is coming!" No one, except, perhaps, Jesus knew that SUNDAY and all the hope that held was coming. Even the human nature of Jesus on the cross cried to God why He had forsaken Him. Imagine the fear, the despair, the grief of his friends, followers, loved ones. We have the benefit of knowing that Sunday did come! Jesus is alive!! But at that moment when Jesus breathed his last, they all knew it was over. It made me think. How many "Fridays" do we have in our lives? How many times do we feel that all hope is lost, nothing will ever be right again, we are stuck in a vicious downward spiral of despair? When those times come, if we can just remember that Sunday is coming. There is hope! We can survive! We are loved!
Several years ago, I felt like my life was one big Friday. Nothing was going right!!! I was taking a Bible study, and the last part of it was to be in a half day of prayer. This was a little daunting for me. I pray, but I could not imagine spending 4 hours praying. How would I stay focused? I read some suggestions the study had of starting by writing a letter to God. I decided that's what I would do. The day came, and we were holding our prayer day at the home of one of the ladies in our class. We each picked a room in her house where we could be alone. I picked one of the bedrooms. Armed with my Bible and a spiral notebook and pen, I sat down in the small room. I began to write, "Dear God......" and it began to flow. However, you couldn't really call it a prayer. My words were angry and filled with "Why is my life this way?" "Why are you punishing me?" "What have I done to deserve this?", "Why have you left me?" "WHERE ARE YOU?!!" I took a small break in my rant to God and looked up as I was writing. There, spanning the wall, directly across from me was a painting hanging over the bed. It was a painting of a stormy sea with a lighthouse shining it's beacon at one end of the picture. That painting was my SUNDAY. It was what I call a sledgehammer moment. It was just like God saying to me, "Like this lighthouse, I am always here to guide you through the storm. However, you must look for Me." I was humbled. My rant became an apology for my selfishness and anger. Do you have goosebumps yet? It gets better. After our 4 hours of prayer were over, we joined each other in the main room to share what we had experienced. I told my story of the painting. The owner of the house told me that the painting had been under the bed and she had just decided to hang it a few days ago. I believe in signs, messages in all  shapes and forms. I truly believe that God knew I was going to be in that room and needed to send me that message. When I am going through the Friday's of my life, I think of that Lighthouse and know that SUNDAY IS COMING!!!

Totes! Another Rad Rant!

For your Tuesday afternoon, a rant for your reading pleasure. What is it with people taking perfectly legitimate words and shortening them in conversation? Here's a little free advice from me: YOU SOUND LIKE AN IDIOT! For some time now the shortened "totes" for the word "totally" has driven me crazy. Hearing someone utter the word is the proverbial "nails on a chalkboard" for me. I even started a Facebook group once called "Totes is a Company that makes Boots and Umbrellas" If you look up the word "totes" on Dictionary.com, there is no definition that includes the word "totally". Anyone who uses this word, male or female, sounds like they should be standing in a Mall with all of their teenage girlfriends, circa 1980 or you are touring with the road company of "Valley Girl"
The latest word to make it's debut in this atrocious behavior is the word "confirm" You may be thinking "confirm" is a word. Yes, as a verb. I am talking about the dolts who use the word as a noun pronounced (KAHN - firm) with the stress on the first syllable as in "We registered for the event, but we didn't receive a CONfirm." Obviously what they mean is, "We didn't receive a confirmation." What is this obsessive need to shorten real words to make them non-words? Are we, as a culture, so lazy we can't even muster enough strength to use full words in conversation anymore? I guess I'm old school, but I enjoy speaking with someone who sounds intelligent. You could have all the degrees in the world, but the first time "totes" escapes your lips when you're talking with me, a flashing neon sign goes off in my brain, "WARNING: YOU ARE NOW SPEAKING WITH AN IDIOT" So if my eyes begin to glaze over, and I look like I have totally tuned you out, I have.