THE GOLD IN AGING

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Each year becomes more of a struggle. We trudge through life, with goals, hopes and dreams. We reach the epitome of living and wonder who we are, why we’re here and where we’re going. Within the blink of an eye, a life rushes through time for what? We live to die. We die to live.

People are living longer, healthier lives today. Yet somehow they’re perceived as useless. They face each day with a sense of optimism. Their bodies have lost their youthful zip. Life remains, but much has been sapped from it. The work they used to accomplish seems like a forgotten dream. They’ve had their ups and downs – put their faith in God’s grace – get by on a meager income, but it’s been that way for most of their lives together. They scrimp and make do with what they have.

Who would’ve thought that so many years ago, this vibrant couple would come to this? They’re both full of thoughts and brilliant ideas, but are unable to carry them out. They’re filled with humor, creativity, joy, wisdom, life skills, stories and so much more.

We often think of how sad it is to lose our memory or our ability to think. When dementia or Alzheimer’s sets in, it’s like a one way ticket to a nursing home or memory care facility. What of those who are mentally sharp yet have lost their vigor and strength? Where do they fit in?

Some think of the elderly as a drain on society. Some would pack them up and send them to another planet where they’d eventually give up and die. We forget that they’ve accumulated a lifetime of knowledge through experience and are willing to share it.

They’ve seen many changes. They’ve seen wars, alterations in government, the demise of the family as we knew it, the insecurity of the young, a rise in mental illness; the inability of people to care about each other, turning their concerns inward. They’ve seen an increase in criminal activity, disrespect for law and order and protests spinning out of control. They’ve noticed a decrease in church attendance in the last twenty years and a turn to “feel good about yourself” religions.

They’ve seen technology evolve from crank telephones, into hand held devices, small enough to fit in your pocket, still containing the information of the universe. They’ve experienced old style, console radios, which spewed stories that stirred the imagination – portable radios they could take to the beach – huge boom boxes – transistor radios, 8 track tapes, VCR’s, CDs and voice operated information centers called Alexia. They watched their first TV on a huge piece of furniture which housed a tiny black and white screen. Then came color – bigger and better screens – computer controlled and flat screens that fill the room.

When we think of what history has dealt us in the last 70-80 years, it’s astonishing. Think of the wealth of information these elder citizens possess. They hold a bounty of life experience to support it. Maybe if we turn to the elderly and their wisdom, we’ll see a change for the better. They have so much to offer the world when given the opportunity to do so. Give them that chance.

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CRUSHED, BUT NOT DEAD

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ORIGINALLY POSTED 11/06/2017

Ezekiel 37:11-14 “Then he said to me: “Son of man, these bones are the people of Israel. They say, ‘Our bones are dried up and our hope is gone; we are cut off.’  Therefore prophesy and say to them: ‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says: My people, I am going to open your graves and bring you up from them; I will bring you back to the land of Israel.  Then you, my people, will know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves and bring you up from them.  I will put my Spirit in you and you will live, and I will settle you in your own land. Then you will know that I the Lord have spoken, and I have done it, declares the Lord.’”

This entire section of scripture is both frightening and awesome. Our fears of eternal death can be seen in the remains of the skeletons in the above image.  Is that all there is?  Is death the final curtain? It certainly would appear so.

In this story of how God spoke to Ezekiel, the bones of the dead Israelites came back to life, just like the dead bodies in “The Mummy” or Indiana Jones movies.  However this event required no special effects – simply the word of God.  The bones rattled and joined together with tendons and ligaments.  Muscle wrapped around them.  The nervous and circulatory systems were roused and life was breathed into them again.  The heart began to beat – lungs soaked in the fresh air – movement and feeling returned to lifeless shells.

SURE!  Some folks would probably think this is just a story to brainwash simple folks into believing in the power of God, but I believe it is as true as the story of the Great Flood, Jonah in the belly of the whale and Christ rising from death.  Those same people would probably say I don’t have a mind of my own and that my thinking is totally flawed, but without the hope of a better life, I would not be able to endure this one.

With this brilliant illustration, those of us who suffer with arthritis, bone or skeletal conditions, physical pain and even more serious diseases, can be confident that we too will rise from the grip of death to enjoy eternity with God and all the saints.  There is an astounding hope in these words, especially for those who are struggling with physical difficulties. Heaven will erase all pain and suffering.  There will be none.  We can count on it.

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THE MASTER DESIGNER

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ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©

Carved from depths of hardened granite, pushing forth with force unknown,

Placed upon this glorious planet, by the Hand of God alone,

Through His skill and engineering, His design fits every need,

With a simple word adhering, placing land where lakes recede,

Uncorrupted intersections – undefiled throughout the years,

Paths that lead us straight to heaven, deeply etched within the stone,

Crushed at times by disappointment, hardened as through life we groan,

Still the maker of creation, guides us down that fearsome path,

Making safe the road He’s chosen, loves us still despite His wrath,

Crevices and great projections set tightly in a veil of tears,

Tears descending from the Father as He watches His dear Son,

Give His life for every other, so eternal life is won.

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QUIET TIME

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“Age puzzles me. I thought it was a quiet time. My seventies were interesting and fairly serene, but my eighties are passionate. I grow more intense as I age.” Florida Scott-Maxwell

I remember it as plain as day – grandma’s rocking chair.  It sat by the window, overlooking a line of regal pines, which stood as guardians along the path to the house.  It was an old house, but it had seen the activity of farm hands, growing children, friends, illness and death.  The chair is where my grandma found her peace when things were spinning out of control.

She was an amazing woman of strength and boundless love.  As a young woman, she would scavenge the Montana prairie for buffalo chips, to create a fire in the old wood stove of her parent’s home.  A true pioneer woman – with nerves of steel, yet an inner strength and outer beauty that outdid any other.

She married at 18 to a young man who inherited part of the family farm. Yet he was not farmer material.  He grew up with a heart for adventure and desire to spread his wings.  He kept the farm though and hired all the work out.  Grandma would maintain the house, milk the cows, bake fresh bread each day and give birth to seven children – four would die before they reached their 40s.  I imagine Grandma spent a lot of time in that rocking chair, contemplating what God was trying to tell her through this misery.

Still she persevered while her husband worked stringing electrical wire across the vast countryside.  He’d often be gone for weeks.  When day ended, Grandma would again sit in that chair, waiting for him to come home.  Chores were done and at last she had a moment to herself.

Later in life, grandpa experienced a number of strokes which left him bedridden.  The highlight of the day for him would be the ice cream shakes grandma diligently prepared and shared with him.  Again the rocker became her solace as she moved it close to the bed which now filled their living space.  She tenderly cared for this man whom she loved with all her heart, and watched him slowly drift to his eternal rest.

For years she selflessly endured a servant’s heart.  Her love was evident in the clear blue eyes, set within a leathery, wrinkled face.  Those wrinkles were a sign of all the struggles and loss she bore through her life, but the also held lines of laughter and joy, which she generously gave to all who knew her.

I think of that chair often, especially now that I’m about the age she was when she went to heaven to be with her Savior.  When her husband died, the chair became her solace once more.  She rarely moved from it.  I can still imagine her holding her Bible, her lap covered with a patchwork afghan and her lovely blue eyes closing for the last time.

When we get to a certain point in life – when there is nothing left for us to do – we often sit and rock the rest of our lives away.  Maybe it’s time for me to buy an old rocking chair.

 

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WHEN WORLDS COLLIDE

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ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©

Why is it when we strive for peace, in nature’s purest repose,

In quietest tranquility, there’s often none I suppose,

For every sanctuary has its own cacophony,

We try to separate ourselves, but others are also free,

To walk through fields so bounteous, abundance is everywhere,

Yet we are so inward looking, we don’t think that we should share,

Worlds collide when we think that way, that there isn’t room for all,

We believe we’re more important, and that’s our greatest downfall,

For when we combine our talents, great concepts can come to be,

Surrounding ourselves with others, makes sense of insanity,

Our peace won’t come from aloneness, it blooms in togetherness,

When we’re living in harmony, the results are measureless.

 

 

 

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GREEN PASTURES

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ART & INSPIRATION FROM PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©

Slowly crossing the sands of time –  into a pasture green sublime.

I’ll rest my feet and wet my lips, with waters clear and cold that grips.

Through danger I will walk with Him.  He guards me from each foolish sin.

He takes my hand and leads me now to comfort me and show me how

to live my life and live it right and when I stray He sets me right.

When my own final hour comes near, I’ll face my death with no more fear.

I’ll trust in His unfailing love – which He bestows from up above.

With Him in paradise I’ll live.  He promised me He did forgive

each one of my transgressions.

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RESURRECTION

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ART & POETRY FROM PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©

An early morning stroll leads to a tapestry

Of faded leaves and brittle branches,

Colors have reached their apex,

Reds have turned to burnished crimson,

Greens to chartreuse and golden yellows,

The rusted, bronzed oak leaves endure,

Soon they will fall to their doom,

Yet life will return once more,

What pleasure we have in knowing that life does go on,

Even after breath is sapped,

Dreams have been realized,

Disappointments overcome,

We will rise with the end of time.

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EVERYTHING IS GAINED UNDER THE SON

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I find it interesting that time is supposed to move us ahead, but it really doesn’t? In reality, time just repeats itself and history sometimes returns to haunt us. It seems that we go in circles and continue to make the same mistakes our ancestors did. Aren’t we supposed to learn from our errors?

When you think about what we do to make our mark on the world, it really doesn’t amount to much. Whatever we accomplish here will not be remembered for long after we are gone. Even the very famous lose their notoriety once they enter the grave.

One perfect person did leave His mark on the world though. Jesus’ accomplishments are still recognized and hopefully we will continue to pass on what He has done for generations to come. No matter how hard we work in this life, it is all meaningless without our Savior.

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FRY DADDY’S FRIDAY FUNNY

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ON THIS DAY IN HISTORY

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Last night, I tuned into the American Hero channel for the series of programs about the American Revolution.  It was designed to show the unsung heroes of that war – those who made a huge difference in the outcome.  We often hear about the big guys involved in a battle such as Lord Charles Cornwallis and George Washington.  I learned that there were many average citizens of the thirteen original colonies – doctors, housewives, old battle scarred veterans and the young men and women who played a great part in the forming of a new nation.

They all had a united mission.  The mother country was taxing them beyond their means.  Up until that time, there was a mere skeleton crew of British troops to maintain peace.  Once the shot that was heard around the world, killing an innocent child, set the field of battle into motion.  British troops became more apparent in the towns.  Many felt we shouldn’t be ruled by someone who had no knowledge of what was going on in our land?

Wars should be a last resort to any disagreement, but the country was ripe for revolution.  I often wonder if we aren’t on the same track today.  Once we become divided, we’re setting ourselves up for a great fall.

On October 19, 1781, Cornwallis and his army surrendered to George Washington at Yorktown.  A skirmish which began on September 28, 1781 was about to become the beginning of the end of British rule in America.  By then the French had joined forces with the rag tag army of angry militia men, creating a much stronger force. Yet the fact that they were at battle with the strongest military in the world, and defeated them, was nearly inconceivable.

As we consider this day of surrender, let’s remember all the blood that was shed on both sides.  So many lives spent.  So much anger and show of force.  A society bent on becoming independent could do so much with so few and here we are again at another crossroads.

Our nation is bigger than ever.  We have a military force second to none.  We’ve proven our expertise in the areas of technology, medicine and learning, yet we’ve become divided in many ways.  We need to be put back together again and I’m not sure what it’s going to take for that to happen.  Will it be another catastrophe, like 911 to unite us?  Will it take hurricanes and tornadoes and other destruction of nature?  Will it be the stiff necks of those who will not bend? Will it be the end of time?

We cannot predict our future, but we can pray that God would intervene.  That He would bring us back together, so we can live together in harmony instead of looking at the bad in each other.

Dear God,

You formed this nation based on your precepts and tenets.  We started as a melting pot and continue to receive all cultures and religious influences into our land.  We do so because we are a free people.  Yet our freedom is subject to your scrutiny.  Once we turn away from you and your Word, we’re bound for defeat.  Be with the United States.  Strengthen our leaders to fend off controversy and scandal.  Be with them as they make decisions which affect all of us.  Bring us back together again as a nation, without rumblings and insults towards each other.  Our freedom came at a great cost.  Our freedom from sin, cost the life and blood of Jesus, Christ.  Because of your great love for us, and the promise you’ve made to your people, we ask that you once more take control of our country.   Amen!

 

 

 

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MAKING MEMORIES

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ART & INSPIRATION FROM PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©

Memories are like a flash drive.  We store them in our brains for future reference.  We tuck them into another place so we can forget about them temporarily.  We might not like the memory we’ve created so we can delete it if necessary.  Life is made of memories, past, present and future.

Yet even the greatest computer cannot capture the actual memory.  Those things are reserved for our hearts, rather than being placed in a photo – stored on a stick – saved in a scrapbook.  The real treasured memories cannot be replicated, but we can try.

Yesterday was a beautiful autumn day in Minnesota.  The trees screamed with color and leaves danced across the countryside as if in a symphony of God’s making.  It was also a long weekend holiday for our granddaughter as teachers’ convention is reserved for this time of year.  Three extra days to relax, do nothing in particular and spend a little time with grandpa and grandma.  As this lovely young lady will soon be sixteen, I know those visits are becoming fewer and further between, but every time we have together is more treasured than she realizes.

Paul taught his plein air class in the morning.  I’m showing a painting from last year in this post.  It was at the same seasonal time, when we visited the local pumpkin patch and apple orchard.  It was a mirror image of the kind of day we spent yesterday.  Light trickled through the trees as they shed their bounteous, color stained leaves.  Air was unusually fresh and clean.  The sky was the bluest of blues.  After lunch together, we took that same trip – recreating similar memories.  We found a perfect pumpkin, with a gigantic stem and a bag of apples for baking.  From there it was off to the ice cream shop for an afternoon treat.

A simple afternoon to some. To us, a treasured memory with our granddaughter.  Each second we have to share with her, as she becomes a woman, is fleeting.  We know we will see less of her as time goes by.  In two more years, she’ll be ready for college or a career and making her own memories.  During those waning years, we want to soak up as much time with her that we can.  For we know not the balance of our own lives.

Grandchildren are a gift from God.  A treasure we often take for granted.  They remain young for such a short time, so we have to make the most of the time we have together.  The affect we have on the future generation – the impact we can make through our example – the love we lavish them with – the special memories we create – may seem insignificant, but we know that they will be ingrained in her memory bank and ours forever.

PUMPKIN

This is the pumpkin we found.  I’ve never seen such a large, sturdy stem.  Guess Paul will have to carve something into that as well.

 

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JULIE’S FRIDAY FUNNY

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ONE ON ONE WITH GOD

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I’ve always admired King David and his intimate relationship with God.  He messed up, strayed from God’s commandments, yet he was considered the apple of God’s eye.  I often wondered at some of his psalms and the angry demands he made on God.  How could he approach the King of Creation on such a personal level?  How dare he?

Yet, even in his most frustrating moments, David always went to God first – for advice and counsel – for peace – for encouragement, comfort and hope – for forgiveness – for confidence that he could do anything with God at the helm.

So often, my prayers pale in comparison, but that doesn’t matter to our Father, God.  Have you had a one on one conversation with God lately?  There are times I spend countless hours laying out my own plans for my life. I think I can go it alone.  Even those closest to me know that I worry – I fret – I lose hope – I daily say or do the wrong thing.  Still in those moments of weakness, I know that God listens to me.  He won’t desert me.  He promises eternity in heaven.  He never lies and consistently leads me.

Today, take time to talk to Him.  He’s always available 24/7.  Even though He has so many to listen to, He will always have time for us.

Dear, God,

You are my God.  How can I thank you for all you’ve done to get me through this life?  There were so many times when I was the stubborn child who wanted to do it my way, yet you patiently waited for me to return to you.  Your grace should be sufficient for me, but I often think I can handle life by myself.  It is then that I fall.  Help me to rely on you more.  Even as my years are swiftly passing, give me the confidence to depend entirely on you for all my needs – for all my problems, losses and seemingly unanswered prayers.  Remind me that you are always with me.  You will never leave me.  You are the only One that I can trust to be truthful and loving. 

God, you know my needs.  I place them in your hands, trusting that you will fulfill them.  You’ve already given me everything necessary for this life and the next.  Allow me to open my heart to you daily – to confess my sins, knowing they’ve been forgiven through Christ’s death and resurrection.  I come to you as a child, even though my years are flying by.  I have confidence in your fatherly love and grace.  I have faith that when I die I will meet you face to face and our conversations will be the best ever.

I pray this and all things in the name of your dear son, Jesus.  Amen!

 

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WHAT’S YOUR CAREER PATH?

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Over the many years of my life, I’ve had many career choices.  Some were necessities, others learning experiences, and the rest were the beginnings of what I truly wanted to do – to help others.  I think every one of us has that inborn trait, unless we’re psychotic serial killers or narcissists who think only of themselves.

Even though mankind fell into sin shortly after they were created, they were made perfectly by God.  Their sin drove a wedge between us and God, but God still loved us so much that He provided a way for us to be reconnected.  I believe there is an innate trait which separates humanity from the animals.  It’s called compassion.

My career path didn’t include as many choices as young people have today.  I could be a nurse, a secretary, a teacher or a stay at home mom.  Today the sky’s the limit for the generation of tomorrow.  Still in each of my jobs over the years, they were all designed to shape my life in the long run.

My husband and I both were destined to somehow be helpful to others in their careers.  In his business career, my husband designed advertising campaigns which promoted other people’s products and increased their sales.  As he built his own business, he was helping young copy writers and artists to achieve their goals.  When he went into fine art in his 50’s, he was making beautiful things for others to enjoy.

In the meantime, at our lowest financial point, we were being broken and redirected.  When our lives fell apart, we discovered that we could rebuild by doing the things we love and at the same time, help others to achieve greatness.  Now in our golden years, we’re able to share what we know with those who are willing to learn from us.

The greatest successes in life are not always monetary, but we still have to pay the bills.  However, God wants us to find joy in our labors.  If we can make a difference as a Walmart greeter – if we can enhance another’s life in medical research – if we can bring a smile to a child’s face by telling them they did a good job, our lives will be fulfilled as well.

Whatever you choose to do in life, the more you focus on others, the more success you attain.  The great side effect is that everyone benefits from the process.

 

 

 

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I’M ADDICTED TO COOL WHIP

Pie throwing is kind of a lost art, and although it may be a rather rudimentary, burlesque humor, there’s something inherently funny about taking a pie in the face, under the right conditions.  Johnny Carson

The “Southern Fried Funeral” has been put to bed and the revival of my acting career was the highlight for me.  I’ve never had a pie thrown in my face.  I hope I never do again, because the entire process has led me to a lifelong love affair with Cool Whip.  I always liked the stuff, but now I know that my desire for having my face so encased will go on for a long time.  So I say goodbye with a sad heart and a renewed spirit for going on another diet.  Who knows, this video should give me the motivation I need.

This week I’ll be teaching a workshop for those interested in theatre acting ages 55+.  I should have a lot of new experience to shower on them.  Even those who have never been on stage are invited to participate in this event.  So on with another adventure in the theatre.  I suppose some day, I’ll die on the stage.  It wouldn’t be such a bad way to go.

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MY PRAYER FOR TODAY

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Dear, Lord,

You know my anxious moments, you feel my frustrations, you can empathize with every single emotion, because you’ve experienced coming to us in human form through your Son, Jesus.

We start a new week with worship and praise in your house.  Keep my mind focused, even though it’s quite weary right now.  Please give me the stamina to do this last performance.  You alone, are capable of turning sadness into joy, apprehension into fulfillment.

There are so many hopes in the things of this world, but you only can set our path Aright once more.  I pray that through the chaos of daily life, you would bring order and peace.  I pray that we once more look to you for answers, rather than struggling to figure things out for ourselves.

I also thank you for all the blessings you’ve bestowed on us.  Even in times of great need, we can count on you for solutions for every difficulty in our journey.

Be with us, Lord, Jesus, We ask you to stay,

Close by us forever and loves us each,

Bless all the dear children with thy tender care,

And takes us to heaven to live with you there.

AMEN!

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ANOTHER DAY – ANOTHER PIE

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Today is our final day of performance.  “Southern Fried Funeral,” will at last be put to bed and so will the proverbial pie in the face.  Although my character, Ozella Meeks, is definitely worthy of a such an action, because she’s a real pain in the neck.

When I challenged myself to audition for another show it was partly due to ego, I guess. I wanted to know if I could still audition at my age.  Fortunately there was a character which perfectly matched my age.  The director must’ve seen some potential and cast me in the part.  For the past few weeks I’ve been getting into Ozella’s skin and have had a blast being on stage again after ten years or so.  Unfortunately, no one in the play likes Ozella, other than Ozella.

In all my years of acting, I’ve never been the recipient of a pie in the face, but this ancient body was a willing brunt of the joke for five shows.  Today we put Ozella, the Frye family and their friends to bed.  It’s hard to say goodbye to this silliness, because of the friendships forged, the acceptance within a wonderful ensemble cast, and the energy caused between actors and audience.  So what’s next?

On Wednesday I’ll begin working with adults 55+ students – those who may have participated in theatre in their younger years – are still performing – those who have no theatre experience whatsoever.  I have no idea how many will show up, what a wonderful new adventure this will be. I may be old, but this old body and mind wants to stay active and vital to my community.  With that being said, it could be easier getting a pie in the face.  However, I’ve now accomplished taking one for the team, so whatever comes next is going to be a step up

 

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JULIE’S FRIDAY FUNNY

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Welcome home, oh great green one.  You missed sorely have been.

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OPENING NIGHT

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Tonight the lights will come up on another opening – another show – another pie.  Well, at least I’m now prepared for it.  After two times rehearsing, I’ve discovered that my gut reaction to fend off said pie, doesn’t work.  Last night we found the right consistency of whipped cream, but when I put my hand out, it went off to the side and did minimal damage.  ‘To get the full effect I’m going to have to keep my hands to myself.

Opening nights are always exciting, because all that you’ve worked for over the rehearsal process is now going to come to fruition.  There’s nothing like a live audience to give the needed energy to a performance.  Things we think are funny, may not be to the audience.  Things we consider normal, might have them rolling in the aisles.  You never know what the result will be until the show is over.  There will be flubbed or stepped on lines.  There will be mistakes.  But the energy we create on stage is contagious.  It’s a back and forth excitement resulting from that interchange between performers and viewers.

Life can be like that too.  If we mope around with sad faces and nothing but a gloom and doom mentality, we aren’t doing a lot of good for the rest of the world.  Sometimes we have to put on a different mask, even when we don’t feel like it.  Those who seem most cheerful under dire circumstances are often thought of as weird in the world’s opinion.  However, a glad heart and joyful disposition is much more appealing.  Both masks of comedy and tragedy can be contagious.  Think about it.  Which would you rather be spreading around?

Every day should be like an opening night.  We can face it with anticipation and excitement, knowing that things aren’t going to be perfect, but if we allow them to, they will be energizing and fulfilling. When you approach life in that way, you’re letting God do His best through you.  Think of the alternative – if you wake up determined to fail, chances are you will.  It’s all a matter of your point of view.

 

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TECH WEEK – DAY TWO

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When you have a passion for something, you’re willing to do anything to be part of it.  Many addictions start this way.  You start out liking something – than it becomes part of you and you can’t seem to live without it.

A couple years ago, after finally taking steps to totally retire, I began the quiet life.  After a month or two of unpacking, I became a little bored.  After a year, I was going crazy.  I discovered a little up and coming theatre close to our new home.  It reminded me of what I’d left behind, but was a whole lot more organized and those in charge were about 30 years younger than me.  It was a perfect match.  I became a member of the board of directors and have been on this new adventure ever since.

Theatre, like any other art form, gets into your blood.  Some consider the arts a hobby. For me and my husband, it’s become what we do to survive.  The fact that we love doing our art, helps to make the work seem more like fun.

Last night was our second tech rehearsal, with the addition of costumes, sound and lights. All the items for the food fight were ready.  Fake casseroles (Notice I don’t call them hot dishes anymore.  The play is set in Mississippi, where a hot dish is anything with cayenne pepper in it.) and actual baked items were put in place, and the now infamous pie was prepared.   But I digress.

My character tends to get on everyone’s nerves during the course of the two acts.  I can’t blame them really.  Ozella Meeks is the chairwoman of the church Sonshine Committee.  She’s taken it upon herself to take charge of all the funeral preparations for the family.  I have to constantly remind myself that it is my character they don’t like and not me personally.  A person could get a complex doing this stuff.

The lines moved along quite well, for the most part.  I remembered most of them, and when I didn’t, I bluffed.  There weren’t any technical difficulties, except for a few minor stops here and there.  And then came the second act.  Hormones are flying like bolts of lightning.  Tempers flare.  The family is dressed in their funeral best and my character enters to stay at the house while the others go to the church.  It is my sworn duty to stay there until the mourners return and keep the burglars out.  That’s just how crazy this woman is.  She’s convinced herself that she’s indispensable.

In the final moments, a food fight ensues with the two alienated sisters. I come on to see what all the noise is about and get a pie in the face, which was intended for one of sisters.  By this time, the whipped cream had turned into a soupy mass.   It ran down my face, into my ears, and nostrils and onto my clothes. Think of being covered in a sugary, sticky, liquid.  It really didn’t matter though, because it was soooooo funny.

Tonight is the final dress rehearsal.  Tomorrow is opening night.  Woo hoo!  Theatre is my life!

 

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