Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

INTERVIEW ON AUTHOR TURF

Interview with Award-Winning Author Jennifer Kirkeby

Jennifer KGet to know Jennifer…

JENNIFER KIRKEBY is an actress, playwright and children’s writer. Kirkeby adapted ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas; The Far-Fetched Fable of the Frog Prince; Madeline’s Christmas,based on the book by Ludwig Bemelmans; and Dot and Tot of Merryland, all of which are published by Dramatic Publishing. Other adaptations include Nancy Carlson’s Harriet and Walt, a musical about sibling rivalry, (Samuel French); Llama Llama Holiday Drama and Llama Llama Red Pajama by Anna Dewdney;Aladdin and His Magical Lamp; The Mitten by Jan Brett; The Paperbag Princess by Robert Munsch; Click Clack Moo: Cows That Type, and Giggle Giggle Quack and Duck for President by Doreen Cronin, and If You Give A Moose A Muffin by Laura Numeroff. Original plays include Midlife Madness, an adult comedy; and Eyes Wide Open, a play about eating disorders (Samuel French). Her ten-minute play, The Glass House has won numerous national awards. Several of her monologues and scenes have been published by Smith & Kraus Publishers in Audition Arsenal for Women in Their 30s and volumes 2 & 4 of Winners Competition Series. Kirkeby is a member of The Dramatists Guild of America, Inc., The Playwrights’ Center and American Federation of Television and Radio Artists and SCBWI. For more info, visit her websiteblog, and Facebook.

Quirky Questions 

What do you think will be the next popular catch phrase?

Quirkalicious. 

What do you do every day, without fail?

Look forward to that first cup of coffee! 

What is something you wish you did every day, without fail?

Live in the present. I try, but it’s a tough one for me. 

If you could dis-invent one thing, what would it be?

Nylons. No one should be made to feel like a sausage in a casing. 

What makes you want to throw up?

Abuse and cruelty. 

What makes you laugh until tears roll down your cheeks?

I’m going to tell you, but you can’t tell my husband. We recently got new cable, and the Comcast guy explained to me that one of our remotes can change stations, volume, etc. even if you’re not in the same room as the TV. So I sometimes take that control, go upstairs, and change the channels and volume on my unsuspecting husband. He hasn’t caught on yet because I don’t do it too often. Timing is everything. I find it hysterically funny. Don’t feel too sorry for him, though. He used to stand in our closet wearing a scary Halloween mask and wait for me to walk in until I destroyed it. The mask. Not the closet. 

What compliment do you wish someone would give you?

“Your writing made me feel like there is someone in the world who truly understands and cares about me.” 

What do you waste time doing?

Facebook. 

What’s the biggest inconvenience about where you live?

That’s an easy one, boy-you-betcha. Winters in Minnesota. They are inconvenient in many ways.

1. You freeze your face off, (and other important things).

2. You have to drive in very dangerous and slippery conditions. I’m from California, so this took me a while.

3. You have to shovel. Especially when your husband had hand surgery during a record-setting snowy winter so he could golf in the spring, and your snow blower was broken. Like this past winter for example. Do I sound bitter? HOWEVER, I’m convinced these pesky winters are one of the reasons we have a plethora of amazing writers in Minnesota, so there’s the upside for ya! 

If you were a professional wrestler, what would your name be?

Kirkeby the Krusher.

If you could own a store, what would you sell?  

Books for animals. Maybe it’s just my dogs, but they love it when I read to them. My daughters are in their twenties, and suddenly they think they’re too old to be read to. They actually get embarrassed when we go to Target and I head to the picture books and start reading to them. Can you believe it? So yeah, Baboon Books it is. 

What book (either because of its length or subject) intimidates you?

Moby Dick. 

What was your favorite childhood meal?

Tomato soup and grilled cheese. My mom would make it for me when I was sick, and I felt comfort and love in every bite.

TenWriting Questions

Ever feel you have to censor your creativity because you don’t want to offend anyone?

No. I believe your character must be 100% authentic. Your character needs to talk the way they would talk in real life, and do the things they would do if they were living down the street. Besides, no one can pick out a poser faster than a young person, right?

Do you do anything special to get your creative juices flowing?

Walking helps my creativity. Or reading a great book or blog from a writer that I admire. And here’s where my theater background comes in. I talk to my characters. I ask them lots of questions. It’s their story after all. They should be willing to pull their own weight now and then. It’s surprising what they’ll tell you if you get them at the right time. And give them chocolate.

What are your words of wisdom for someone starting out in the field of writing?

Ask yourself why you want to write. Is it solely because you want to become published? Because that’s the wrong reason to write. Ask any writer you admire about that one. You have to LOVE writing. Perhaps you want to change people’s perceptions, inform or entertain, or maybe you want to release some nagging pain that you’ve been carrying around since childhood. Just know that like anything, it takes years and years and YEARS to become a good writer. Join SCBWI, take classes and read. Read as much as you possibly can.

How would you define creativity?

A glorious gossamer of amazing thoughts that magically form themselves into a work of art. Not really. I just wanted to write “glorious gossamer.” I would define creativity as a need to express and communicate with others in a fresh and unique way. It might come out of an injustice that you experienced. It could come from a hummingbird that looked right at you, and you’ll never forget that glorious moment. All I know is when I’m in the zone, there is nothing like it.

Why were you drawn to a career in writing rather than a job that offers more stability?

I’ve been involved in theater and dance most of my life, so clearly I never went for stability and security…but even before I began school, I would “write” choreography. I would map out my dance with squiggles for turns, sharp jutting lines for leaps, etc. I wrote some poetry on a dare in high school and was secretly thrilled that it was chosen for a book and published in our local paper. I was the feature editor for my college paper, and began writing plays about fifteen years ago. I’ve written for the classroom for over 30 years. It really comes down to my utter stubbornness and need to live my life in the arts in order to make sense of the world.

Who do you consider a literary genius?

Hemmingway, Camus, Kafka, Steinbeck, Ray Bradbury & Libba Bray. I also think there are literary geniuses writing picture books. I’ve come to the conclusion that picture books are like Zen paintings, and you must be a master in order to be brilliant at it.

What obstacles have you had to deal with in your career?

Rejection. My husband said something years ago that has always helped me. After finding out that I didn’t get a job I thought I had nailed, he said: “Now you’re one audition closer to getting your next job.” It’s a process. I’ve had to change the way I perceive the word “rejection.” I try not to let it be personal. Often the people who we think are judging us and our work are actually hoping we’re a fit. It makes their job so much easier if we are. I try to be the answer to their problem, always give my very best, and if it doesn’t work out, I go for a walk then start on my next project. After I cry, of course. I am human after all.

What are the biggest challenges you’ve experienced in the realm of your art?

Keeping myself motivated when there are long stretches where I feel like I’m limping along barefoot on an endless hot and sticky highway, seeing nothing on the horizon but the mirage that’s shimmering like a mean girl who won’t let me play on her team because I’m afraid of getting hit on the head with the ball, but how is that my fault when my dad said I couldn’t play ball when I was a kid because I was “just a girl”, and the black tar of the road goes on for an eternity and seems to be saying: “What’s the matter, Jennifer? Can’t take the heat?” And I really can’t sometimes, but that highway doesn’t seem to give a hoot, so I wait for the black limo that will eventually pull up, roll down its window, and someone who looks a lot like George Clooney says, “You look like you could use a ride and a cool drink. And say, are those manuscripts in your sweaty hand? How about if I look at your writing, and maybe hook you up with some of my friends?” And scene.

How did you pick your writing genre?

Currently I’m working on a musical for children, a YA magical realism manuscript and several picture books. I haven’t landed on one genre because I love so many things in each of them.

What life experiences have inspired your work?

I think being the oldest of four kids had something to do with it. I babysat a lot and loved to tell stories. Some were horrific and I have apologized multiple times to my siblings about the ghost family I told them haunted our house when they were young. And how President Washington was killed by a crocodile that came out of the drain in his bathtub. My poor brother shared that story with his class, and everyone laughed at him including the teacher. It’s amazing my siblings still talk to me…

How do you know when a book is finished?

With my plays, it’s the deadline. I complain about them, but honestly, they are the best thing for me. Otherwise, I seem to think that I’ll come up with something brilliant if I just keep on writing, but the truth is, I’m prolonging the ending which should have happened already, and now the kids are squirming in the parent’s seats, and it’s my fault because I thought that I was being amazing by adding those extra scenes, but now half the audience needs to go to the bathroom, so for the love of Pete, end it already!   

What impact (good or bad) do you think the media has had on your work?

I remember when GPS became available. I wrote a skit about a GPS that talked to a teenage couple on a date. It told them what the other one was really thinking. Another example is when I adapted Doreen Cronin’s wonderful picture book, Click Clack Moo: Cows That Type for Stages Theatre CompanyWe used a large screen to show the words as the cows and Farmer Brown were typing them. The kids in the audience squealed and loved seeing the words. There are so many great opportunities to work with the crazy world media is creating. But when all is said and done, it’s still great story and character that’s the most important. 

What traits do creative people have compared to people who are not creative?

Creative people are dreamers. They see things differently. They’re extremely sensitive. They’re walking microscopes and telescopes. They don’t just listen – they’re sponges. Not that other people don’t do these things, but creative people have superpowers.

I love my husband to pieces, but we have very different sensibilities in this area. When we were first dating, we were standing on a mountain. I looked around at the startling blue sky, the soft mountains that looked as if they could stand and become dinosaurs, the way the sun lit up the valleys and how the trees swayed in the breeze. I was thinking about the wonderful life that we were going to have together. I assumed he was having similar thoughts, so I asked him, “What do you think of when you look around this valley?” He looked right, and left, then pointed and said: “I never noticed the 101 freeway cuts through that mountain over there.” We still laugh about it.

Have your personal expectations limited your creativity? 

Absolutely. My expectations are often ridiculous. When I was in the first grade, we had been practicing our writing, and our teacher was ready to announce who had the best handwriting in class. I fully expected to be called. I held my pencil with robot precision, and already had calluses from trying to be “perfect.” When our teacher said, “Rocky Carzo”, I could barely hold back the tears. I wasn’t perfect. But Rocky was. Even sharing this makes me sad. That I was so hard on myself. And still am. This month I read a great blog called The Crushing Weight of Expectations by Robin LaFevers. She quotes my hero, Anne Lamott who said: “Expectations are resentments under construction.” We have to let go of the unrealistic expectations and those voices that tell us we aren’t good enough. That’s just silly. Find your voice and write up a storm. There’s nothing like it!

Twas the
Share

About Brittney Breakey

I love reading children’s fiction, coffee dates with my husband, trips to the library, thrift store bargains, chips and salsa, music of all kinds, lazy summer days, competitive games of Pictionary, and celebrating a long day of writing with ice cream and peppermint tea. I’m a two-time graduate of the Institute of Children’s Literature, and I’m currently working on a humorous mystery for middle graders. I launched Author Turf in January 2011, and it has been an absolute honor to work with so many inspiring authors, promote their work, and learn about their writing processes. I hope you enjoy each and every interview.

Saturday, December 31, 2011

HAPPY NEW YEAR!


All right. Time to make those resolutions. I have  8-1/2 hours to come up with all of those things that I meant to do last year and the year before that. This year I'm going to keep it simple. Maybe that way I'll actually get some of them done.

1. EXERCISE MORE. It's important to exercise. But I live in Minnesota and it gets so cold here your eyeballs freeze open if you're not careful.

2. EAT BETTER. You are what you eat, right? But wait. That means I'll end up a vegetable if I eat too healthy. Better keep those chocolates in my drawer.

3. GET A MAMMOGRAM. I do this yearly, I promise. But every since a girlfriend of mine told me about a lady who was getting a mammogram and suddenly a fire alarm went off and the nurse ran away leaving the poor lady squished helplessly in the machine, I've been putting them off until the last minute. The fire alarm was just a drill by the way, but I'll bet that lady takes a few friends with her whenever she goes in for her mammogram.

4. ENTERTAIN MORE. Actually, I should just write entertain. The last time I had anyone over was my brother-in-law for Thanksgiving and he brought the turkey.

5. BECOME ORGANIZED. I really tried this year. I made so many "to do" lists, I could wallpaper my house with them. I put things in order, broke down what had to be done, and started off with a bang. The problem is, I can't find any of those lists now.

6. DRESS MORE FASHIONABLY. My daughters have pointed out that many of my clothes are outdated. They even helped me clean out my closet. Very thoroughly I might add. However, all of the clothes I gave away are now back in style. I don't see the point in buying clothes that I was forced to give away in the first place. But OK, maybe this wouldn't be such a bad idea.

7. BE MORE POSITIVE. You know how it goes. Sometimes you see the glass half full, sometimes it's half empty. I'll admit that while I appear to be a very optimistic person, I often make things much harder than they are. Attitude is everything. Well, that and accessories I hear.

8. BLOG MORE FREQUENTLY. I'm a writer, so I really should blog more than twice a year.

8 more hours until 2012! I'll probably think of some more resolutions that I may or may not do. But in the meantime, I'm going to walk my dogs, find a nice outfit to wear for tonight, eat my greens, and start on a new list. But I am not going to have a mammogram today. No way.

Sunday, July 31, 2011

CHECK OUT MY ALTER EGO, MISS HANNIGAN'S SHENANIGANS!

Greetings, fellow Blogsters! I am currently playing the very glamorous role of Miss Hannigan in Stages Theatre Company's production of ANNIE JR. The blog is called: Hannigans Shenanigans and I hope that you will check it out! I love answering questions, so please send me one! My latest blog includes a few moves that you are NOT going to want to miss! Here you go:

http://hannigansshenanigans.blogspot.com/2011/07/miss-hannigans-dance-moves.html

Sunday, January 3, 2010

Beware of the Person in the Next Stall

Years ago my girlfriend and I went to the lovely Dorothy Chandelier Pavilion to see "Annie Get Your Gun." My girlfriend, Patty was going to be playing Annie, and I was the choreographer in an upcoming production at The Conejo Players in Thousand Oaks, CA. We were looking forward to seeing the Los Angeles Production, and we certainly weren't disappointed.

During intermission, we waited in the perpetually long line for the restroom while the men swiftly and easily went in and out of theirs. Once in our stalls, I looked to my left at Patty's lovely espadrilles under the dividing wall. She had recently purchased them, and I couldn't wait to get a pair. Patty was always a step ahead of me in fashion, and I would often take my cue from her as to what to buy.

I decided to play a trick on my unsuspecting girlfriend. I've always enjoyed playing silly, innocuous tricks on my friends. While still admiring her lovely sandals, I reached under the stall divider and untied Patty's right espadrille. Whoosh! Easy! So easy in fact that I made a mental note that when I bought my own pair, I would double knot the laces so this wouldn't happen to me.

Patty screamed. I laughed. But I knew that time was of the essence. I didn't want to lose the element of surprise. I moved in for the second one. I reached all the way over and untied her other lace. She screamed again. I laughed even harder and said: "I got you!"

I left my stall and went to the sink to wash my hands. Still chuckling to myself, I watched Patty's door in the mirror waiting for her to come out. I imagined that it was taking her some time to retie her sandals. I looked down the long full bathroom, and saw...Patty! She was washing her hands at the other end of the room!

Nothing can describe the panic that I felt. I motioned frantically for Patty to hurry. "What?" What's the matter?" she said as I quickly pushed her out of the bathroom. "Shhh! Don't say anything!" I whispered hoping that nobody would later be able to recognize my voice. Surely the victim in the stall was already making mental notes of the perpetrator!

Once we were out of the bathroom, I said: "Walk this way!" I zigged and zagged as fast as I could until I felt that we were in a safe zone and that no one there would recognize my shoes. Then I began to laugh. And laugh. It took me a while to tell Patty what had happened. When I did we both howled until tears ran down our cheeks.

Despite the humor of the situation, I've always felt truly sorry for the poor woman in the stall. I'm sure that it was a frightening experience. So, in the unlikely event that she reads this, I would like to publicly apologize for untying both of your espadrilles. If nothing else, perhaps you can take comfort in knowing that you have fabulous taste in shoes!

Sunday, May 17, 2009

The Bear Jumped Over The Moon

Photo by Bruce Challgren: http://www.photopixels.com/

It's a big responsibility performing a well-known story such as Goodnight Moon in front of children. Most of them know every word by heart. Playing the Old Lady Bunny a few months ago, I began to recite the beloved words: "In the great green room there was a telephone, and a red balloon, and a picture of ..."

And that's when it happened! In that moment, I couldn't remember which animal jumped over the moon! The whole show is made up of animals. There is the mouse, the dog, the cat, the COW and of course the main character, the Little Bunny. In my defense, right before I began my lines, something had fallen. It was loud. I was momentarily distracted and concerned that someone might have been hurt. Also, you must know that the boy who played the cow also played one of the three bears.

Regardless, what came out of my mouth was: "In the great green room, there was a telephone, and a red balloon, and a picture of the bear jumping over the moon." To add insult to injury, the lights came up on the picture for all to see of the cow jumping over the moon. (See above photo.)

There was a pregnant pause. Some whispers in the audience. I can only imagine what the children were saying. "Mommy, is that a bear?" "Daddy, the cow jumped over the moon, right?" Or more likely: "That lady doesn't know what the heck she's talking about!"

It's amazing what the mind goes through in just a matter of seconds. I thought: "Should I tell the Little Bunny that of course I meant to say: "Cow" and not "Bear?" Should I refer to the bear as a cow for the rest of the show for consistency? Should I stop the show and make an announcement? All actors know this feeling - it's aptly called the Actor's Nightmare.

Of course the show always must go on. And it did. Quite nicely, thank you. But I never lived it down. Every time the cast did a microphone check prior to one of our shows, someone would say: "And the bear jumped over the moon!" Great laughter followed. Of course, I was always afraid that I would say the line wrong again. I would sit in my rocking chair at the beginning of each show and say the line correctly over and over again like a mantra. Luckily, I got it right for the rest of the performances.

But really, if you think about it, a bear does have about as much of a chance to jump over the moon as a cow does...

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Martha's Magical Morning

My sister Martha is a wonderful artist. Not long ago, she read a post from the beautiful blog: A Fanciful Twist. http://afancifultwist.typepad.com/. The post was about embracing the beauty of nature. Martha had been particularly busy that week, and decided to take a moment for herself before her three teenagers woke up.

Energized by the beauty and wonder of the world around her, she opened her front door to skip outside into the garden of inspiration. Fairies were sure to be there welcoming her, along with the birds, butterflies, and flowers brimming with creative guidance and a spiritual muse or two.

What happened instead was this: Two birds flew into her house. Martha has 2 Golden Retrievers, and well, they aren't called "bird dogs" for nothing. Tweety #1 was the lucky one. She navigated herself back outside. Tweety #2 wasn't so fortunate.

The dogs, Sunny and Stormy, began doing what they do in nature - chasing feathered flying things. Tweety #2 flew into a window and fell. Sunny rushed to the rescue, and happily picked her up. She then began running around the house with pride. Martha reacted the same way that I would and began screaming: "No! Sunny, no! Drop it, drop it! No! Aughhhhhh!!!! Cookie! Cookie!"

Sometimes a bribe can work in a case like this. Sunny fell for it, and dropped Tweety in hopes of a cookie. Unfortunately, before Martha could react, Stormy picked up the bird and began to run around the house wagging her tail proudly, certain that she too would be rewarded with a cookie.

Martha began screaming: "Somebody, help me!" as she chased Stormy. Sunny smiled at the turn of events and began chasing Martha. My poor sister was sobbing, pleading, bribing Stormy with treats, back rubs, stock options - anything and everything that she could think of. By now, her three teenagers began to cautiously emerge from their rooms, certain by the sound downstairs that their mother was being attacked. Her oldest son was at the ready with a baseball bat. Her daughter and younger son had their cell phones, ready to press "send" after already having pressed 9-1-1.

I'm sorry to report that Tweety #2 didn't make it. We can only hope that the flight into the window was when she met her Maker. All we know for sure is that Tweety had a nice burial and is in a better place.

Martha's moral for this story: When looking outside for magic, remember to close the door behind you.


Thursday, February 26, 2009

No Returns, No Exchanges, No Checks!!!

There is way too much stress in this world. A while ago my husband and I waited in line to purchase a few items at a hardware store. The line was longer than we in America like to stand in, and there was frustration building. You could feel it. You know what I'm talking about. Heads begin to look around as if that action will beckon the arrival of another cashier. People begin to throw their hip out and exhale. Loudly. I know because I am usually one of those people. But on this day, I didn't really mind the line.

As hoped for, and most certainly brought on by the body language of the increasingly frustrated customers, a new cashier came to open up another register. Oh joy. We wouldn't have to wait those few minutes longer for "those slow people in front of us". Have you ever noticed that no matter what, the person in front of you always feels like "a slow person"?

But I must move on to the point. I tend to ramble, and I'm really working on that. Where was I? Oh yes, a new line! Choirs began to sing! Rose petals fell from the rafters! And my husband and I were the lucky ones who were called upon to be first in this new line! However, the new cashier looked stressed. Very stressed. Even angry. I don't know what had happened to her that day, but I decided to try and help her out of her funk. Let's call her, Matilda.

Matilda said in a very authoritative voice: "I'm open. No returns, no exchanges, and no checks!!!" That's when my plan went into action. I place my three items down, and pointed to each item, one at a time. I said: "I need to return this, exchange this, and I'll need to write a check for this." A moment of silence. But not for long.

Matilda responded loudly: "I just said: No returns, no exchanges, and no checks!!!" Then the people behind me began getting mad. I realized that I had better get out of this fast before Matilda (or someone about to buy a hammer) exploded or threw something at me.

"I was just kidding", I replied with my most award winning smile. No doubt Matilda would begin laughing and her day could start anew. Well, it didn't happen that way. But it did for others. The lady behind me began to laugh. So did a lot of the other people who heard the exchange. The lady behind me, let's call her Grace, said to me: "I can't believe how stressed out I was! When you said that you needed to return, exchange and write a check I got furious! And over such a little thing! Thank you for making me laugh. I needed it!"

Knowing that my work there was done, and seeing that Matilda still wasn't laughing, my husband and I left the store giggling like two little kids. I felt good. I had brightened someones day. Next time I buy groceries, I'm going to pretend that I want to pay with pennies. That ought to be good for a laugh!

Monday, February 16, 2009

Please Don't Flash the Bunny!

I just finished playing the "Old Lady" in a wonderful production of "Goodnight Moon". Chad Henry did an amazing job of adapting the beloved children's book written by Margaret Wise Brown. Many parents read this book about the Little Bunny who keeps finding reasons not to go to sleep to their children until the book's pages are worn from all of the page turning and love.

I was the only adult in the musical. The average age of the cast was 13. Being the only adult has its challenges, but these youth actors were pros.

The reason that I am mentioning the ages of the cast is because as you can imagine, I felt very motherly towards them. When they got sick I told them to drink more water. When they broke a shoelace, I gave them a new one. When they were too loud in the green room...well, I told them. Over a six-week rehearsal period and a five-week performance schedule doing 9 shows a week, we got to know each other very well.

"Goodnight Moon" was an adorable show visually. It was intentionally designed to look just like the book, and it did. Our mostly young audience sat spellbound for the most part. "He sat at the edge of the seat the whole time!" "She wants to come and see the show again!" "This is our first show, and we'll be back!" "He's never been quiet for a whole hour since he was born!" were some of the many comments that we heard in the receiving line.

We had many first time theater-goers. And with first time theater-goers, mistakes are bound to be made. (Can you feel the tension mounting???)

Most people understand that having a cell phone go off during a movie or live theater production is not acceptable. It is disruptive and rude. I heard a story of an actor who chased the offender with the cell phone out of the theater screaming at him (the offender apparently decided to answer his phone and have a discussion during this actor's scene onstage). Most actors that I know have had similar thoughts, but haven't carried them out.

At the beginning of each of our shows an announcement is made welcoming the audience and then giving them a few simple rules. One of those simple rules is: "Flash photography, cameras and recording equipment of any kind are not allowed in the theater." Seems reasonable to me. Clear, concise and easy to understand.

Let's review the reasons flash photography is not allowed:

1) It blinds the actors. They could fall and break something.

2) It is rude. It distracts other theater goers who might not like a bright flash to occur during their theater going experience.

3) It is illegal. The set designer, costume designer, director, choreographer, writer, prop designer are all artists who have created a piece of art. Copyright laws are broken when someone takes a picture of their work without their permission.

4) Did I mention it blinds the actors?

Even with the pre-show announcement and the fact that it is also written in the program, there are inevitably people who don't know any better. A flash will go off here and there. When that happens, the House Manager politely asks them to stop. This usually works. However, one day we were besieged. It was as if a group of people had carefully planned their attack. Here is what I imagine their meeting sounded like:

MARY: OK. We'll take a few flash pictures during the show. Not too many - we don't want to get caught.

BRUNO: That's right. I just got out of the joint. Food's terrible! I'll sit in the left of the theatre. Mary, you sit in the right.

SPIKE: I'll sit in the middle of the theatre, so they can't get to me. Besides, I still got that warrant out on me.

MARY: Good thinking, Spike! During the finale, take as many flash pictures as you can. I don't see any cops! The car's waiting out back.

SPIKE: Got it!

During our finale, we sang: "Keep a Positive Attitude". As you might imagine, it is an upbeat, happy, optimistic song, and we were all smiling and singing our hearts out. That's when Spike clicked off at least five flash pictures in a row. Bruno and Mary were clicking away as well. I had held it in for as long as I could. But we all have our breaking point. This Bunny's carrot cracked.

You see my photograph. I don't look very intimidating. Actually, I am almost 5'9" and dressed like a...bunny, so I had that going for me. We were all being blinded by the constant flash. The cast kept smiling and singing. But like I said, my carrot had cracked.

I stepped out of the line and toward the audience. I held up my hand like Diana Ross when she sings: "Stop in the Name of Love". I looked right at the perpetrator and shook my head: "NO!" I wasn't smiling. I had lost my positive attitude. I was thinking about the kids. How they had performed through sickness and health, broken shoelaces and ripped pants. Struggled with keeping up at school, and all of the drama that we all went through at that age. And yet, here they were singing and dancing and smiling only to be blinded by Spike.

The flashing stopped. I stepped back in line. I put my smile back on. I finished singing and dancing with the cast.

Did I do the right thing? I felt badly for the 700+ other audience members who weren't taking pictures. But it had to be done. A lesson had to be learned. Hopefully those people who felt compelled to take pictures of the cast won't do it anymore. And if I have saved even one bunny from being flashed, well then, it was worth it.

Friday, November 14, 2008

Facebook Fiasco

When I decided to join Facebook, my daughters didn't seem too delighted. As a matter of fact, they had been discouraging me from entering into this unknown-to-me-world, primarily because: "It's for young people, mom!" I resisted for some time. I told my daughters that if I did join Facebook, it was o.k. if they didn't want to be my “friend”. I wanted them to continue to feel perfectly free to share their innermost feelings with their “friends” without their mom looking on. I mean, seriously! However, when my girlfriend moved across the country and told me that Facebook was the best way for her to stay in touch, I took the plunge.

Unfortunately, both of my daughters were away at college, so I couldn't ask them to help me set it up. I was determined, however. I forged ahead. I put on my reading glasses. That helped right away. Amazingly, I actually figured it out by myself. I have yet to understand how one adds photos and all of the necessary accoutrements, but I decided that there is time for all of that later. After all, I was now a member! Part of the elite club. I watched and waited. The anticipation built. How many friends would I make, anyway? Ten? Twenty? Or ...dare I even dream? Fifty?!? Wait. Did I even have any friends besides my girlfriend who moved to Arizona? It's not as if I've been a great correspondent over the years.

And then it happened. I made a friend. And then another. And before I knew it, I made more. And more. Facebook is kind of like a fungus. It just grows and grows. I began to enter names from my past. A few of them emerged. Most of them allowed me into their Facebook world. The ones who didn’t probably knew I wasn’t ready. I made more friends in a week than I had made in the last ten years.

I should have been suspicious right then and there. I should have seen it coming. But I was too excited counting my new friends! Twenty five, twenty six… eighty! And then, there it was. A message from …my dad. OMG! He is eighty years old, and I love him to death. He still rides a bike almost everyday. And he doesn’t just ride around the block, kids. Oh no. He rides fifty to sixty miles each time he goes out. He puts most of us to shame. But being the amazing father that he is, he didn’t just open a Facebook account which I apparently invited him to do. He posted pictures. OF HIS KIDS!!!

Suddenly, there I am in front of all of my new friends in a bathing suit, wearing no make-up, my hair slicked back, scowling at my precious nephew as I was trying to teach him to dive into a pool last summer. Apparently I hadn’t had Botox in a while, either. I texted my daughters for advice. They told me that now I knew how they felt. Oh what a tangled web we weave! I knew the ball was in my court.

I emailed my dad. “Hi Dad! How are you? I see that you are on Facebook. Cool! Would you please remove the picture of me by the pool in my bathing suit with no make-up, my hair slicked back, scowling at John as I was trying to teach him to dive? Love, Jennifer.” He removed the picture.

I haven’t actually talked to him since then. Oh, we’ve emailed. But we didn’t mention “the photo.” So, I wonder. Is Facebook a good thing for me? For my dad? Or would we have been better off just leaving it to whom it was first intended: The cool young people that my daughters are, that I once was, that my father perhaps still thinks I am. I suppose time will tell. In the meantime, I now have ninety nine friends, and if you think I’m stopping now honey, you just don’t know me at all!

LinkWithin

Related Posts Widget for Blogs by LinkWithin