The Show Must Go On, Usually

Of course I said yes, even though I had never before had any interest in going on stage.  It wasn’t every day that I was asked to participate.  Usually it was the popular kids who got to perform.  I certainly didn’t qualify.

But Liza was in charge, and Liza was my friend.  Liza was also the tallest kid in 6th grade.  I was the third smallest (Betsy and Annette were smaller, if you’re wondering).  So I was perfect for the part of George Washington’s granddaughter.  Liza, the playwright and tall person, would play General George Washington at the end of the Revolutionary War.

We were set to perform Liza’s play in front of the 4th, 5th and 6th graders on the big stage in the auditorium.  We were even allowed to open and close the stage curtains!

auditorium

Google Image

My part was small, but important — General George Washington’s granddaughter, Nelly.  This is how my big scene was supposed to go.

Following a couple of battle scenes, General George/Liza appears in the living room of his granddaughter, Nelly, who is delighted to see him.  Nelly/Elyse runs up to Grandpa/Liza, and jumps up to give Grandpa a big hug, and say:

“Grandpa!”  Then I was to slowly get down, looking at how Grandpa George/Liza is dressed — in civilian clothes, and continue: “Where are your pretty soldier clothes?”

“I have put them away for good, Nelly,” Grandpa George/Liza responds.  “The War is over.”

It didn’t quite go that way during our performance, though.  Because you see, I was a little bit over excited.  So when it was time for my big scene, well …

The curtain opened…

“GRANDPA!” I screamed, and I ran at Grandpa George/Liza like a ball of fury, and I jumped!

I jumped so hard, in fact, that Grandpa George/Liza dropped me on my butt before falling on his.

You know the adage “the show must go on?  Well I’m assuming I’d never heard it.  I was quite young you see.

I couldn’t stop laughing long enough to deliver the rest of my lines.  Liza managed to choke hers out, somehow.  We were greeted with riotous applause when we did our curtain call.  I’m pretty sure that the kids in the audience liked the improvised version better than the original.

It was years before I would get up the courage to get on stage again.  And while I never again literally fell flat, I did have additional humiliating experiences, so obviously my fear was justified.

***

I tell this story because someone who followed me in school, and performed in my high school acting group just hit the big time.  And not with her butt.

Alison Porter, who won The Voice last night, also grew up in my hometown, Westport, Connecticut.  She is wildly talented.  And upright.

 

Of course I have never met her, or seen her perform in real life.  Still, it’s good to see a hometown girl make good, standing on her own two feet.

 

 

 

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Filed under Acting, Childhood Traumas, Cool people, Growing up, Humor, keys to success, laughter, Memoir writing, Most Embarassing Moments Evah!, Oh shit, Theatre, Why the hell do I tell you these stories?

I Found My Donor!

Well, it’s been a while since I discussed the topic that is near and dear to my, ummm, heart.

Poop transplants!  — The ultimate solution to my Crohn’s disease woes.

OK, it’s nearer to my hiney, but you can’t claim you weren’t expecting that.

Earlier today I was discussing my future poop transplant with my boss.  (It’s true, I have no pride what so ever.)  She’s very interested in the idea.  She wants me healthy, of course, but really, I think she wants to see what happens from a scientific perspective.  And, frankly, I can’t blame her.  I want to know what’ll happen from a scientific point of view, too.  And from the perspective of a toilet paper consumer.

You may recall that  I’ve mentioned that you have to be very choosy when choosing a poop donor.  If the donor is fat, or depressed, or psychotic, well, the recipient can become fat, or depressed or psychotic.  I haven’t researched what happens if you choose someone immature, though.  Perhaps I should.

Anyway, the issue was on my mind tonight when I began reading the news. And I found my donor!

He is young and healthy, albeit a little younger than I was thinking of;  he’s living in Florida with his mother.  In fact, it was his mom who brought him to my attention.  Well, and to the attention of people with a deep seated interest in poop.

One day Katy Vasquez discovered that the Lord moves in mysterious ways.  And goes into mysterious places.  Because, You see, one day when she was changing his diaper, she saw this sign that things were going to get better.:

Halla-Poo-Yah

This picture was taken by my donor’s mom, Katy Vasques, and posted to Facebook and the Huffington Post (where I saw it).

It’s Holy Shit!  What more could I ask for from a donor?

HALLA-POO-YAH!

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Filed under 'Merica, ; Don't Make Me Feel Perky Tonigh, Advice from an Expert Patient, All The News You Need, Bat-shit crazy, Beating that Dead Horse, Being an asshole, Childhood Traumas, Chronic Disease, Conspicuous consumption, Crazy family members, Crohn's Disease, Disgustology, Dreams, Family, Gross, Health, Health and Medicine, Hey Doc?, Huh?, Humor, I Can't Get No, keys to success, laughter, Mental Health, Oh shit, Out Damn Spot!, Poop, Poop transplants, Science, Seriously funny, Seriously weird, Shit, Shit happens, Taking Care of Each Other, Useful thing to do with poop, Why the hell do I tell you these stories?, Wild Beasts, WTF?

Don’t Make Me Decide!

I just finished reading a very funny (and clean) blog post by Ross Murray

At the end, Ross invited me to vote for him at Sacha Black’s

Annual Bloggers Bash

I immediately hopped on over to vote.  Thanks, Ross.

But there is problem.

Two of my very favorite funny bloggers are on Sacha’s list.  Ross and Barb Taub.

They are very different bloggers.  Both are coffee-through-the-nose funny.

So I figured I’d post about the contest, and make you guys choose.

I am a total wimp.

32 Comments

Filed under Bloggin' Buddies, Humor

In Praise of Paragraphs

Is it just me?

Am I alone in this?

Am I the only one who knows how to use the return carriage?  The “enter” key?

Paragraphs.  I need paragraphs.

Reading a post, or a story, or anything at all where there is one long block of text makes e cray-cray.

Visually.

Conceptually.

Textually.

For those who don’t know what that means, here is the Miriam Webster definition:

Simple Definition of paragraph

  • : a part of a piece of writing that usually deals with one subject, that begins on a new line, and that is made up of one or more sentences

Perhaps it is my age.  Or the fact that I write for a living.  But every time I see a blog post that is one loooooooooooooooooooong paragraph, I look elsewhere for entertainment or enlightenment.

 

 

 

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Filed under ; Don't Make Me Feel Perky Tonigh, Humor, In praise of paragraphing, Return carriage, Things that make me nuts, Writing technique

Food to Smile About

Tippy over at Chasing Unicorns has a practical way for us to help folks. Food donations collected by the US Postal Service.

Tippy Gnu's avatarChasing Unicorns

Leave canned or boxed food in your mailbox, Saturday, May 14th. Leave canned or other packaged, non-perishable foods in your mailbox, Saturday, May 14th.
It was my noblesse oblige that brought me to the grocery store, and duty is never fun. The National Association of Letter Carriers (NALC) is holding its annual Food Drive this Saturday, May 14th.

Sigh. So I went to the supermarket to find some canned goods to leave in my mailbox. That’s when the conservative side of me began to grumble. “These poor people,” my inner voice whined, “have often made bad choices. They’ve gotten mixed up with drugs and alcohol. They’ve committed crimes. They’ve made stupid career decisions. And now, I’m supposed to feed them?”

The liberal side of me began clearing its throat to say something guilt-inducing in response. But I shushed both of these voices. There was something deeper and more distant stirring within. My own childhood.

I grew up poor. And it was…

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Filed under Humor