Aspen Comedy Festival

I wrote this several years ago and it recently resurfaced during my Once Every Decade Computer Colonic. There is some updating to do, however … (1) Alex Borstein is a producer, writer and voice on “Family Guy” now … (2) after meeting Jackson Douglas I became a rabid Gilmore Girls fan, learning I was indeed smart enough and, in fact, have since been told I could be Lorelai Gilmore’s older sister — a compliment, though left-handed, that gives me a ridiculous amount of pleasure because my motto, like theirs, is “life’s short — talk fast” … (3) we took back that waitress’ tip … (4) it’s much easier these days to find liberals to talk to in Colorado … (5) I now know the guy who played Mr Wicke on the Drew Carey Show is Craig Ferguson, who entertains America in the middle of the night … (6) Ms Borstein’s “Drop Dead Gorgeous” is on Netflix. We watched it again and laughed ourselves silly. Not for the kiddies, though.

Okay, now you’re up to speed. It made me laugh and I hope you’ll enjoy it too.

Three Days as a Civilian at the Aspen Comedy Festival

I just got back from the HBO Comedy Festival in Aspen. I couldn’t have had more fun unless Mr. Steve Martin sat on my lap and told me jokes. No, I couldn’t have had more fun unless Mr. Steve Martin sat on my lap, told me jokes and tickled me with a feather. Well, okay, I couldn’t have had more fun unless Mr. Steve Martin sat on my lap, told me jokes, tickled me with a feather and paid my Aspen expenses.

Anyway, I didn’t actually see Mr. Steve Martin.

But I did have many other celebrity sightings.

Work with me here as I toggle back and forth using the singular “I” as well as the plural “we” to include my husband whenever I can’t make it all about me.

We were there at the urging — like we needed urging — of our pal Ted Hardwick, who was performing at the festival with the very funny Alex Borstein of “Mad TV” fame.

If you’re keeping count, this is Name Dropping #1. Ted doesn’t count because we knew him when he used to drink chocolate milk instead of double bourbons with Coke backs. Even though he’s been on television and at the Improv in Los Angeles AND at the Montreal Comedy Festival, he’s cool with it.

Ted does a flamboyant old-time stand-up comedian character named Teddy Towne. If I haven’t over-explained that enough, he also wears a loud plaid jacket and sunglasses. Teddy Towne opens the show for the talented Ms. Borstein.

So we met up with our pal Ted and headed back to the condo to stow our luggage and catch up with him. He showed us all the loot he got as a performer at the Festival . . . his official name badge, t-shirt, winter scarf, those cool earmuffs that wrap behind your head so as not to muss your Hollywood hair, and the coveted Comedy Arts Festival Beret. And some mints.

As we were hanging around, who comes in but the actual Alex Borstein, not just a name to be bandied about anymore, but a real live person. (Name Dropping #1A) She plopped herself down on the couch, opened a bottle of water and told us she needed somewhere to hang out until it was time to do the remote taping with Jay Leno for “The Tonight Show” to be broadcast later that night.

So we hung out and had an entertaining conversation with this most delightful, and very nice woman. If you didn’t already know, you can tell someone is nice by how they react when you pull out photos of your children. She passed the test . . . nary a whimper from her.

After Alex left, we wandered around Aspen, trying to score tickets in the Festival’s ill-conceived notion of ticket purchasing. Luckily, this became a moot point as Ted is very tall and was wearing The Badge of Comedy around his neck which proved to carry with it a certain cache. He refused to wear The Beret of Comedy or The Earmuffs of Comedy which I think could have gotten us much closer to Mr. Steve Martin. But I’m not going to open up that can of worms again.

As we walked around Aspen, Ted introduced us to Jackson Douglas who is married to Alex Borstein and has a recurring role on “The Gilmore Girls.” (Name Dropping #2) I never told him, and he was too polite to ask if we watched his show. If he had, I’d have been forced to tell him that I didn’t think I was smart enough to watch. The handful of times I’ve watched brought me to the realization that those Gilmore Girls talk too fast for me, a forty-something woman who lives on the Colorado plains.

We ended up at the beautiful St. Regis Hotel, which is one of those if-you-have-to-ask-you-can’t-afford-it kind of places. So we didn’t ask, but it didn’t make it easier to pay for our $42 round of three drinks. And here’s something interesting in a place like the St. Regis … if your cocktail waitress gives you the bum’s rush and doesn’t think you’ve tipped her well enough for walking fourteen steps to carry three drinks to you, she’ll refuse to accept it. As a woman with children of my own, I’m gonna say that her mother would be embarrassed by her behavior. But I digress.

In the bar of the St. Regis we saw Michael Moore who was at the festival to receive the Freedom of Speech Award for his body of terrific work, including his recent “Bowling for Columbine.” (Name Dropping #3)

As we were sitting, watching Michael Moore ignore us, an adorable long-haired weiner dog was nursing a brew at the table next to us. One thing I learned at the Comedy Festival was that “weiner” is much funnier than “dachshund.” Say them both out loud. You’ll see. When Mr. Weiner Dog (Name Dropping #4) started sniffing around my purse, I became a bit alarmed because, as they say in TexArkana, you just rent beer. So I got him back to his People and found out that Mr. Weiner Dog was himself a Hollywood star when they handed me a flyer advertising his latest movie. Can’t remember the name of the movie, nor Mr. Weiner Dog’s real name, but Richard Belzer’s photo was on the flyer, even though Mr. Weiner Dog’s was not. Another thing I learned at the Comedy Festival is that he should discuss this slight with his agent, his manager, his make-up person, his producer, and the cocktail waitress to rectify the situation immediately.

So it was only a matter of time before Richard Belzer (Name Dropping #5) walks up to Mr. Weiner Dog’s table and sits down. This, I suppose, makes it Mr. Richard Belzer’s table now. And in case you ever wondered . . . yes, the sunglasses stay on at night.

Since we had finished our $42 round of three drinks, and had decided for obvious reasons against another, we left the St. Regis bar. As we moved into the hallway, I saw some commotion to my right and a Beret of Comedy lumbering toward me. As it got closer I could see it belonged to John Goodman (Name Dropping #6) who is a great big happy bear of a man. There was a handful of people around him and as he walked, the crowd in the hallway parted, almost reverentially. Later, it was pointed out to me that the crowd really does have to part for Mr. Goodman, so I might have put my own little reverential spin on the situation.

Mr. Goodman and his group stopped smack dab in our way so we were forced to walk out of the hotel with them. As it was the Comedy Festival, I was expecting to get stuck in the doorway with Mr. Goodman a la The Three Stooges. Didn’t happen though. The Gods of Comedy were obviously busy elsewhere, maybe thinking up more funny names for “dachshund.” But, while we were leaving through the second sets of doors, who should hold the door open for me but Harry Shearer. (Name Dropping #7) He is the voice of so many great characters on “The Simpsons.”  I hope he wasn’t as bored as he looked. I probably should have said “weiner” to him.

Speaking of “The Simpsons,” Nancy Cartwright (the voice of Bart Simpson) was also at the Festival. It’s entirely possible that she could have been on my Celebrity Sightings List too, but I’m not entirely sure what she looks like. Maybe she was the one in the restroom who told me to eat her shorts when I crowded in front of her at the hand dryer.

We went to see Julia Sweeney’s show, “Guys and Babies, Sex and Gods.” (Name Dropping #8) What a delightful show she puts on! She has had a most interesting life and was telling about her adventures in adopting a baby from China. We laughed, we cried.

After we saw Teddy Towne and Ms. Borstein’s show (which I should tell you was the hottest ticket at the Festival despite what Kelsey Grammer’s people would have you believe), we went back to their dressing room where we were introduced to Janeane Garofalo. (Name Dropping #9) Even without her Beret of Comedy she was a hoot to hang out with. She is very well read and so interesting. Even the way she smokes is funny. She didn’t want to smoke in anyone’s face so she got right down on the floor where the full-length window opened so she could blow the smoke outside. But it was windy so it just blew back in. Okay, maybe it’s not that funny. Later, she and my husband and some others had a 3-hour conversation in the middle of the night, much of which was about politics. My husband was very excited to talk politics with someone who shares his liberal leanings. Hard to find someone simpatico on the Colorado plains.

There were some other shows we wanted to see but had to wait in line, because, apparently, Ted’s Badge of Comedy was losing power. While waiting in line, however, I saw Norm Macdonald (Name Dropping #10) and my husband saw the guy who plays Mr. Wicke on “The Drew Carey Show” (Name Dropping #10.5) And later on, Mike Myers (Name Dropping #11) bumped into my husband. Nothing really funny about poor balance, but we’ll blame it on the altitude and cut him some slack.

Which leads me back to Alex Borstein, who is funny and has impeccable balance. She also, by the way, told me I had nice skin. Uh huh, uh huh. Ms. Borstein’s show is called “Drop Dead Gorgeous in a Down-to-Earth Bombshell Sort of Way.”  Which she is. The television does not do her justice, but that isn’t the point. Her point, made in a laugh-yourself-silly-kinda-way is that she is looking for role models on television and in movies. She tells very funny stories about the descriptions of women that Hollywood producers are looking to cast in their shows. You know, like the character named “Teena” who is a physicist but also blond, sexy and willing to get into wet t-shirt contests. Or “Unnamed Woman” who is sitting at her vanity in sexy lingerie to sell motor oil.

Frankly, these are not women anyone can identify with, whether you’re a short, Jewish entertainer or a 40-something woman with nice skin and three kids. But if she’s looking for a role model, I don’t think she has to look any further than her own mirror.  Alex Borstein, Janeane Garofalo and Julia Sweeney are all amazing, smart, articulate, opinionated and very funny women with or without their Berets of Comedy. I would be honored if my daughter took on any of them as a role model.

Except for the smoking, Janeane, I’m pretty sure that’s not good for you.

How ‘bout you? Got any names to drop?

Fine W(h)ine

I’ve read news reports advising of the health benefits of drinking moderate amounts of red wine. I’ve also read reports saying that Elvis is planning a Vegas comeback and crop circles are divine roadmaps. But I won’t quibble.

I appreciate the fact scientists are watching out for America’s health. I am nothing if not the poster child for healthy drinking and eating. In fact, every single week without fail I eat a package of Twinkies to get my requirement of riboflavin and red dye #5. So quaffing a couple of glasses of red wine is not out of the question. Except for the fact I don’t really like red wine.

I have a friend named Bob, but I always call him Captain Vino because that’s the name of his business. And it’s way more fun to have a friend named Captain Vino than Bob. Sometimes I call him “Cap’n” and pretend he’s the Skipper of the SS Sugared Cereal.

But really, he is Wine Guy Extraordinaire with a vast array of wine knowledge and wine bottles. His wine cellar would impress … well, I don’t know any big deal wine guys, because I’m betting that Ernest and Julio don’t count, nor do the fine folks at Boones Farm. Trust me, though, it’s impressive.

When I am forced by circumstances to buy wine, I have a rather foolproof system, if I do say so myself. First, I pick up the phone to call someone else to buy the wine. If that doesn’t work, I drive to the liquor store and stand like a dunce in the middle of a giant smorgasbord of bottles, decanters, flasks and jugs. I know what you’re thinking, but standing like a dunce does not embarrass me. I see other patrons do the same thing, and I’m proud to say I haven’t yet staggered around and knocked over a display of something expensive and highly flammable. There are worse things than standing like a dunce.

Next I tell the clerk I’m looking for something with a nice bouquet, not too woody, a little irrepressible but not insincere. After showing me several lovely bottles, all with cumbersome corks and equally cumbersome price tags, I make my way to the cooler and grab a box of wine by its plastic handle, shouting, “AHA! Here’s the one . . . elixir of the gods!”

If Captain Vino knew I behaved this way, and if he were dead, he’d roll over in his grave. As it is, he will definitely roll his eyes in the manner we reserve for clueless dogs who crash into the sliding glass door because they can’t understand the difference between open and closed. Quite possibly the Captain will wonder how often I crash into the sliding glass door. Then he’ll sigh.

All is not lost, however, because there are things I adore about wine. For instance, I love the little charm bracelets that decorate wine glasses at parties. I understand they are to distinguish which glass belongs to which person. I’d love a reason to use them during parties at my house. Usually we rely on the time-tested method of giving each guest a different cartoon character on their jelly jar. Since there are no stems on jelly jars, if we used charms, we’d have to plop them right in the glass, so that might not be a great idea. I do have a couple of sets of wine charms, but we’d have to dig them out of the Christmas decorations because I hung them on the tree last year. They sparkled.

Another thing I love about wine is my fabulous wine rack. It’s filled with, I’m told, fabulous wine. More importantly, it looks great in the corner of my living room. Now if only I could fit a couple of boxes on it.

Are you a wine drinker? Do you have a favorite kind? Is white wine as healthy for you as red?

Who Knew Cows Were Prissy?

Now I can say I’ve been to the National Western Stock Show.

There were lots of cows — brown cows, black cows, white cows, beautiful cows — getting their legs, necks and butts shampooed and shaved. Who knew they were so high maintenance? It always seemed to me they just stood around chewing. I guess they want to look nice for the other cows standing around chewing.

All this guy wanted was a Kleenex.

Raise your hand if you knew that’s what cow’s feet and legs looked like.

I went to the auction barn where they gave awards and paraded the soon-to-be-auctioned animals.

That was interesting. What makes a quality cow? Who knows? But the white one won … or lost, depending on your point of view.

Unfortunately, I was quite disappointed in several different ways.

First, six dollar beer? Ouch.

Second, no pigs, sheep or yaks anywhere to be found. Plenty of bacon, wool and yak burgers, however, which, now that I think about it, clears that up.

Third, we were waiting to see the preview Wild West Show, but a volunteer came out to announce that they “forgot their horses.” I kid you not. My son said that’s like scheduling a football game but not bringing the team. (Team … horses? Oh my, I’m funny.)

This turned into one of those lemons-into-lemonade kinda moments, though, because we were planning to leave after the Wild West Show, which meant I’d miss the Stick Horse Rodeo. But I must have lived a righteous life because guess what they replaced the Wild West Show with? Not the six dollar beers like my husband wanted, but the Stick Horse Rodeo! YAY!

Nothing cuter than three-year-olds racing around on stick horses. One kid became so intimidated by the cheering crowd he slid out of the first turn right under a table. I think he’s still there.

Of course, no trip to the National Western Stock Show is complete without seeing the birth of a fully realized longhorn steer.

Not as messy as you’d think.

Makes you want to go, doesn’t it?

Things I’ve Never Done

I’ve been hearing a lot about New Year’s Resolutions lately. In fact, I even wrote some of my own.

But recently I was reading the little note from the editor at the beginning of a magazine, and she wrote that she makes a list every January of “Things I’ve Never Done.”

So guess what I did?

Here’s my list of Things I’ve Never Done:

• Poked my eye out with a hanger
• Cleared a HazMat site
• Wore a mink bikini
• Lifted a Volkswagen over my head
• Held my breath till my lungs exploded

But as I re-read my list, it occurred to me that the editor I stole this idea from probably WANTS to do the stuff on her list.

So here’s my revised list of Things I’ve Never Done That I’d LIKE To Do:

• Go an entire day without saying, “Just DO it, okay?? Geez!”
• Eat a block of cheese without one pang of guilt
• Cheerfully clean my house
• Get my house cleaned by cheerful people
• Write a manuscript that doesn’t need revising
• Be a synesthetic tuba player

What’s on your list?

Letterman Looks Like #117

I read an interview in New Scientist with Daniel Tammet, a 29-year-old British man. He’s synesthetic, mildly autistic, speaks 11 languages (he learned Icelandic in a week!) and can remember pi out beyond 22,000 digits.

Being mathfully challenged myself, I was fascinated by the way he describes his relationship with numbers. It’s very intuitive to him, much like language is intuitive to most of the rest of us. He explains that we don’t see one word — we see a web of connected words. Like to understand the word ‘giraffe,’ we need to understand its relationship to ‘neck’ or ‘tall’ or ‘animal.’ And that’s how he sees interconnections and patterns with numbers.

He talks about his synesthesia in a way I love. He says all of his numbers have a texture, which immediately allows him to group, for instance, all the lumpy numbers together into their webs and patterns.

He says, “For me, the ideal lumpy number is 37. It’s like porridge. So 111, a very pretty number, which is 3 times 37, is lumpy but it is also round. It takes on the properties of both 37 and 3, which is round. It’s an intuitive and visual way of doing maths and thinking about numbers.”

Isn’t that great?

He attributes his ability to learn languages to his synesthesia too, in the same sort of way — seeing the interconnectedness of words.

In 2005, he talked to David Letterman about his recitation for charity of the 22,000+ digits of pi and his synesthesia. He tells Dave he looks like the number 117 — “handsome, tall, lanky, and a little bit wobbly.”

He’s written a couple of books, too. The newest is “Embracing the Wide Sky – A Tour Across the Horizons of the Human Mind” and a memoir, “Born on a Blue Day,” both available on Amazon. (Yay! Just in time for my birthday!)

Read the rest of the New Scientist interview here.

Are any of your numbers lumpy?

Sharon Draper Interview

Sharon Draper amazes me. She’s got too much cred for her own good and quite possibly is hogging it all! She’s an award-winning educator and writer and all-round good egg. Plus she’s funny and hip. And must have the energy of a hummingbird. She probably makes Red Bull feel sluggish. Aside from her fabulous books, like FORGED BY FIRE, you know what made me like her the most?

This picture she sent of one of her, um, fans.

Too funny. Here’s some more of our conversation.

• How did you get started writing?

A smart-alec student who challenged me.  “Why don’t YOU write something?” he growled at me.  He gave me an application for a national writing contest.  I entered.  I actually won first place.   I should find that kid and thank him.

• Which is harder for you … writing a first draft of a novel or cooking Thanksgiving dinner?

Cooking.  Although I love to cook, I’m no gourmet.  Writing is easy.  Words flow.

• Which of your characters is most like you?

Most of my books have a strong teacher, or strong mother-figures who nurture various characters through their ordeals.  I suppose those women represent me and how I feel about teenagers.  I actually like them, and I want them to succeed.

• Have you based a character on someone who would be horrified to know it’s them?

No, but I did have a lady once tell me, with a very insulted tone, “I didn’t like how you portrayed me in your book!  I told her I didn’t like her well enough to put her in a book.  Well, I wanted to say that.  I just assured her that any resemblance to herself was purely coincidental.  And it was.

• What is the third best salad dressing?

I like them all except for Blue Cheese.  Yuck!  Double Yuck!

• So sorry, my dear, but this is not an appropriate answer. You were a teacher … didn’t you admonish your kids to answer the question they were asked?! Sheesh. Third. Best. Salad. Dressing.

Picky. Picky. Picky. Raspberry Vinaigrette

• Which is your favorite part of the writing process? Least favorite?

The best part is being “in the groove” when the words flow, and my fingers dance, and thoughts bounce around like lightning flashes.  It’s like magic.  The least favorite is line edits.  Fixing tiny details.  Who cares that her dress was blue on page 75 and green on page 76?  Maybe she changed clothes!  Copy editors are unique and skilled individuals.  They miss nothing.

• Who is your favorite author?

I don’t have one.  I read too many books. I read three hundred books a year—mostly on airplanes and waiting in airports.  Mystery novels.  Biographies.  Historical fiction.  Poetry.  Each one shapes me in some way.  I learn from all I read and I that I do.  I like authors who understand the “groove.”  Authors who make the magic with words.  I won’t waste time on a poorly-written book.  I’ll leave it on an airplane.  Good books I treasure.

• What do you do for fun?

I write!  Honest.  It makes me happy. I also like hanging with my grandkids.  They keep me young.

• What is your writing process like?

On writing days, that’s what I do all day long–I write.  I sit at a computer and type until the words start sounding funny to me.  That means my brain is turning to mush.  Then I stop and rest until the next day. A typical writing day starts early in the morning–maybe around five or six.  I must have absolute silence–no music, no telephone, not even a fan can be blowing.  Then I find my “zone” and enter it.  It’s a magic flow of thoughts and words.  Sometimes the thoughts come faster than I can type them.  It’s exciting, exhilarating, and wonderful.  And it is truly a blessing.   The characters come and they create themselves.  They become like real people to me–living, breathing young people who share the same fears and frustrations that all teenagers experience.

I start with an idea, or a problem or a conflict, or even a situation that might be pertinent to the lives of young people, then the characters grow from that point.  I try to make strong characters that change and develop and learn from their mistakes.  I try to make characters so real that young people believe they are real people, and many do.

I can write about a chapter a day if I have no interruptions, but usually there are interruptions—the dog has to go out, I have to go the post office, etc.  When I come back to it, I revise it or expand it and change it, each time making it better and stronger. When I finish the whole book, usually in two to three months, I go back and edit it.  I fix, change, and rearrange.  Then I do it again.  Then one more time.  That may take several more months.  Then I send it in to my editor who fixes and changes it even more.  It may go through three or four or even five edits with her.  Then, it goes through a final edit with the copy editor.  That may take another six to eight months.  Writing is easy.  Editing is very tedious and painful.  When a book is finally done, it may have taken more than a year to get it just right, and even then, I’m never really satisfied with it.   I still wish I had perfected it just a little more.

• Were you in marching band?

I used to love to watch the band at football games.  They were more fun than the football players.

• What books are on your To Be Read pile right now?

A Mercy by Toni Morrison

Testimony by Anita Shreve

Someone Knows my Name  by Lawrence Hill

• Chocolate or vanilla?

Vanilla, of course!

• What is your favorite line from a book?

“Women forget all those things they don’t want to remember, and remember everything they don’t want to forget.  The dream is the truth.” From Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston.

• What is the first book you remember reading?

I could read long before I started school.   I was the little girl who checked out ten books every week from our local library.  I was the child who read late at night with a flashlight. I can’t remember NOT reading, or being read to.  It’s the rhythms and the cadences of the words that stay with me.

• Which five people — living or dead — would you like to go to dinner with and why?

1. Barack Obama.  Because he is THE MAN.

2. Denzel Washington.  Because I respect his work and I think he’d like my books and make a movie of one of them. [Becky's note ... He'd be crazy not to!]

3. Zora Neale Hurston.  What a woman!

4. My grandmother Rose.  So I could ask her all those things I never did.

5. My grandmother Estelle.  So I could ask her all those things I never did.

• What is the most interesting thing about your childhood?

I used to live next door to a nunnery and I was afraid of the nuns.  They wore the long black habits, and I thought they had no feet.  They floated.  Honest.

• What is the best question you’ve ever been asked?

Where do you find your joy?  Asked by an eleven year old.  Still working on the answer to that one.

• What is your Six Word Memoir?

Wife.  Mom.  Teacher.  Writer.  Grammy.  Cool!

• Mountain or beach?

Beach, of course!

• Tell us about any new books or projects you have coming up.

–Sassy!  Little Sister is Not my Name.  A book for kids in grades 3-4-5.  From Scholastic.  March 2009.

–Just Another Hero.  Book Three in the Jericho Trilogy.  For grades 7-12.  From Simon and Schuster.  June 2009.

–Sassy 2—The Birthday Storm.  Sequel to Sassy 1. From Scholastic.  September 2009.

Sharon told me she envied people who have time to blog. I told her I’d trade my blog for her 20+ books any day. I envy writers who DON’T have time to blog! But she recently jumped on the bloggy bandwagon so go visit and say hi in case she’s feeling lonely and unloved in the blogosphere.

And you can find her at MySpace, well HerSpace, I guess …. myspace.com/sharondraper

How much do you love Sharon Draper now?!

First Page Review-Forged By Fire

First Page Review — FORGED BY FIRE by Sharon Draper

If you don’t sit your stinkin’ useless butt back down in that shopping cart, I swear I’ll bust your greasy face in!” she screamed at the three-year-old in front of her. He studied her face, decided she was serious, and put his leg back inside the cart. He was standing near the front end of the cart, amidst an assorted pile of cigarette boxes, egg cartons, and pop bottles. He didn’t want to sit down anyway because of the soft, uncomfortable load in his pants, which had been there all afternoon and which felt cold and squishy when he moved too much. He rarely had accidents like that, but when he did, Mama sometimes made him keep it in his pants all day to “teach him a lesson.”

Gerald was only three, but he had learned many such lessons. He’d never seen Sesame Street, never heard of Riverfront Stadium — he didn’t even know he lived in Cincinnati. But he knew the important things — like never mess with Mama when she was in bed-Mama got really mad when you woke her up, especially if she had somebody in bed with her. And never touch the hot thing Mama used to light her cigarettes, even if the mysterious orange-and-blue fire that comes out of it liked to tease you and dance for only a moment before running away.

Two paragraphs and don’t you already love Gerald and want to know his story and how ‘the hot thing’ is going to play into the story? How do writers DO that?? More importantly, how do I do that?!

Favorite Lines:

• Sometimes the [grocery] cart would be a tank, as he passed cautiously through rows of armed cling peaches and silent sentinels that looked like boxes of Frosted Flakes.

• She was dressed in bright red from the top of her elaborate turban to the tips of her polished fingernails, and an air of regal self-assurance seemed to travel with her.

• His gifts were never frivolous or the result of Saturday morning cartoon advertising, but thoughtful and delightful. Last year, when he was eight, in addition to two books (he loved to read), a new winter coat, and a used but still bright and shiny blue sled, he got a flashlight, two sets of batteries, and permission to explore the basement and the attic (which had previously been off-limits).

What did you think of FORGED BY FIRE? (Haven’t read it yet? Go ahead. We’ll wait.)

Come back tomorrow and read my interview with Sharon Draper.

Sharon M. Draper is a professional educator as well as an accomplished writer. She has been honored as the National Teacher of the Year, is a five-time winner of the Coretta Scott King Literary Award, and is a New York Times bestselling author. She’s received a ton of awards for teaching and for writing, and has been honored at the White House six times.

She started writing because of a challenge from one of her students. She entered and won first prize in a literary contest — $5000 and the publication of her short story, “One Small Torch.” She has published numerous poems, articles, and short stories in a variety of literary journals.

Here are just a few of her books.

Happy Inauguration Day!

Happy Inauguration Day!

This is a very exciting time to be an American. I feel a bit as if the sun is coming out again after a long, dark storm. With baseball-size hail. And lengthy power outages.

I wanted to share a story I came across recently. It illustrates one of the reasons I love Barack Obama.

A class of second-graders in Connecticut had a Flat Stanley Writing Project. For those of you who haven’t met Flat Stanley, he’s squashed flat by a falling bulletin board. You’d think this would be a disadvantage, but it’s not. For instance, his parents can put him in a large envelope and mail him for a visit to his friends in California.

For the project, these Connecticut students made paper Flat Stanleys and began a journal with him for a few days. Then Flat Stanley and the journal were sent to someone famous to continue his journey, with the request that they add a bit to the journal, then send everything back to the original sender. Students plot his travels on maps and share the contents of the journal.

Letters were sent to Yankee third basemen Alex Rodriguez, Nancy Pelosi, Mark Spitz and John McCain. Did they write back? Nope, not a word.

Three boys wrote letters to Barack Obama who was the only person to respond.

(Admit it … that photo made you grin like an idiot, didn’t it? How cute are THEY?!)

Loretta Waldman of The Hartford Courant reports:

Obama’s three-page letter to Aron described Flat Stanley’s visit with him and his staff in Washington, D.C. It chronicled their busy day together, which included coffee with constituents, a Senate committee meeting and a trip to the gym. It also had historical facts about the U.S. Capitol, details of Obama’s job and a confession from Obama.

“Sometimes I get a little nervous before talking in front of a crowd, but Flat Stanley helped me practice the speech,” Obama wrote. “He made me recite it in front of him and then even gave me some advice so the speech would go smoothly. Flat Stanley is really a great coach.”

Are you proud that’s the kind of guy we have as President?

Name That Sax

I’ve recently discovered Google Alerts. All I did was spend three minutes teaching it my name, the name of my blog, and the phrases ‘marching band’ and ‘synesthesia’ and — poof — every day, like magic, something new and wonderful pops into my email inbox.

First, let me just say how ridiculously thrilling it is to read other blogs where people refer to you in complimentary ways. Ridiculously. Thrilling.

Second, it’s also thrilling when I know I can provide help to some other blogger.

Case in point …I was alerted to a blog written by an 18-year-old former marching band student. He attended the Penang Free School which my extraordinarily mad detective skillz, ie, Wikipedia,  found to be located in Malaysia.  It’s been in continuous operation since 1816 and many famous people went there. Here are three that jumped out at me:
• Tunku Abdul Rahman, First Prime Minister and founding father of Malaysia.
• Tun Dr. Lim Chong Eu, second Chief Minister of Penang.
• Dato’ Eddy Choong, former All-England Badminton champion.

This young man’s blog linked to the PFS band blog which has a ton of fun photos.

It also has a YouTube video of one of their competitions that I just loved so I’m posting it here for your viewing pleasure. Watch for fantastic, crowd-pleasing drum major stick tosses. And notice … no percussion pit.

It’s nice to know “woohoo” means exactly the same thing on every continent. (Well, maybe not Antarctica.) It kinda makes me feel like I speak a second language.

And the band experience translates as well. This is what he says:

In the band, you push yourself worse than military cadets. Ironically, you love doing it! Pushing yourself further when you are dead tired, telling yourself to force that note out despite your breathlessness. You do push because that very passion in you pumps you further. You know that you will enjoy the ecstasy of the note you play although there is no room for thought in your mind for the suffocation is oppressing your brain to dead stop. Still, the satisfaction of a good show, especially in a competition will not only make you feel good, but it is very, very possible to reduce you to tears once you hear the audience cheer endlessly for your band. Tears not of joy, nor of pain. But tears of being extremely proud of being a member of the PFS Band. That feeling, my friends, cannot be matched even by flooding your system with endorphin!

But here’s the cry for help. This young man is asking for help in naming his saxophone. So, everybody …. Hop over there and give him some ideas.

“Becky” would be a lovely name for a saxophone, don’t you think?

Reunion Chatter

Recently we discussed whether I should attend my 30th high school reunion.

I think I’ve decided to go.

But that creates another problem. What does one say to people one hasn’t seen in 30 years?

Do I mention how nicely their acne cleared up?

Do I ask who finally talked them out of their unfortunate hairstyle?

Do I remind them of the hilarious story of when they beat me up in the girl’s restroom?

How many times will I be forced to say, “No, that wasn’t me, but I did get suspended for it.”

Do I say, “So, what have you been doing for the last 30 years?” and then set the timer for three minutes? After all, we had a big class … I wouldn’t want to leave anyone out.

What about the guys I had a crush on? Do I calmly tell them so, or do I fling myself across the room, arms and legs holding them vice-like, sobbing, “Finally!! I’ve waited all these years!! Will you PLEASE sit with me at Fargo’s Pizza?! Upstairs?! Where all the cool kids sit?!”

I’m really at a loss. What is proper reunion behavior?

Oh snap! I just had a brainstorm! I’ll wear somebody else’s nametag! Duh.

What would you say to someone you haven’t seen in 30 years?