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In the Blink of An Eye
Alyssa Chevere in my play, September's Heroes, October 2011
I just finished reserving my passes to visit the 9/11 Memorial in New York City, March 29th at 10 am.
I’m hoping the cast of September’s Heroes will want to help make a small tribute book that I can leave there.
Suddenly I find myself full of raw emotion, my eyes filled with tears and completely overcome.
September 11th, 2001 is the single most influential event in my lifetime. I’m not completely sure why the thought of it has such an overpowering effect on me. I just feel so connected.
Now I need to stop crying and go to rehearsal.
Never Forget. Remember.
Chop or Trim?
When you compliment and criticize or clean and organize… do you Chop or Trim? When you cut your hair do you trim and maintain it or chop it all off for a drastic new look? What’s your approach?
Today's Pic of the Day: Chopped Tree Trimming
Yesterday morning I opened the door to take the dogs out and was greeted with the sawing and grinding sounds of the machinery used to trim back the trees from the power lines. I found this somewhat odd since the company had already been through our neighborhood in November and December. I walked around the front and sure enough, one guy was up in the bucket, another on the ground, vigorously attacking tree limbs. And I mean ATTACKING the tree limbs!
I’ve always questioned the way the city (or its sub-contractors) maintained the trees around the power lines. I completely understand the need for the them to coexist in a way that the lines are not disrupted, but the way the trees are trimmed has resulted in unhealthy, gnarled and disfigured specimens. Most of them are downright ugly. It appears the objective is to chop out the center, or the heart of the tree, leaving an unbalanced V-shaped wedge. Now keep in mind, over the years Elgin has proudly touted its historic tree-lined streets. They’ve even received national recognition for it. Today, there aren’t many left.
When we moved here 13 years ago, we had six trees growing on the parkway (the area between the sidewalk and street), five of which were around 60-80 feet tall. Of those five, none of them have looked especially healthy, and it took three years of phone calls to convince someone that one, with a decaying hole clear through the trunk, needed to come down. We now have three left. The youngest, shortest of these, was the one being attacked the other morning.
The workers didn’t prune or trim it… they chopped and hacked it. They removed nearly all the upper branches, there is no longer a heart or crown, but they left one curved branch that extends below the power lines over the street. When they were done, the one that had been removing all the branches, stood back and examined his work and said to the other, “That doesn’t look good”. To which the other man responded, “You did it. I told you it was too much”. The first guy then shrugged and said, “It’s just a tree.” and they went back to work.
It’s just a tree.
Though I don’t think they killed it, it is definitely disfigured for the rest of its years. I’m not sure what kind of tree it is but it is not not one of the common Maples that are in abundance. This tree had a nice healthy shape and for the most part, the main branches were no threat to the power lines in its reach.
Now, what if this tree were a person? What if instead of saws cutting branches, it was words cutting into someone’s personality, looks or work ethic? How much damage could those words do? Will they permanently disfigure their target? Will they promote healthy growth?
Do you Chop or Trim?
Walk a Mile in My Shoes
I’m sure most have us have heard it at some point in our lives: “Why are you here?” or “Why aren’t you ____?” Or “So what’s holding you back?” I can’t think of a better way to invalidate someone’s life. Sometimes these questions are intended as compliments — insinuating that you could do, or deserve better. Sometimes the question is more pointed: “(If you’re so good) Then why are you here.” My new response is going to be… “Walk a mile in my shoes and then ask me that question“.
Students can be especially good at asking but usually it’s their way of saying, “Why should I listen to you?”
I had the chance to meet and catch up with an old friend (and former student) the other day. We reminisced over the ‘good old days’, played where are they now and talked a lot about where our lives have taken us. Cristen is a beautiful, petite, fireball who’s not afraid to tell it like it is… which is probably one of the reasons we hit it off. We both get in our share of trouble for being a bit too honest at times.
Cristen used to keep me company while building sets at the high school. The auditorium was her safe place and where she’d go to blow off steam. In those days, she dreamed of being a performer but when she got to college, it no longer seemed like the right fit. The passion had waned. Now, she finds herself, the wife of a choir director in a sleepy Missouri town with endless tales of small town life.
I remember our phone conversations when she was in college about her decision to change career paths. I remember feeling a little sad but wanting what was best for her. Talking with her about it now, it all makes sense. But at the time, I just hated to see someone so passionate, give up on her dream. I never judged her for it and I wasn’t really sure if she was looking to me for guidance, acceptance or confirmation of her decision. All I wanted was for her to be happy.
The important thing is that I couldn’t possibly understand where she was– because I was not walking in her shoes. Cristen was getting good roles in college right off the bat, so the decision wasn’t based on a little rejection, it was something deeper. The important thing to me was that her choices were her own and she was confident they were the right ones. How can you not respect that?
In my own life, I’ve made a lot of choices that have raised eyebrows and received a lot of critique. Do I think I’m talented? Yes. Do I think I’m good enough to play in the big sand box? Well, yes, to some extent — but on my terms. I’ve had the opportunity to work with a lot of different artists in many situations and the bottom line is that I’m too emotional and opinionated to play with most of the big boys. I wear my heart on my sleeve. In the professional world, especially in the performing arts, you have to have a really thick skin when it comes to defending your work and negotiating. I don’t have that thick skin.
I have to love what I do to be creative. I’ve always found it hard to take on a project for the money, or even just to build my resume. If I can’t get emotionally involved in it, then it won’t be my best work. I remember being offered the opportunity to direct Camelot years ago, and my initial thought was, “Ick!”, not my type of show. I guess they really wanted me, so I listened to the score and read the script but it wasn’t until I watched the movie that I found my connection. It was a momentary glance between Guinevere and Lancelot that suddenly grabbed me… and not only made me agree to do it, it made me incredibly passionate and excited about it. If I had not taken those specific steps to get to that point, I would have missed out on a rewarding experience and never grown to love that show.
Through my experiences, I’ve built up a lot of calluses and the soles of my feet are thick and worn. I’m more cautious about my steps and walk proudly through each day, knowing I’m where I need to be at this moment. I still take chances, I still stumble… but each time I get up, I’m stronger and wiser than I was before. It’s my journey– my road– and the only person with the right to question my path is me.
By the way, Cristen shared with me that she’s started taking voice lessons again and is loving it. Where that will lead? Only she knows.
Today’s Pic: SHOES!!! Michael’s and my shoes in our pantry/mud room.
What Is A Family?
Monday night we had dinner with Nicole’s family before they moved back to Texas. Over the course of conversation, Nicole gave me flack about slacking off, not blogging every day and asked why I hadn’t mentioned her in my blog. So here it is Nicole… you’ve been blogged!
Wednesday morning we said our goodbyes. I played peekaboo with 2 year old Alana, one last time… wondering if she’d remember the next time I see her. (Her mom, Peggy, kept saying, “It’s only been an 18 month visit”.) They loaded in the car to head for the airport. As they pulled out the gate and I walked back around the corner of the house to go inside, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t suddenly get a little teary-eyed. A lot of years and milestones have bonded us all together.
Peggy's "Annual Surprise Face".
I met Peggy (Nicole’s Mom) back in 1992, working with Elgin Community Theatre. The following year, I directed her as Mama Rose in Gypsy and we we cemented a bond that eventually blossomed to include her family. I met Michael shortly thereafter and our family was born. It’s been an honor to share so many memories and experiences over the past nearly two decades. We’ve shared so many family experiences… I don’t know what else to call it. We’ve celebrated holidays, birthdays, gone on family vacations, cruises…I worked for Nicole in retail for a while… you name it. Among my favorite memories with Nicole was our legendary all-night potato salad creation on the eve of her wedding. (She later claimed to have improved our recipe but don’t believe it!)
Webster’s definition of family includes: “the basic unit in society traditionally consisting of two parents rearing their children; also : any of various social units differing from but regarded as equivalent to the traditional family <a single-parent family>”.
I say family, like love, defies definition.
Happy and sad… the good and the bad… your FAMILY are the people that stick by you no matter what. Family has a much broader meaning today than when I was growing up. It’s much more than blood ties or marriages. I know there are still people that only believe family is family but they are missing so much. I guess a lot has to do with how you want to look at your relationships and how set you are in defining with labels. In terms of definition, today, most family units are labeled as broken or dysfunctional if they don’t meet certain criteria and fall in the category of a healthy family environment.We’d all be better off if we didn’t try to put everything neatly in little boxes.
I would prefer to define family by the bonds that exist… many unexplainable… that forever tie us together. With a divorce rate of more than 50%, second marriages, the addition and deletion of spouses and siblings’ families…the legal family constantly changes with time. Today the chosen family plays an important role in the broader definition, creating a rich network of relationships; adding to, or replacing the traditional family unit. I really hate the term ‘chosen family’ because I think it’s something that happens, not by choice. It’s just destined to be.
Alana wanting my camera to take her own pictures.
I don’t want to water down or down play the meaning of family by any means. Often we may refer to a group of people we associate with as family in order to show bonds and commitment… theatre family, church family… business leaders are infamous for referring to their companies as families. (Who treats their family the way some companies do?) Those relationships are not the true family I identify with the most.
My own biological family was scattered around the country over the years but have now all settled back in Central Florida where I grew up. (Except for me… still the wayward child living many miles away.) We usually see each other once or twice a year and keep in touch by phone and social networking. (I’m far more aware of what my family is doing through Facebook than I was before it existed.) Michael and I have considered moving down there– but now that Michael is running the family business, that isn’t an option anytime in the near future.
So now Nicole is back in Texas getting settled in her house that she so desperately missed. (No redecorating phone calls yet?) Alana will probably forget our games of Peek-a-Boo and Itsy-Bitsy Spider… Peggy is already planning her next trip down and hopefully Michael and I will be able to plan a visit in the near future. In spite of the distance, they are here in our hearts.
Family is important. The bonds are unlike those of most other relationships… the history, understanding and the support. I’ve been very blessed to have these people in my life.
I was told repeatedly after coming out that I’d have a sad life with no family.
They were SO wrong.
I Need A Clone
I need a clone. No, I mean it. I REALLY need a clone… not that the world would be able to handle TWO of me. Maybe I just need two brains and four hands… oh, and another mouth. (No, that wouldn’t be good.) When I’m busy I always seem to be trying to think, process and want to be commenting on two things at once. No, on second thought… I better have a whole clone. One that can be cleaning while I’m writing my blog, for instance. It would also be nice to send one to parties while I’m working or vice versa.
Maybe some sort of ‘thought processor’ or secretary would work just as well. I find myself constantly in the middle of something and thinking, I have to remember to say (or do) that… and then of course, I forget. It’s especially bad when I’m leading a project or directing. We can be working on a scene and I’m making mental notes as it goes and then I only remember about half of them when it’s done. Writing them down is fine, but then I’m missing something else.
Have you ever been working on a project with a group and tried to just supervise and delegate? It’s especially difficult when it’s your project. I am very hands on so this is something I struggle with daily. It’s not just one thing. It isn’t that I don’t trust other people to do something right or think that I can do it better. Sometimes it’s because I can do it quicker, or quicker than I can explain it. Sometimes it’s just something I feel I need to do or want to do.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve become much more of a morning person… an early morning person, that is. I wake up with all these thoughts and ideas and make a mental list of what I hope to do that day. I’m usually lucky if I complete one or two items on my list. I refuse to do something half-way which is why my list never seems to get any shorter. The start of one project always seems to blossom into four more. A clone would allow me to pass those additional projects on, while I focused on completing the original task.
Of course, if I really did have a clone I’d probably spend too much time arguing with myself about who should do what, when and how. Then what would I accomplish?
Today’s Pic of the Day: Two become one… Paw prints in the snow.
Accentuating the Positive
I can’t believe how fast this week has flown by. I need to backtrack. (I’ll talk about last Friday in a moment.) Saturday was the first full day of set construction at school and it was nice to see some old familiar faces and new faces as well. We were able to build the main structures of two rolling units for the spring musical, even though we were fighting with a lack of tools and battery power. Sunday, Michael and I went to brunch and then saw a great production of Legally Blonde at Marriott Lincolnshire. We have three friends in the production and it was wonderful to see them perform again.
Ragtime rehearsals are now in full swing and we’ve really made a lot of great progress this week. Except for spring break, we are now on a Monday through Saturday Rehearsal schedule until the show goes up in middle of April. I’m really enjoying working with our production team. Staging 130 students is a daunting task– but with a lot of preparation and collaborative input, I think we’re able to 
make the process fun for us all.
At one point yesterday, I was explaining a section to the cast and then said, “Does that make sense?” and the choreographer said, “I understood it.” I turned to her and said, “Yeah, but you’ve had 13 years to decipher me.” She laughed and said, “That is true!” It’s hard to believe we’ve been doing these annual productions this long.
Now back to Friday. It was one of those crazy weather days, lots of snow, cancelled rehearsals and changed plans. I’d talked to my Mom that morning and also a friend I’ve known for many years. That afternoon, I found myself working online, checking Facebook periodically as I always do… and this really magical thing started to happen… There was this sudden rush of positive messages coming my way. It was totally out of the blue and really inspiring. I heard from friends I hadn’t spoken with in a while and a few I hadn’t really talked to in years. I suddenly found myself in the middle of an online lovefest and couldn’t have been happier.
There is nothing more rewarding and that gives you a sense of validation, then having someone tell you how you had an impact on their life. Being told “Thank you for being you” is probably the greatest feeling of all. If you are like me, you always want to be a positive influence but as humans we naturally have our good days and bad days. There are periods where I feel I’m constantly in negative mode and I really hate that. Staying positive when constantly facing adversity is a tremendous challenge. I think that’s why I’m so sarcastic. It can annoy people but making light of negative situation has always helped me get through the day. Hopefully, I’m able to make someone smile or laugh along the way.
I’ve made connections with some of my favorite people, just by taking a moment and either complimenting them on something they’ve done and sharing how their very presence lights up my day. You never know what you might miss, in terms of a great friendship, if you don’t take that first step.
Finding the positive in an awkward situation can be the key to finding the solution. I had a supervisor that I butted heads with constantly until the day I decided to take a different approach. She was a “my way or the highway” type personality, whether or not she was wrong. I found the ability to look at the issues from her perspective and start there to find the solution… even though what we were doing was already the best that could be done in that circumstance. By making it clear that I was identifying with her, somehow opened her ears to hear my point of view. Representing the opposing side would just cause her to shut down and not listen. Approaching it by showing understanding led to our ability to work together as opposed to a constant stalemate. I think we were eventually able to appreciate each others opinions and find real resolutions. You have to be able to get a foot in the door first.
Take the time to compliment someone today, even if it’s someone you don’t really know. Reconnect with an old friend or acquaintance and share with them some positive impact they’ve had on your life. It could be totally unexpected and you’ll make their day.
Today’s Pic of the Day: Cash and Roxie playing in the snow last Friday.
Our Scars Affect Who We Are
When I was about five years old, my Dad came home from work for lunch one day and we were playing. He was sitting on the sofa and was throwing a small pillow that I would chase after and bring back to him and he’d throw it again. I guess we were playing fetch (and I was the dog). On one of those throws, the pillow flew out of the room and as I was chasing it, I slid across the floor, landing on my right hand, and tearing open my index finger. I think it only required four stitches but there was blood. I remember it happening, going to the doctor, getting a chocolate Tootsies Pop for being so brave and then a cherry Slush from Dairy Queen on the way home. I don’t remember any of the pain. As a result, my fingernail is permanently bent on the side and my cuticle is a little deformed. My Dad and I talked about it recently and even though it wasn’t his fault, he said he always felt bad about it.
Fourteen years ago at my last job, I had an accident with a cherry picker that could have killed me. My nose was broken, I had a black eye and a really nasty gash on my head. That wound required many more stitches, surgery on my nose and left me with some permanent scars. The biggest one peeks out of my hairline on my forehead and is about 3-4 inches long running back through my scalp. It’s still sensitive to this day but I hardly even think about it or notice it… it’s just a part of me.
Even though I’ll always have the physical scars as a reminder, it was the mental scars of the event that really affected me. The accident was a result of me doing my job. There were no labels or markings on the equipment and I was trying to move it and load it on a truck because the maintenance department had not done so, fulfilling the work order I had submitted. I was under a deadline and was told, “You WILL do what ever is necessary to have this completed”. The rest is history. I was back at work before I had to be, even as my nose was packed with cotton, black eye and stitches.
What I never expected was to be called in and have my job threatened. They said I acted irresponsibly and then tried to make me sign a statement saying I was completely at fault. They were trying to prevent any form of law suit, which never even occurred to me up to this point. I refused. I continued to be treated poorly after that. I knew my days were numbered because I was now a liability… and I left as soon as I could. (Within a couple weeks of the accident, the safety and warning stickers that had been absent, suddenly appeared all over the equipment! Extra safety gear was purchased and new policies were also put in place.)
The emotional scars I carried with me from that accident far outweighed the physical ones. A couple years later, I realized I hadn’t really looked at myself in the mirror since then. Yes, I used the mirror to shave but I wasn’t seeing myself. Looking at the scars… really seeing them… brought back the pain of how I was treated as a result of just trying to do my job.
The physical and emotional scars we carry with us really have a huge impact on who we are. They affect how we act or don’t act, our decisions and our reactions to others. Being able to share those scars with others– significant others, friends and co-workers, gives them so much incite into how we think and react the way we do. It’s our own abilities to build the trust and feel safe enough to share our experiences with others, that affects our relationships and attitudes.
I have a friend who lashed out at me once in a particular situation and I didn’t understand why. Later, she shared a particularly painful experience from her past and I was able to make the connection. That knowledge enabled me to prevent it from ever happening again. The key is to not let our emotional scars disfigure our hearts and personalities. We have to try to learn from them and use them to make us stronger. Our scars affect us… we just can’t let them become us.
Today’s Pic of the Day: My right index finger.
How Did I Get On This List?
For about eight months now, I’ve been getting at least one email a week from the Obama campaign (this week I got three). I’ve been invited to dinner, to volunteer and of course, to donate money. I’ve gotten emails from campaign staff, Barack, Michelle, Joe… and a few days ago, Jill Biden invited me to sign Michelle’s birthday card (and while I’m at it– make a donation). After all this time I still can’t figure out how I got on this email list.
I did support the President in the last election but I have not even begun to make up my mind regarding who I’ll support this year. I’ve always thought it would be exciting to be be a part of a campaign but I’d have to believe in the candidate 100% in order to do so. Quite honestly, I hate politics. The whole game gives me a headache and usually I find myself voting for the lesser of two (or more) evils as opposed to voting for a candidate I truly believe in.
I know politics is supposed to be a taboo subject in certain gatherings, especially family– and in my family, we are on opposite sides of the spectrum. Yes, I’ve had my fun getting my Dad riled up about a politician or issue but after a while, maybe it comes with maturity, I’ve found it much more productive to try and find our common ground. My parents are what I would consider, religious right Republicans and they probably consider me to be a far left wing Democrat. In reality, I’m probably right in the middle. I’ve found the best thing about our discussions (finding the common ground) is that I actually hear more of the true issues and reasons my parents vote the way they do, than when we are discussing the politicians. If we avoid the politicians, we can have an intelligent, bonding conversation about the needs and future of our country.
I really have a low tolerance for negative campaigns and mud slinging. I also despise campaign promises that are so grand they can never be accomplished. In my view, the presidential race is about selecting a figure head who can instill pride and confidence in the American people. Their platform comes in a distance second. I don’t believe the President has nearly the power to evoke change that many believe they do. They have to get bills through congress and by the time they are done– it is either so watered down or has so many other considerations attached to it… it’s unrecognizable and usually does more harm than good.
So back to the campaign emails… You know what has been missing from these emails? A platform. You would think in at least one of the more than 30 emails I’ve received, at least one would actually inform me about the candidate. Yes, health care reform has been mentioned… but what does that mean? How will it be executed and financially be controlled? What are it’s implications for our national welfare? How will it impact me directly? Doesn’t it make as much sense to share the vision as it does to beg for help? I might be more likely to contribute or volunteer if I know what I’m supporting.
I’ve been trying to formulate a letter in my head to send back in response. I haven’t found the exact wording yet, but when I do, I might share it here.
I’m not sure what the next email will bring… perhaps an invitation to another dinner or maybe a chance to win a potato from Michelle’s White House garden. I’d be happier to just hear a solid plan for the future.
Today’s Pic of the Day: The church next door. I’m not sure it translates well in in this photo– I love this peaceful image I get to enjoy, just outside my door.
Defending My “Hate” Blog Post
I just thought I should take a moment to defend my previous post about an incident that happened at school last week. Apparently, the title alone was offensive to some (well, at least one). When I went in for my monthly meeting with my supervisor, he had a copy of it on his desk. So someone must have sent it to him. His only real concern was the title, “Hate Is Alive and Well in Bartlett, Illinois”, because it suggests Bartlett is racist. I could have just as easily substituted any other city, state or country… but the fact is, the post was about a specific event in a specific place. Racism IS alive and well in every community… we can pretend it doesn’t exist, but it does.
Whether spray painting the N-word was ‘just a prank’, a joke, done out of stupidity, ignorance or actual hate doesn’t matter. It symbolizes hate. It has the potential to cause fear and anger in those that are faced with it.
Did I suggest that all of Bartlett or Bartlett High School is racist? Absolutely not. But does hate exist? Does bullying exist? Most definitely. I felt I needed to post the incident because too often our rose colored glasses allow us to ignore problems that continue to exist. My blog is about my life, my experiences and my opinions and I think I have the right to share.
One of the main reasons I felt the original post was so relevant, was a discussion I had with a former student recently. He made a comment that nobody wanted or needed to hear about hate. He said everybody knows about it and it doesn’t need to be talked about anymore. I completely disagree and thought this was a good example of why we need to continue to educate about the need for sensitivity and acceptance.
The majority of responses I got were from alumni, appalled that this happened. Some shocked that this happened at their Alma Mater. Others were not surprised at all.
The school’s reaction has been positive, increasing security efforts to assure this doesn’t happen again.
Today’s Pic of the Day: CENSORED
https://www.google.com/landing/takeaction/
I’m Finally Admitting It… I’m A Prophet
How many people are planning their lives around the end of the world December 21, 2012? Did you take your umbrella with you today because a man on TV told you to? Did you sell your house and give all your earthly possessions to a TV evangelist? Well, in a world full of forecasts and prophecies, I’m finally coming out… I, too… am a prophet.
The end of the world. Astrologer Nostradamus has predicted it, the Mayan calendar predicts it… or does it? Even the most educated scholars on the subject say you can’t really give credit to any of these predictions until after they’ve happened. So what good are they? They exist primarily to create fear.
Not even 24 hours after the 9/11 attacks on America, email was circulating claiming it was another fulfilled prophecy of Nostradamus. There were at least three or four variations of the quoted prophecy, all of which turned out to be fake. One was even claimed to have been written 100 years after his death. All about creating fear.
I don’t really know if a comet is headed our way… or Nibiru (Planet X)… I do know that worrying will do us no good. We’ll have to wait and see. And will it rain or snow or be overcast? You can’t even depend on meteorologists to get it right. There are some things that can be predicted… There will be weather.
So now its time for me to finally reveal my prophetic skills… My intentions are not really to scare and shock anyone… I just feel my calling to share my cosmic abilities with the world…
My Predictions for the Coming Year
1) I predict that governments will raise taxes ( and/or create new ones) in the coming 12 months.
2) I predict a child will be left behind.
3) I predict HGTV will reveal a new series all about square footage and granite counter tops.
4) I predict around the middle of April, most Americans will experience a sudden shock to their bank accounts. (April 15th to be precise.
5) I predict in the 11th month of this calendar year, a president will be elected (or re-elected) in America.
6) I predict the cast of Jersey Shore will be intoxicated this year.
7) I predict that those people that bravely skip breakfast and lunch will be hungry by dinner.
8) I predict a new infomercial, selling a brilliant new product, will sweep the country and rival the Chia Pet, Snuggie, and Shake Weight.
9) I predict at least one sock will disappear mysteriously from your dryer.
10) I predict that by the time you’ve read these predictions, you will have laughed, rolled your eyes, or both.
And for my final prediction…
I predict that I will never be revered as a great prophet, even though ALL my predictions will come true.
So sayeth I.
Today’s Pic of the Day: Collins decided he would help me write this blog post. I hope you enjoyed it.
How Do You Measure 525600 Minutes? 