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Friday, September 5, 2008
Saturday, August 30, 2008
FRIENDS......
friend
n.
1. A person whom one knows, likes, and trusts.
4. One who supports, sympathizes with, .........
According to the online dictionary a friend is someone you like and trust, someone who sympathizes with you and supports you.
When we realized that our middle child, Anslee, who has Down Syndrome, had a hearing loss we were off to the ENT. He in turn recommended a specialist. As I set out Friday afternoon, August 29th, I expected that we would hear that she needed tubes again and I'd be out the door and on my way to McDonalds for a crabby patty and plankton sticks (for those of you that do not know about SpongeBob Squarepants that translates to a cheeseburger and fries). Well, that would be too easy, it turns out that our daughter has Cholesteatoma. Cholesteatoma, Cholesteatoma, Cholesteatoma, it kept resonating in my head, but not as much as the words 'operate right away' and 'fatal'. The specialist wrote it on a piece of paper, legibly I might add, so I could read up on it later. It is a collapsed ear drum that has been pulled into the middle ear, eroding the delicate bones, preventing the sloughing of skin from the ear canal, causing the skin to form a tumor that can cause paralysis of the face if it grows in the facial bones and death if it grows into the brain. Here is where the rubber meets the road, I love God, we have been successful in raising our children to love God, so the logical side of my brain reminds me of her eternity in heaven with a heavenly Daddy that will hold her close and love her unconditionally. I know she will never know pain and will speak clearly and never face the cruelty of this world. I have faith, I have accepted His sufficient grace, I know His promise to prosper me, I KNOW HIS LOVE FOR ME!
What does this have to do with friends? Well, when I collapsed into the seat of my car, picked up my phone, I called my best friend, my husband, the man I have loved for 17 years, as always he promised that we would get through this together. What else would such a dedicated, godly man, a man of character, say? Then I called my other best friends, one being my mother-in-law, shocking huh? and Nay-Nay, my red neck, white trash, cheetah wearing, flamingo loving, self proclaimed Auntie to my children, all too loud, BFF. Then there was the call made to my dear friends, Jimmy and Kelley, in Lugoff at 1:15am. When I requested, "If she does not make it, will you conduct her funeral?", only to hear a comforting, "Yes". His wife prayed with me, she is a mom too, she knew there were no words of comfort, she listened to me cry. I called another person, whom I like and trust, my pastor, who offered to hold a special prayer time. Then there is Lynn and Dennis, two of the most reliable, God loving people I know. When I shared with Lynn what was going on, I had total confidence that she would be in prayer. I'd say these people, (along with my family that rallied around us in love too!) fit the definition of friends, I'd say they surpass it. I thank my God for you. I love you, friends........thank you!
n.
1. A person whom one knows, likes, and trusts.
4. One who supports, sympathizes with, .........
According to the online dictionary a friend is someone you like and trust, someone who sympathizes with you and supports you.
When we realized that our middle child, Anslee, who has Down Syndrome, had a hearing loss we were off to the ENT. He in turn recommended a specialist. As I set out Friday afternoon, August 29th, I expected that we would hear that she needed tubes again and I'd be out the door and on my way to McDonalds for a crabby patty and plankton sticks (for those of you that do not know about SpongeBob Squarepants that translates to a cheeseburger and fries). Well, that would be too easy, it turns out that our daughter has Cholesteatoma. Cholesteatoma, Cholesteatoma, Cholesteatoma, it kept resonating in my head, but not as much as the words 'operate right away' and 'fatal'. The specialist wrote it on a piece of paper, legibly I might add, so I could read up on it later. It is a collapsed ear drum that has been pulled into the middle ear, eroding the delicate bones, preventing the sloughing of skin from the ear canal, causing the skin to form a tumor that can cause paralysis of the face if it grows in the facial bones and death if it grows into the brain. Here is where the rubber meets the road, I love God, we have been successful in raising our children to love God, so the logical side of my brain reminds me of her eternity in heaven with a heavenly Daddy that will hold her close and love her unconditionally. I know she will never know pain and will speak clearly and never face the cruelty of this world. I have faith, I have accepted His sufficient grace, I know His promise to prosper me, I KNOW HIS LOVE FOR ME!
What does this have to do with friends? Well, when I collapsed into the seat of my car, picked up my phone, I called my best friend, my husband, the man I have loved for 17 years, as always he promised that we would get through this together. What else would such a dedicated, godly man, a man of character, say? Then I called my other best friends, one being my mother-in-law, shocking huh? and Nay-Nay, my red neck, white trash, cheetah wearing, flamingo loving, self proclaimed Auntie to my children, all too loud, BFF. Then there was the call made to my dear friends, Jimmy and Kelley, in Lugoff at 1:15am. When I requested, "If she does not make it, will you conduct her funeral?", only to hear a comforting, "Yes". His wife prayed with me, she is a mom too, she knew there were no words of comfort, she listened to me cry. I called another person, whom I like and trust, my pastor, who offered to hold a special prayer time. Then there is Lynn and Dennis, two of the most reliable, God loving people I know. When I shared with Lynn what was going on, I had total confidence that she would be in prayer. I'd say these people, (along with my family that rallied around us in love too!) fit the definition of friends, I'd say they surpass it. I thank my God for you. I love you, friends........thank you!
Monday, August 25, 2008
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Family........... nothing better than having a house full of people you love. Laughing, making memories that will last a lifetime and just having a great time! My brother, in the white shirt, is Ben, I used to call him "Beaner Weiner", he's 13 years my junior. My parents waited for a free babysitter.....another therapy session. Ben's beautiful wife, Melanie, is one of the sweetest people I have 
ever met. She did 2 of the nicest things for me, she married my bother so he didn't live with the family forever and she let me watch my precious niece be born. My niece, Taylor, another joy in my life, was not named after me, but I am over that.......My mom, Joan, is to my left, with her....uh hum.... 'natural' blond hair has always been a scrappy, tough woman. I admire her ability to handle the big things in life. She is now the matriarch of the family, probably the biggest role of her life, but making great strides. My dad, Tim, is in the green and white stripped shirt, what can I say, he's 'daddy', a great daddy, but I AM HIS FAVORITE!
Friday, August 22, 2008
I AM SIGNIFICANT
The bible says in Genesis 5, I have been made in the image of God. In Psalm 139:14, "I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well." Did any of that come to mind on Thursday morning as I stood in my kitchen?
It started off with the fact that I accidentally purchased '1/2 the caffeine' coffee by Maxwell House, I know, I'll round the corner soon. I am an addict, it's my husband's fault, one he claims with pride.....another blog. The coffee didn't carry the kick needed for the day I had lined up. I called my beautiful children into the living room to give them the, Mommy-has-a-lot-on-her-plate-and-I-need-you-to-stay-in-your-rooms-and-play-nicely-with-each-other talk. Did they stay in their rooms? Did they play nicely? Did anyone hear the form of punishment laid out prior to disobedience?
As I stood before my husband, sobbing that no one listens to me and yelling, "I am significant", he turns and says, "What did you say? The kids are so loud I can't hear a word you just said." Okay, not really, but that is not a stretch..... I ran to my room (newly decorated in a victorian/b&b theme, another blog with pictures) threw myself on the (really tall, got risers) bed and sobbed.
Then it hit me, I wonder if God ever feels like sobbing, does He? Look at what he sacrificed and we are often, sometimes blatantly, disobedient. It's all there in the bible, laid out before us, what we should do, what will happen if we do and don't and so often we don't 'play nice with each other'. Thank you God for that lesson...Amen!
Just a side note - my friend Renee' called and as I shared with her how my day started, she said, "Can I put you on hold just a second?" and the phone went dead.
I hate call waiting and I get angry when the person I am on the phone with decides to talk to the person who has called in, that is rude! If you can't go without answering that call, then beep(?) over, tell them you'll call them back, don't give them time to say anything and beep(?) back over to the person who was first and is most significant at that time!!!
To her credit she called me 5 times and each time I refused to answer - repeating to myself that "I AM SIGNIFICANT". I guess I need to call her back......
It started off with the fact that I accidentally purchased '1/2 the caffeine' coffee by Maxwell House, I know, I'll round the corner soon. I am an addict, it's my husband's fault, one he claims with pride.....another blog. The coffee didn't carry the kick needed for the day I had lined up. I called my beautiful children into the living room to give them the, Mommy-has-a-lot-on-her-plate-and-I-need-you-to-stay-in-your-rooms-and-play-nicely-with-each-other talk. Did they stay in their rooms? Did they play nicely? Did anyone hear the form of punishment laid out prior to disobedience?
As I stood before my husband, sobbing that no one listens to me and yelling, "I am significant", he turns and says, "What did you say? The kids are so loud I can't hear a word you just said." Okay, not really, but that is not a stretch..... I ran to my room (newly decorated in a victorian/b&b theme, another blog with pictures) threw myself on the (really tall, got risers) bed and sobbed.
Then it hit me, I wonder if God ever feels like sobbing, does He? Look at what he sacrificed and we are often, sometimes blatantly, disobedient. It's all there in the bible, laid out before us, what we should do, what will happen if we do and don't and so often we don't 'play nice with each other'. Thank you God for that lesson...Amen!
Just a side note - my friend Renee' called and as I shared with her how my day started, she said, "Can I put you on hold just a second?" and the phone went dead.
I hate call waiting and I get angry when the person I am on the phone with decides to talk to the person who has called in, that is rude! If you can't go without answering that call, then beep(?) over, tell them you'll call them back, don't give them time to say anything and beep(?) back over to the person who was first and is most significant at that time!!!
To her credit she called me 5 times and each time I refused to answer - repeating to myself that "I AM SIGNIFICANT". I guess I need to call her back......
Thursday, August 7, 2008
LET THEM EAT CAKE!
One week later, one more birthday! Cake for breakfast they chanted! Little fists pounding the island in our kitchen, smiles on their faces, it is another special day! Lets sing the song! Let's eat cake!
She said, He did......
It was her day, she wanted to be treated like a princess. I asked how this day would be unlike any other, with a sweet, gentle smile she said, "It's my birthday." It was his off-day, he was up and out of the house before 7:00am. Call it what you will, tradition or custom, 'round here we call it love. On every birthday our daughters get flowers from their daddy and cake for breakfast. The first store had a few bouquets, the buds were not nice enough. The second store did not have any flowers. The third store, you guessed it, Wal-Mart, had it all! So her daddy picked out the best roses, searched until he found her favorite chocolate cupcakes and he couldn't leave Wal-Mart without going through the music section. Ah, his hobby, choosing, listening to, downloading and/or owning music, it was something to be shared with his daughter. She wanted this to be a Hannah Montana birthday, she's 11, her first teen role model, he just couldn't leave without "just one more gift". I'm sure that same sweet, gentle smile came across his face as he thought of how he'd slip it in the birthday gift bag.
The princess was awakened with the sound of her sisters singing,"happy birthday" as they stood close by, knowing that they too would get cake for breakfast, not only on their special day, but their sisters day as well! So it was that she was treated like a princess and he did it, not because she asked, but because he loves...........
The Golden Apple
The Golden Apple Dinner Show in Sarasota, Florida was a great experience, but in a very Twilight Zone kind of way. Think back to 1974 when "Columbo", Peter Falk, was at the peak of his game.
You pull up outside of the dinner theater where you are greeted by an eager parking attendant working for tips and a low hourly rate. You hand him the keys to your minivan, knowing it will be returned in good condition because, well, it's a minivan. You walk into the lobby where the host is dressed in a jacket that is too tight, he is seemingly playing a character from the 30's, but his flamboyance is way too big. After he takes your name, checks off your reservation, he says, "Walk this way." You hesitate, the thought of him sashaying away hits your mind immediately, you fight the urge to laugh, compose yourself and as if on cue, he sashays up a hall lined with cheaply framed, autographed, black & white pictures of past performers. As you ascend up the slight incline, passing the kitchen and restrooms there is the familiar fragrance of long ago smoked cigarettes lingering. Upon arrival at the velveteen draped entrance you are hoping that you do not enter under the bright glare of a spotlight as an overexcited announcer introduces you, asking everyone to stand and applaud as you make your way in. As you cross the threshold, you cautiously look around and realize you are on the top level of a three level dining room. Everyone turns to watch you descend the staircase, there is no great fanfare, so you proceed to the floor level, second table from center stage in which you have paid premium rates. Noticing the decor you listen as the 'mobster' host tells you the name of your server, get this, 'The Dazzling Domino', could you hear the drum roll in your head? You sit down, in close proximity to your neighbors to the right, left and back of you as your 'mob' host departs. You look around, waiting for 'The Dazzling Domino' to approach you, and you realize there are people entering that are familiar to you. You know this can't be, you're over 500 miles away from home. Then as your chatty neighbor leans over the table to her guest and does the roll and lean in your direction, she shares with you the who's-who in the theater as she beams with pride. As my friend Renee' would say, she was quite the "braggart". Unfortunately, her guest couldn't hear very well and she effortlessly repeated her every word with confidence, as she leaned back in her chair, adjusting her napkin, with a look of contentment. The buffet was in the center of the floor on the lowest level and eventually it would be rolled away and the stage would be rolled out. So, as you are waiting, the quite Dazzling Domino appears, bringing water and shares with you the particulars of the "Celebration Package" you have purchased. You go to the buffet, get your plate, and you are distracted by the conversations you are eavesdropping in on, "how many cities they have toured", "roles they have turned down", "who they met" and "how they actually look off stage", when you realize you are holding up the line and pick over what you think you may want to eat. Then you get to the carving station, get your prime rib and pork loin, grab a roll and head back to your seat. As you approach your table you realize that your white swivel bucket chair is truly a toss back from the 70's and hope that as the night progresses, you will be cautious when you go to stand. You sit down, adjust your napkin, place your silverware in its correct order, after all you are at The Golden Apple. You gently run your hands from the center of your table to the edges and giggle inside as you think, "What, no linens? Just vinyl?" As you cut your meat one bite at a time, remembering the rules of etiquette, you chew the tender meat. Your eyes scan the room and you wonder, outloud, if this is what a cruise ship in the 70's looked like. You say, "Oh no, is this what the Titanic was like?" I never watched the movie, but I hear they all went down in the end...... Anyway, the walls on the top tier were covered in navy blue velveteen with white electric sconces, the second tier was half walls, painted navy, tables had candles for the ambiance and on the floor level were tables lining another half wall, painted navy and tables in the center of the floor. As you read the brochures you realize you are seated in what used to be a Morrison's Cafeteria . At some point in our lives we have all had to resist our cravings and please the palatte of an elderly relative or friend and eat at a Morrison's Cafeteria. Like a bolt of lightening it hits you, you recognize the decor, it is leftovers from an old cafeteria! And the buffet, it too was from the Morrison's cook line. Even the carver at the carving station was from Morrison's. You watch as people enter the theater and you take note that one woman in particular is so familiar, you know that you know her. You are searching your memory bank, as your closely seated neighbor-to-the-left, not-so-discreetly shares her knowledge with her mostly-deaf guest and of course, she does the roll over in your direction, and says, "That is Susan Hayes, Julie, from Days of Our Lives", she smuggly sits back, yet again, adjusting her napkin. You try not to act star struck and attempt to resist the urge to jump up from the white plastic swivel bucket chair and run screaming, "I know you, I grew up watching you, can I have your autograph?" Then it dawns on you, the star of the production, Chicago, in which you have paid for premium seats, is Bill Hayes. Susan's real life husband, get it? It is Doug, Doug from Days of Our Lives!!!!!! You know him too, it's Hope's dad, you have watched him all your life. Oh, how you loved Doug and Julie, surely there was some tragedy that you cheered them on through. There must have been some episode that made you cry, what about those Christmas episodes??? Didn't we all want a Horton Christmas? The entire family laid aside their differnces, stopped sleeping with a family members spouse, or a familiy member, and even Stephano was welcomed. They hung the ornaments with their names on them on the big tree at Grandma Hortons house, that had been, I am sure, destroyed in a fire and amazingly rebuilt and secretly paid for by Stephano...... Like sands through the hour glass, so are the Days of Our Lives........Ah, memories. Then before you stands the 'Dazzling Domino', bringing you back as she asks when would you like your dessert and coffee. "During intermission" we reply, as she leaves, the nosy neighbor says, "I didn't know you got dessert." As you sit back in your chair, adjust your napkin, with contentment you say, "We got the Celebration Package!" Before you know it, the buffet is rolled away and there is the owner, on what will be the area where the stage will be rolled out. Looking like an emcee at a three-ring circus, he welcomes everyone and makes special announcements. As he calls out birthdays, everyone claps. Then he gets to the anniversaries and says, "I understand Tom and Chris are celebrating their 15th wedding anniversary, where are you folks?" Not able to control the redneck in myself, I give a good southern, "WoooHooo", and as everyone claps, he follows it up with, "and they are still sitting at the same table folks!", followed by an immediate rimshot by the drums. Bill Hayes was introduced and there were the cheers that were paying homeage to 'Doug', because they grew up watching him and felt a personal connection, then there were the obligatory cheers because of his wife's presence. Then, well, let's just say, it was time for the show to begin...... I swiveled around from facing the table to facing the stage, which was effortlessly rolled out, very creative and great use of space, "Wasted Spaces" on DIY would be proud! I then met my new-to-the-left-of-me neighbor, the former-to-the-back-of-me neighbor, who leaned over and said, "It's going to a great production tonight. The paper said the critics would be here tonight. My wife says I am too animated, I hope I don't disturb you as I sing along." With as much southern charm as I could muster, I said, "I might join you." (Snickering to myself because I know I suffer horribly from Lyricosis) He settled in his white plastic swivel bucket seat as the lights went down and the flashing neon sign came on, flashing "CHICAGO"! For those of you that don't know me well, know I was intended to marry Michael Douglas, star of "Streets of San Fransisco", "Basic Instinct" and many more. But no, he married Catherine Zeta-Jones, so the lady playing 'Velma Kelly' had one strike against her in my book. Renee Zellweger played 'Roxie' in the movie version so the actress playing that role was preoccupied with attempting to squint her eyes when she smiled and imitate the cute way Renee holds her mouth. The production was terrific, but I found myself distracted by the thought that at some point a man's nicely manicured hand, with a gold and diamond pinky ring, a fashionable 1970's large goldtone ID bracelet, in a ruffled cuffed sleeve with button coverlets and a tuxedo jacket, would ease out between the velveteen curtains, clutching a pearl handled handgun, aiming at the stage, and as I would notice it and scream out, a shot would ring out. The lights would go out, customers would be scrambling, the fuse box would be located, the lights switched back on, actors would be seen embracing each other and members of the audience would be surprised to find themselves embracing someone other than their spouse. As we try to compose ourselves we'd realize that my overly confident, know-it-all, originally-to-my-left, now my to-the-front-of-me neighbor was shot. After all, she was seated at the first table closest to center stage. As we would kneel down, clutching her napkin, in an overly dramatic way, she'd play out her dying scene. We'd hear Columbo pull up out front, where the eager valet would be waiting to park his misfiring car, and as Peter Falk entered the theater, everyone would stand and applaud. With an unlit cigar in his hand he would approach my now to-the-front-of-me neighbor, she would smile and we would all be in on the joke. Now knowing it was an 'extra' for the critics. We'd get a great laugh and enjoy the remainder of the play. Which by the way, was great!
You pull up outside of the dinner theater where you are greeted by an eager parking attendant working for tips and a low hourly rate. You hand him the keys to your minivan, knowing it will be returned in good condition because, well, it's a minivan. You walk into the lobby where the host is dressed in a jacket that is too tight, he is seemingly playing a character from the 30's, but his flamboyance is way too big. After he takes your name, checks off your reservation, he says, "Walk this way." You hesitate, the thought of him sashaying away hits your mind immediately, you fight the urge to laugh, compose yourself and as if on cue, he sashays up a hall lined with cheaply framed, autographed, black & white pictures of past performers. As you ascend up the slight incline, passing the kitchen and restrooms there is the familiar fragrance of long ago smoked cigarettes lingering. Upon arrival at the velveteen draped entrance you are hoping that you do not enter under the bright glare of a spotlight as an overexcited announcer introduces you, asking everyone to stand and applaud as you make your way in. As you cross the threshold, you cautiously look around and realize you are on the top level of a three level dining room. Everyone turns to watch you descend the staircase, there is no great fanfare, so you proceed to the floor level, second table from center stage in which you have paid premium rates. Noticing the decor you listen as the 'mobster' host tells you the name of your server, get this, 'The Dazzling Domino', could you hear the drum roll in your head? You sit down, in close proximity to your neighbors to the right, left and back of you as your 'mob' host departs. You look around, waiting for 'The Dazzling Domino' to approach you, and you realize there are people entering that are familiar to you. You know this can't be, you're over 500 miles away from home. Then as your chatty neighbor leans over the table to her guest and does the roll and lean in your direction, she shares with you the who's-who in the theater as she beams with pride. As my friend Renee' would say, she was quite the "braggart". Unfortunately, her guest couldn't hear very well and she effortlessly repeated her every word with confidence, as she leaned back in her chair, adjusting her napkin, with a look of contentment. The buffet was in the center of the floor on the lowest level and eventually it would be rolled away and the stage would be rolled out. So, as you are waiting, the quite Dazzling Domino appears, bringing water and shares with you the particulars of the "Celebration Package" you have purchased. You go to the buffet, get your plate, and you are distracted by the conversations you are eavesdropping in on, "how many cities they have toured", "roles they have turned down", "who they met" and "how they actually look off stage", when you realize you are holding up the line and pick over what you think you may want to eat. Then you get to the carving station, get your prime rib and pork loin, grab a roll and head back to your seat. As you approach your table you realize that your white swivel bucket chair is truly a toss back from the 70's and hope that as the night progresses, you will be cautious when you go to stand. You sit down, adjust your napkin, place your silverware in its correct order, after all you are at The Golden Apple. You gently run your hands from the center of your table to the edges and giggle inside as you think, "What, no linens? Just vinyl?" As you cut your meat one bite at a time, remembering the rules of etiquette, you chew the tender meat. Your eyes scan the room and you wonder, outloud, if this is what a cruise ship in the 70's looked like. You say, "Oh no, is this what the Titanic was like?" I never watched the movie, but I hear they all went down in the end...... Anyway, the walls on the top tier were covered in navy blue velveteen with white electric sconces, the second tier was half walls, painted navy, tables had candles for the ambiance and on the floor level were tables lining another half wall, painted navy and tables in the center of the floor. As you read the brochures you realize you are seated in what used to be a Morrison's Cafeteria . At some point in our lives we have all had to resist our cravings and please the palatte of an elderly relative or friend and eat at a Morrison's Cafeteria. Like a bolt of lightening it hits you, you recognize the decor, it is leftovers from an old cafeteria! And the buffet, it too was from the Morrison's cook line. Even the carver at the carving station was from Morrison's. You watch as people enter the theater and you take note that one woman in particular is so familiar, you know that you know her. You are searching your memory bank, as your closely seated neighbor-to-the-left, not-so-discreetly shares her knowledge with her mostly-deaf guest and of course, she does the roll over in your direction, and says, "That is Susan Hayes, Julie, from Days of Our Lives", she smuggly sits back, yet again, adjusting her napkin. You try not to act star struck and attempt to resist the urge to jump up from the white plastic swivel bucket chair and run screaming, "I know you, I grew up watching you, can I have your autograph?" Then it dawns on you, the star of the production, Chicago, in which you have paid for premium seats, is Bill Hayes. Susan's real life husband, get it? It is Doug, Doug from Days of Our Lives!!!!!! You know him too, it's Hope's dad, you have watched him all your life. Oh, how you loved Doug and Julie, surely there was some tragedy that you cheered them on through. There must have been some episode that made you cry, what about those Christmas episodes??? Didn't we all want a Horton Christmas? The entire family laid aside their differnces, stopped sleeping with a family members spouse, or a familiy member, and even Stephano was welcomed. They hung the ornaments with their names on them on the big tree at Grandma Hortons house, that had been, I am sure, destroyed in a fire and amazingly rebuilt and secretly paid for by Stephano...... Like sands through the hour glass, so are the Days of Our Lives........Ah, memories. Then before you stands the 'Dazzling Domino', bringing you back as she asks when would you like your dessert and coffee. "During intermission" we reply, as she leaves, the nosy neighbor says, "I didn't know you got dessert." As you sit back in your chair, adjust your napkin, with contentment you say, "We got the Celebration Package!" Before you know it, the buffet is rolled away and there is the owner, on what will be the area where the stage will be rolled out. Looking like an emcee at a three-ring circus, he welcomes everyone and makes special announcements. As he calls out birthdays, everyone claps. Then he gets to the anniversaries and says, "I understand Tom and Chris are celebrating their 15th wedding anniversary, where are you folks?" Not able to control the redneck in myself, I give a good southern, "WoooHooo", and as everyone claps, he follows it up with, "and they are still sitting at the same table folks!", followed by an immediate rimshot by the drums. Bill Hayes was introduced and there were the cheers that were paying homeage to 'Doug', because they grew up watching him and felt a personal connection, then there were the obligatory cheers because of his wife's presence. Then, well, let's just say, it was time for the show to begin...... I swiveled around from facing the table to facing the stage, which was effortlessly rolled out, very creative and great use of space, "Wasted Spaces" on DIY would be proud! I then met my new-to-the-left-of-me neighbor, the former-to-the-back-of-me neighbor, who leaned over and said, "It's going to a great production tonight. The paper said the critics would be here tonight. My wife says I am too animated, I hope I don't disturb you as I sing along." With as much southern charm as I could muster, I said, "I might join you." (Snickering to myself because I know I suffer horribly from Lyricosis) He settled in his white plastic swivel bucket seat as the lights went down and the flashing neon sign came on, flashing "CHICAGO"! For those of you that don't know me well, know I was intended to marry Michael Douglas, star of "Streets of San Fransisco", "Basic Instinct" and many more. But no, he married Catherine Zeta-Jones, so the lady playing 'Velma Kelly' had one strike against her in my book. Renee Zellweger played 'Roxie' in the movie version so the actress playing that role was preoccupied with attempting to squint her eyes when she smiled and imitate the cute way Renee holds her mouth. The production was terrific, but I found myself distracted by the thought that at some point a man's nicely manicured hand, with a gold and diamond pinky ring, a fashionable 1970's large goldtone ID bracelet, in a ruffled cuffed sleeve with button coverlets and a tuxedo jacket, would ease out between the velveteen curtains, clutching a pearl handled handgun, aiming at the stage, and as I would notice it and scream out, a shot would ring out. The lights would go out, customers would be scrambling, the fuse box would be located, the lights switched back on, actors would be seen embracing each other and members of the audience would be surprised to find themselves embracing someone other than their spouse. As we try to compose ourselves we'd realize that my overly confident, know-it-all, originally-to-my-left, now my to-the-front-of-me neighbor was shot. After all, she was seated at the first table closest to center stage. As we would kneel down, clutching her napkin, in an overly dramatic way, she'd play out her dying scene. We'd hear Columbo pull up out front, where the eager valet would be waiting to park his misfiring car, and as Peter Falk entered the theater, everyone would stand and applaud. With an unlit cigar in his hand he would approach my now to-the-front-of-me neighbor, she would smile and we would all be in on the joke. Now knowing it was an 'extra' for the critics. We'd get a great laugh and enjoy the remainder of the play. Which by the way, was great!
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