Posts
These Organizing for America emails I’ve been getting lately really sort of pull you into the notion that you matter in this whole thing, don’t they? I’m just one person…just one voter…but if I call my senator or send her an email or post to her Facebook page or visit her office, I could make a difference in how she votes. What are my odds, huh? Sort of like playing the lottery…accept there’s some skill and effort involved. What skill? Well, I think to be heard you’d better have something unique to say and be able to say it with style. Then add a little luck…that what you wrote or said has enough style to catch the eye or appeal to one of her staff. That staff person might then have the power to bring it to the attention of another staff person a little closer to Her Senatorialness who can show it to her. And if what you said has true impact and sound-byte quality perhaps she might remember it…use it in a speech if it jives with how she wants to vote. If it doesn’t jive, well it won’t make it past the first staff person, let alone influence her vote.
These are the things you tell yourself when you get those emails. It’s the way you justify sweeping it into your trash folder. But sooner or later, they’ll get to you. You see, we all want to believe that our opinion matters. So if someone keeps telling us it does enough times…we might be tempted to go forth and take some sort of action—as I did when the Chief (hale to him) asked me (and a million others) to visit my Senator’s office.
I had one more road block to overcome…that being the classic “Who has the time to go all the way over to their senator’s office?” especially in Seattle, where going anywhere is a chore, I mean…how dare they ask me to take some of my valuable time and go…how far? I don’t know. Better google it…um…let’s see, a click here and a link there and…TWO WHOLE BLOCKS! So much for that road block. *grumble grumble* All right, all right all ready! I’ll go. So today, on my way to get my mail from the UPS store, I detoured to the office of Senator Patty Murray.
There’s a metal detector you’ve got to go through…yep…show some ID. Then you gotta ride the world’s fastest elevator (be sure to pop your ears) up to the 29th floor (not quite the highest room in the tallest tower but still)! And then there you are, facing two lovely receptionists…who have by this time collected quite a stack of fliers Organizing for America asked you to fill out and bring with you. With a little prompting & some friendly banter, you can get them to tell you all about the other yahoos that Organizing for America sent in. They’ll even show you the stack of fliers. Some people signed up on the website thinking that they would get a meeting with the Senator…walked right in and announced “I have an appointment.” Some expected to meet with a staff person! At this, I had to ask the young lady who she thought she was if not a staff person of Senator Murray? She smiled and said the others wanted to talk to a Senatorial Staff Person (with a capital SS&P). I told her that once again, I was pretty sure she counted for that too.
I then asked the question that all probably do at some point, “Does it matter more that I showed up at the office with this flier filled out and handed it in in-person than if I say…mailed it or called it or emailed it in?”
She smiled again and replied, “Oh yes, I’ll tell Senator Murray that every one of these fliers was brought in. She’ll enjoy reading them.”
See? I knew I was talking to the right person. Who wants to talk to some inflated ego SSP? They’d bungle the job no doubt, they have no paper skills and they’re busy writing clever speeches on their High-Powered Laptops anyhow. It’s the front desk lady you want. She’s the master of paper…and she’s the one the Senator smiles and greets every single morning she’s in town because she’s the only guaranteed one to have a desk that the Senator has to walk by to get to her own. She’s the gatekeeper for the masses. Diss on her to your own detriment—this woman is the true conduit to power for the little people. She’s really nice to you too, if you are really nice to her. I even found out that her mom’s an engineer too.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Monday, August 10, 2009
My Monday Morning Mystery
Yesterday, I lost my keys…not an unusual occurrence in my life but that’s the only part of this story that is. Sandy came over to try out puppetry with me. She and I also tried out my new rolling seats that Dad got me. I decided that they were a valuable thing behind stage. That means that I need two more. So we googled where the nearest Sears was…turns out that the Seatac Mall still has its, so we determined to go there. At this point I began the key dance. It’s set to the tune “Where are my keys?” chanted over and over again.
They are not a small set of keys. They have a huge green carabineer, my scion keys and the keyless entry remote, there are 2 retractors, one with Mom’s house keys on them and one with my UPS mail box key and all the store user cards on it, and finally, on a ring with no retractor is my luggage key and my key for my rolling file at work. The whole thing is huge and extends about a foot long—I have to remove the car keys from the carabineer to use it to drive, otherwise the long dangling keys hit my knees over and over again. So…not small.
I looked everywhere I could think of. Sandy helped too after it seemed to be taking me so long. We must have been at it for at least 20 minutes with no luck. Finally, we gave up and she drove us to the Mall. When I got home again, I was determine not to sleep without finding them. I looked for hours…I folded and cleaned…I unmade and remade the bed. I tried to put myself into a trance telling myself to retrace my steps…I lost a few hours there to sleep…heh. I one point I put on a re-enactment of the night before when I got back from the movies and arrived back home. Finally, after hours and hours of cleaning, rearranging, and searching, at about 2 am, I decided to get more sleep. As I drift off to sleep, instead of counting sheep, I repeated over and over “I will wake up remembering exactly where I last saw my keys”. This sort of thing has worked in the past and I was at my wits end.
I woke up the next morning to the chicken alarm, which I didn’t set, to find my keys in bed with me. They were under the covers next to my leg. If you read back a few paragraphs, you will find that I did at one point unmake and remake my bed. How did they get there? That’s my Monday Morning Mystery.
I have some theories…first, I walked in my sleep and continued to search, found them and took them back to bed with me. If I can do that, then I certainly can also set the chicken clock, too. I’m not someone who has been known to walk in my sleep, however. But the rest of my theories are crazier.
My second is the cats played with the keys the night before, hid them, then retrieved them last night, played with them again, then brought them to bed and tucked them under the covers with me. Yeah…oh and set the chicken clock. Are cats that amazing?
The third, and most scary is that some evil stalker stole into my room Saturday night, took my keys and copied them, then returned them last night…tucking them under the covers with me. His motives unknown, but somehow he was able to pick a locked door the night before because I do remember locking it. This nefarious person has also to be in possession of the fact that I am a deep sleeper—so they would know that tucking keys in bed with me would not wake me. They would also need to be aware that I am sleeping in a strange room of the house—not a huge leap if one considers this person should’ve been watching me for many nights. Plus they should also know how to work the stupid chicken clock, which is some what counter intuitive.
Fourth, some friend or family of mine played an evil joke on me…like that’s in character for any of them. Plus all of my family are over six hours drive from me, except of course if it was my estranged husband who did it. That would be less out of character than you think…he’s known as a practical joker. Except, who plays jokes on someone they are desperate to get free of and clearly do not love?
Fifth, call the Ghostbusters, because there’s always the supernatural angle to consider. A poltergeist is enjoying itself by taking and moving things. If I believed in supernatural phenomena, I might be intrigued by the idea. But I don’t.
Alas, we must consider that all things being equal, the simplest theory is the most likely, so the only thing that makes logical sense is that I continued to search in my sleep. But that raise more questions…why was I better able to find something while asleep? Why did I disturb nothing else? Why did I decide to take the keys back to bed with me? Lastly, why did I set the chicken clock when I knew that there was 2 other clocks already set?
What do you think?
They are not a small set of keys. They have a huge green carabineer, my scion keys and the keyless entry remote, there are 2 retractors, one with Mom’s house keys on them and one with my UPS mail box key and all the store user cards on it, and finally, on a ring with no retractor is my luggage key and my key for my rolling file at work. The whole thing is huge and extends about a foot long—I have to remove the car keys from the carabineer to use it to drive, otherwise the long dangling keys hit my knees over and over again. So…not small.
I looked everywhere I could think of. Sandy helped too after it seemed to be taking me so long. We must have been at it for at least 20 minutes with no luck. Finally, we gave up and she drove us to the Mall. When I got home again, I was determine not to sleep without finding them. I looked for hours…I folded and cleaned…I unmade and remade the bed. I tried to put myself into a trance telling myself to retrace my steps…I lost a few hours there to sleep…heh. I one point I put on a re-enactment of the night before when I got back from the movies and arrived back home. Finally, after hours and hours of cleaning, rearranging, and searching, at about 2 am, I decided to get more sleep. As I drift off to sleep, instead of counting sheep, I repeated over and over “I will wake up remembering exactly where I last saw my keys”. This sort of thing has worked in the past and I was at my wits end.
I woke up the next morning to the chicken alarm, which I didn’t set, to find my keys in bed with me. They were under the covers next to my leg. If you read back a few paragraphs, you will find that I did at one point unmake and remake my bed. How did they get there? That’s my Monday Morning Mystery.
I have some theories…first, I walked in my sleep and continued to search, found them and took them back to bed with me. If I can do that, then I certainly can also set the chicken clock, too. I’m not someone who has been known to walk in my sleep, however. But the rest of my theories are crazier.
My second is the cats played with the keys the night before, hid them, then retrieved them last night, played with them again, then brought them to bed and tucked them under the covers with me. Yeah…oh and set the chicken clock. Are cats that amazing?
The third, and most scary is that some evil stalker stole into my room Saturday night, took my keys and copied them, then returned them last night…tucking them under the covers with me. His motives unknown, but somehow he was able to pick a locked door the night before because I do remember locking it. This nefarious person has also to be in possession of the fact that I am a deep sleeper—so they would know that tucking keys in bed with me would not wake me. They would also need to be aware that I am sleeping in a strange room of the house—not a huge leap if one considers this person should’ve been watching me for many nights. Plus they should also know how to work the stupid chicken clock, which is some what counter intuitive.
Fourth, some friend or family of mine played an evil joke on me…like that’s in character for any of them. Plus all of my family are over six hours drive from me, except of course if it was my estranged husband who did it. That would be less out of character than you think…he’s known as a practical joker. Except, who plays jokes on someone they are desperate to get free of and clearly do not love?
Fifth, call the Ghostbusters, because there’s always the supernatural angle to consider. A poltergeist is enjoying itself by taking and moving things. If I believed in supernatural phenomena, I might be intrigued by the idea. But I don’t.
Alas, we must consider that all things being equal, the simplest theory is the most likely, so the only thing that makes logical sense is that I continued to search in my sleep. But that raise more questions…why was I better able to find something while asleep? Why did I disturb nothing else? Why did I decide to take the keys back to bed with me? Lastly, why did I set the chicken clock when I knew that there was 2 other clocks already set?
What do you think?
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
On Laughing
My friend Pam is a very loud laugher; she's also very easy to make laugh. When she came to see my show, we were all energized to have her out there laughing. I have now been to three theater productions with her, and she is free with her laughter at all times. This last Saturday we attended The Comedy of Errors free in the park in Bremerton. She thoroughly enjoyed it. I did notice once again that most of the audience twittered, giggled, or snickered softly, sometimes behind a hand as if they were watching TV or a Movie. Not Pam, and Pam was the only one that the actors came up and thanked for laughing. More than one said she had a great laugh and it was wonderful to hear it. It gave them instant positive feedback, you see, made them walk taller in spirit and do even better on stage.
We've all been trained to laugh quietly by movies and TV. "How?" you ask. It's because TV and Movies never stop and let you laugh anymore. The older ones used the laugh-track which folks were bothered by, now some of the better ones perform before a live audience. But most of the time the shows just proceed merrily along from one laugh line to the next with the merest pause in between. So you've got to laugh softly or you might miss something. In a movie it's even worse. They tell you "Silence is Golden". We are so programmed to laugh softly, that we get annoyed if anyone does laugh out loud.
My cousins once went to a movie with my mother Mary and afterwards told her they would never got to a funny movie with her again because she laugh so loud it embarrassed them!
When it comes to live theater though, laughing softly is the worst thing you can do. The actors get no energy from the soft laugh which can easily be considered a polite chuckle. To an actor, the polite chuckle is the sign that your show is falling flat. Theater is not TV. Those actors can see and hear you. They are trained to pause during a laugh so you don't miss anything. So don't be afraid to open the pipe and let out a guffaw, a roar, an LOL or even a ROTFLMAO. The show will be even better for it and the actors with thank you--and as we discovered, if the setting is small enough--they will literally thank you and shake your hand.
We've all been trained to laugh quietly by movies and TV. "How?" you ask. It's because TV and Movies never stop and let you laugh anymore. The older ones used the laugh-track which folks were bothered by, now some of the better ones perform before a live audience. But most of the time the shows just proceed merrily along from one laugh line to the next with the merest pause in between. So you've got to laugh softly or you might miss something. In a movie it's even worse. They tell you "Silence is Golden". We are so programmed to laugh softly, that we get annoyed if anyone does laugh out loud.
My cousins once went to a movie with my mother Mary and afterwards told her they would never got to a funny movie with her again because she laugh so loud it embarrassed them!
When it comes to live theater though, laughing softly is the worst thing you can do. The actors get no energy from the soft laugh which can easily be considered a polite chuckle. To an actor, the polite chuckle is the sign that your show is falling flat. Theater is not TV. Those actors can see and hear you. They are trained to pause during a laugh so you don't miss anything. So don't be afraid to open the pipe and let out a guffaw, a roar, an LOL or even a ROTFLMAO. The show will be even better for it and the actors with thank you--and as we discovered, if the setting is small enough--they will literally thank you and shake your hand.
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