Saturday, February 05, 2011

Stories from the Back Seat

STARDUSTERS


My crinolines and my dress twirled up around my waist, and my white panties were in plain view when he took the picture. All he probably cared about was capturing the action, the movement, getting his shot, getting home. Or maybe he waited…and waited…for just the right moment at just the right time when a third grader who had an affinity for twirling flashed her panties. I had noticed the man with the camera, but I thought he was someone’s father. He might have been, but the following Wednesday a picture of me with my exposed panties appeared in the local newspaper.

That was the week I refused to go back to square dancing. I had refused before - the first time was when I was told that it was “where boys and girls play in a sort of country dance together.” And, that was the first time my parents told me that I was going. And when the white Pontiac pulled up in front of the house as it did each week, I obediently got in the backseat, stuffing my stupid crinolines in behind me.

Dylan and Maxine Hubert were an overly groomed, childless couple in their late 40’s. The inside of their car smelled like Aqua Net and Winston cigarettes with notes of Jean Nate bath splash and Hai Karate aftershave. “Here’s the celebrity,” Dylan Hubert said as he looked at me in his rear-view mirror. Then, he broke out in song “Here she comes! Miss America!” Maxine turned around from the front seat and said, “Aren’t you excited? Your picture in the paper? I sure would be.” I half-smiled and quietly said, “Yes, but my… my…” I was too mortified to talk about the panties. Talking about them would mean that they had actually happened. “Yes, I’m excited” I lied.

The truth was that I would have given everything to hide out in my room that evening with the Cinderella wallpaper and the record album cast-offs given to me by my older siblings. The albums they no longer wanted because they’d moved on from The Mamas and The Papas or had ended up with two Beatles White albums. The albums that I played on a tiny Fisher Price record player that took me to far off places where songs were sung about blackbirds and Sycamore trees.

I don’t really know how my parents met them, but I’m sure there was some sort of party conversation that took place where the Huberts went on and on about being the King and Queen of The Stardusters, a local square dancing club. And, I’m sure my parents chimed in about their “extremely shy” daughter and how beneficial something like that would be in helping her to come out of her shell. And, before I knew it, two strangers in ridiculous outfits were driving me to a dance at a school auditorium. An arrangement had been made, and I was now an involuntary member of The Stardusters.

I used to stand against the wall, eyes cast down, waiting for a boy to reluctantly approach me and half-way point to me as his dance partner selection, feeling both relief and panic when he did. And when the music started - then and only then - we would quickly join hands and begin. I never looked at the boys. I never saw them. I knew they were there, but I never saw their faces. I felt their hot, sweaty hands in mine, but I never dared look into their eyes for that would surely be the end of me. If I looked into their eyes, they might see me, all the way through me, right down to the bottom of my soul. And even at eight years old, I knew the boys weren’t ready for that.

But then I saw one of the boys, Andy, as he approached me with a huge smile on his face. To see a boy bounding toward me as if he had finally found me, maybe liking me in a nice way, made me feel like I could love Andy. “Guess what? I have a present for you,” he said. For the first time I saw his brownish-blonde hair, his brown eyes sparkling, his crazy 7-year old Jack-o-lantern smile. “Do you wanna know what it is?” he asked. I trusted Andy, now. Andy was my friend, now. Andy was probably going to be my boyfriend. “Yes. I want to know what it is” I said.

The next thing I saw was a newspaper clipping of the white panties picture coming toward me. Andy was laughing loudly and pointing at me as I quickly picked up the clipping from the floor. Then, he joined the other boys across the room as they all laughed and started chanting “I see Paris, I see France-” I ripped up the clipping and threw it in the trash can. And, then…I started to laugh. I laughed and laughed and laughed with the boys who I had never seen before and with Andy who had not found me, after all.

As I rode home in the backseat of the Hubert’s Pontiac, the tears rolled down my face and I quickly wiped them away. The Huberts couldn’t know that I was crying. If they knew, they might not think I was Miss America or a celebrity, after all. The Huberts were good people and the Huberts needed something to believe in....even if it was me.

Copyright (c) 2011-2012 TSOSMMD


Wednesday, August 11, 2010


MESSAGES FROM THE OTHER SIDE

I went in to update the blog today and I found a post in the draft folder written on 8/11/10. I don't remember writing it. In fact, it doesn't sound like me at all. Actually, it sounds exactly like something my mom would have said. I think Marty has hacked into my blog from the other side.

DREAMS 8.11.10

Showbiz will chew you up and spit you out. There's no future in it. You need a job with security. You need a job where you can have healthcare and benefits - medical and dental. I've seen these showbiz types and they'll cut you like a knife, right through the heart.





Friday, August 06, 2010

You sometimes have to lose yourself to find what you're supposed to be.

The most beautiful moments are those when
you realize you aren't asleep
but it feels like a dream.



Wednesday, July 14, 2010




Take a look at the video clips of the National Theatre's staging of War Horse, a production adapted from the Children's story by Michael Morpurgo. The horses are life-size, three-man operated puppets and are amazingly lifelike
in every way.





War Horse trailer:
How they did it:
"Heaven is high and earth wide. If you ride three feet higher above the ground than other men, you will know what that means."
- Rudolf C. Binding

Saturday, July 10, 2010

very special little creatures

Domenica More Gordon is a creator.
She creates life out of felt.
Dog life.
Tiny, little dog life.
The tallest being just 4" tall.

Here's Domenica's website where her work is sold - http://theworkshopedinburgh.com/studio.html

Everything Makes Me Cry.
Even viral videos.


A friend sent me a Youtube link for a video of Frances and Marlow Cowan, an elderly couple who stumbled on a piano in the Atrium of the Mayo Clinic in Rochester New York. They had some down-time and decided to entertain others who were waiting for appointments or test results.

Here's the original video: http:www.youtube.com/watch?v=RI-l0tK8Ok0

When I saw the video, I couldn't help but think of my mom. She died a year ago and I miss her more every day. I used to take her to the Mayo clinic to meet with specialists and she got a lot of help there. It was a positive experience. But, when I saw Frances and Marlow playing the piano at the Mayo Clinic, my first thought was, "Oh no. Which one of them is sick, I wonder?" And, then I started to think, "What about the people in the audience? Are they waiting for tests? Or treatments? Or results? And, what if the results are bad?"

And, then I took a few deep breaths.

And, I thought about how much joy and hope Frances and Marlow had given the people that day and to all the thousands of people who have watched their video. I thought about how much inspiration they would have given my mom if she had been able to witness their impromptu performance. And, I thought about love and the fragility of being human.

Needless to say, Frances and Marlow (is that the greatest name?) became internet superstars. And, thankfully, they were at the Mayo Clinic for a physical - not illness. Here's their follow-up video on Youtube: http:www.youtube.com/watch?v=TUma-9YC32Y&feature=related.

I wish I could have had some more time with my mom. Together, we would have watched the videos of Frances and Marlow,Trololo and Trololo Cat and of course, the smoking baby from Indonesia.

I miss you, Marty. Much love to you.








Monday, June 28, 2010


IN IT TO WIN IT!



Some of my family members recently took a trip to Disneyland. One of my nephews is just three years old, but his parents were bound and determined to get him on all the cool rides, so they lined his shoes with MAXI PADS to increase his height. One cool Disneyland vacation = a lifetime of therapy.
Priceless.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Click here for


THE GREAT FLYDINI

Starring Mr. Steve Martin

Friday, September 26, 2008

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Rising Star
MICHAEL CERA = Superbad

"He's the most original voice in comedy since Will Ferrell appeared on 'SNL.' His sweetness belongs to him and him alone. No one can touch him."
Jason Reitman, Director, 'Juno'
CRITIC'S CHOICE

Sno-Bo

John Currin

American Painter


Heartless


The Cripple



Julianne Moore as The Cripple, Harper's Bazaar



Francis

Monday, September 22, 2008

"I thank my parents for somehow raising me to have confidence that is disproportionate with my looks and abilities. Well done.
That is what all parents should do."

Tina Fey

PRODUCER'S PICK

American Artist Jeff Koons



Balloon Dog


Balloon Flower



Hanging Heart




MJ and Bubbles








Puppy


Rabbit

CRITIC'S CHOICE

Christo and Jeanne-Claude

The Gates, Central Park


Running Fence, Sonoma and Marin Counties





The Umbrellas, Japan





Valley Curtain, Colorado

Sunday, August 24, 2008


PRODUCER'S PICK








postsecret.com



Postsecret is an ongoing community art project where people mail in their secrets anonymously on one side of a postcard.