Category Archives: Uncategorized

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Looking, Leaping and Making a Splash

I don’t so much leap into a new adventure as I throw myself unabashedly off the cliff of possibilities into the lake of promise. It might be why I currently have more irons than wrinkled shirts, but oh how I love the rush of adrenaline that hits when new project presents itself.

Today, I officially released the information on my latest endeavor, “The Theatre Downstream.” How this came about is another peg in the board of my belief that the path we follow leads us to everyone and everything we are supposed to meet and do.

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Dear Katelyn

Dear Katelyn,

I know this may be difficult for you to believe, seeing as there are hundreds of babies born every day, and you might be concerned that your parents were exaggerating, but, your Mom and Dad are correct when they inform you that on June 12, 2014, you were the most beautiful, perfect soul to enter this world. For the first few days of your existence, your mother was heard to utter over and over, “Isn’t she the cutest thing EVER?” to anyone who would listen.

Right now, things are still really fresh and new (and cold) to you, and you’re awesome at sleeping a lot, so I’m happy, as one of your surrogate Aunts, to give you a quick family history, and to talk about perfect timing.

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The Golden Corral Bathroom Cookie War Radio Drama

The Golden Corral was the second stop of the day after wandering aimlessly around the massive expanse of a retail store that is the “Bass Pro Shop.” From one sensory overload to another, it was an afternoon of indulgence that only Southerners know how to partake of.

After feasting on the smorgasbord like Templeton the Rat at the fair, I made the necessary bathroom visit before departing. A few seconds behind me followed a very impressive child screamer of about five years old or younger, and his mother.

(Reminder: This encounter was so impressive, I’m writing a post about it, so don’t stop reading yet.)

I must confess that I stayed in the stall longer than I should have to listen to the outcome. It turned out to be dinner and a show. But more like a Radio Drama, since, you know, I couldn’t see their faces.

Scene: Golden Corral Bathroom

Sobbing child enters, followed by Mother.

Wait….I must edit that. Not sobbing.

Gut wrenching, melodramatic screaming child enters followed by Mother.

Better.

Scene continues Continue reading →

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“Success is walking from failure to failure with no loss of enthusiasm.” ~Winston Churchill

Secret to Success

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“Don’t Worry, Be Livid”

McDonald’s has long been a place of happiness for many children and adults. The toys, the playground, the clown with the frozen smile. They even have a meal named after the emotion.

However, in recent years, complaints arose about the decline in customer service. Among the most prevalent was the admonition that drive thru attendants were rude or neglectful. In response, management enforced a strict, “GET HAPPIER” campaign. The drive thru attendants began doing just that; smiling, asking how customers were, wishing them a good day, etc.

Just so you know I’m not making this up:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/04/11/mcdonalds-orders-more-friendly-service_n_3060820.html

It was shortly after this incentive first rolled out that I got to experience this new and improved customer service. Pulling up to collect my lunch, I was greeted by a ridiculously enthusiastic boy in his early twenties with a 1,000 mega watt smile that reached up past his bright blue eyes and well into his blonde hairline.

There was a slight delay with my food, so he engaged me in some friendly chit chat directly in line with the initiative. He asked what my order had been, how my day was going and then explained the delay was partly due to how busy they had been that day. He revealed that in fact, his shift was supposed to have ended at 1pm.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!!” I replied as I glanced at the clock, which now read 4pm. “Don’t worry about it!” he cheerfully continued. “They’ve cut my hours, so I’m making up the time!”

By this point, my drink order was filled and he passed it along through the window. Distracted by a figure across the parking lot, he asked me, “Is that Martha??” I dutifully followed his gaze and considered a moment. I then responded honestly, “I have no idea.” Realizing his error, he laughed. “No, we had a lady quit recently, and she was one of my favorites. That looks just like her.”

Now back on track, he continued, “We’re just waiting on your nuggets.”

“Okay.” Not used to drive thru conversational etiquette, I fell silent.

To prevent a further lull in conversation that could possibly be misconstrued as rudeness on his part, he started over. “How are you today?”

Having nothing else pressing, I decided to join him in the do-over. “I’m great! How are you?”

He beamed back at me. “I’m just livid.”

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Shelby Eatenton Is Real

“How is that baby ever going to understand how wonderful his mother was? How will he ever know what she went through for him?”

— M’Lynn Eatenton, “Steel Magnolias”

A note from author Robert Harling under the cast of character descriptions in the play “Steel Magnolias” reads: “The women in this play are witty, intelligent, and above all, real characters. They in no way, shape or form are meant to be portrayed as cartoons or caricatures.”

Robert Harling was serious. Shelby Eatenton is real.  I don’t mean real in the metaphysical way in that she’s real because I was one of the very fortunate women to bring her to life. Or the countless other women who have proceeded me in bringing her to life. I mean, and he means, she was a real young woman who really lived, and who really died.

She was his sister, Susan Harling Robinson.

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Travel–It’s a Gas!

There are a lot of things that I experienced while on a trip in Atlantic City, New Jersey last year. I had a beautiful ocean view room, enjoyed some time on the beach, good conversation with my Aunt, and finally conquered a long-held fear that the book “Jurassic Park” was too scary for me to read. 

I have a very active imagination, and while in the midst of my eyes devouring a description of a particularly gory scene, I may or may not have entertained a split second conviction that a dinosaur was outside my twelve story hotel window. It wasn’t, but I also may or may not have slept with the light on. I didn’t, but the television may or may not have stayed on while I slept…

It did.

Invisible dinosaur notwithstanding, that was not my most exciting experience or the one I’ll remember the most. The thing I will remember, and without prompting, what the other 100 people I traveled with will recall, was the plane ride home.

As in the case of most disasters, the calm before the storm was misleading. Like the tide rushing back to hug the shore, the cause of the quiet snickering in the rear of the plane bubbled forward. I didn’t realize what all the tittering was about until the wave crashed over the 5th row, where my Aunt and I were seated.

Someone, and that person will be blessedly, and forever unknown, ate something that disagreed with them.

Wait–that feels too polite. They ate something that died right before it was ingested and then that something fought back inside their intestines and escaped through their nether regions as steam heat.
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Happiness is Cake

“Good things come to those who wait.”

That’s a very encouraging sentiment, and could even be considered words to live by. I could also guarantee you without so much as a second of research that the above is a string of words first uttered by someone whose mouth was packed full of freshly baked cake. The extra ten pounds I’ve been carrying on my thighs for the past ten years is evidence enough of my own personal belief in that statement.

Think about it; has their ever been a more perfect moment than when we first partake of this warm, confectionary burst of happiness? Such simple ingredients; eggs, water, butter, cake mix (let’s be real) a dash of vanilla and a pinch of love, poured in a pan and baked to 350 degrees of golden joy. Roughly 30 minutes later, after a slathering of chocolate icing, and a scattering of sprinkles (for whimsy) the final result is a nigh on guarantee to cure any ill.

Now that we’re all hungry, what’s the point?
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