* 50 Shades of BenGay

Mother never repaid an ill, rude, or cruel deed aimed at her with anything but charity. Not to say she didn’t shed a few tears when they happened, but she never raged and plotted revenge. After the initial pain subsided she would pray for the person’s Highest Good and move on, tucking away the lesson in a journal or the outhouse.  Me, on the other hand, in my oh so much younger days, was a bit of a lose cannon and would sit in a pot of rage days, for stirring up ways to cleverly and deceptively ‘off their heads.’  Maturity eventually set in, but I have to say I never got to that calm grace my mother had in those dreadful situations until a few years ago. Ok, the other day. Mother was a firm believer of Karma.  She never called it that mind you; “Law of the Harvest”, “What goes around comes around”, “Putting it all in God’s hands.”  Those were her terms.  It was Karma non the less. That quiet current of clever energy that neatly, yet powerfully, throws every bit of crap a

35 years ago I finished graduate school and promptly took a job as a flight attendant, much to the chagrin of my mother. When I told her of my plans she slowly peered at me over the top rim of her glasses one eyebrow raised. She then dryly predicted I would be bored stiff within months as the job was akin to slinging hash at 35 thousand feet in a tin can. But, being stubborn like my mother when her mind was made up, I left for training. After six months I had to concede that, as usual, Mother was right and I felt mentally and creatively unchallenged.  Problem was, I moved lock stock and barrel to NYC and was virtually penniless with few other options for acting employment. Truth be known, one reason I choose New York was that I was sure I going to go be discovered  as the newest greatest talent… I mean, I was a grand dame on stage at MSU -  why would I not be on Broadway?  HA!! Reality hits hard some times. 1984. Those were the days before cell phones and unlimited data.  Act

With age comes; grey hairs, knowing the back store places to buy real Olive Oil, and a bit of wisdom…if one is lucky. I am constantly amazed at the providential prosperities afforded to me in life as my theological roots don’t support that concept. Being brought up MS Lutheran, there was always this deep seated fear that a flaming pitchfork would come hurling down from the heavens at any given moment I was doing, (or even thinking), something less than godly. Actually I don’t think that message came from my dad in the pulpit, but rather from my mother. I remember her telling me some friends invited them to a nightclub dinner back in the 1960’s. No one knew it was a topless review. She said she was sweating bullets and praying without ceasing during the entire performance that God would not choose that particular moment to announce Judgment Day. The supreme ‘gotcha’ moment as she knew that meant she would go to straight to hell. I asked her if she didn’t think God would cut her a l

Oct 07, 2016 11:28am There is a deep sadness that veils a mother’s heart when she sees her mothering days are at an end. It’s not a sudden awareness. We know the sun will set every day and yet we don’t think about it when we are enjoying it’s rays on our face. But the dusk comes and cannot be denied. We yield to the inevitable and loosen our grip, holding on to a candle’s flame of light that keeps the memories alive. There is also a deep pride that swells in her heart when she sees this separate human being she helped create radiate independence, perseverance and strength apart from her. As much as she wants to claim those traits as the dregs of her teachings, she sees that her child learned in spite of her meddling and chuckles. “Thank God.” Some paths to this day of independence were well laid and executed much like meticulously following the directions for a complicated Lego structure. Others, like mine, well… we threw away the directions long ago and merrily (sometimes f

The very first Theatre class I taught at Michigan State cuffed me with the startling revelation that few, if any, of my bright eyed but moderately talented students would ever make it to Broadway.  So why continue teaching Theatre? Many people are under the false assumption that the study of Theatre is only for those interested in a career in entertainment. Whereas I did follow the professional path for years, I have come to see what the Masters have known for millenniums: Theatre is a reflection of life with valuable lessons on every page for everyone. For that reason, every year I disrupt my busy schedule of running my business, and teaching as an adjunct professor at UNC-FSU, to collaborate with a colleague to direct their Middle School musical. This year that musical is Fiddler on the Roof .  The timing could not be more perfect, as this year also the State legislation has proposed a cut in education urging the defunding of teachers in the Fine Arts. After all, Fine Ar