27 Saturday Aug 2016
Posted in Tributes and Tiaras
Tags
Beauty, Blessings, celebrities, Good Will, Happiness, Love, Olympic Love, Peace, Sportsmanship, Team USA, Track & Field, Tributes, USA
Here comes the turnip truck!
Well, there was this …
Until next time…
I’m turning off the turnip truck.
T
18 Monday Feb 2013
Posted in Tributes and Tiaras
Tags
Here comes the turnip truck!
Hello, Followers, I’ve missed you; but, I am back now and today I am going to tell you a story about a not-so-young man named David the Great … and a beautiful and mighty princess warrior named Princess Toni.
In this story David the Great will be played by one of the best actor I know: the not-so-young David the Edge (40 years old):
The above photo shows the not-so-young David the Edge (40 years old) with and without facial and body hair. I asked him to shave for this story. He said OK.
And, the beautiful and mighty Princess Toni will be played by the real-life Princess Toni (30 years old):
She is this pretty all the time.
DAVID THE GREAT …
AND THE BEAUTIFUL AND MIGHTY PRINCESS WARRIOR
Chapter 1
Once upon a very long time ago, there was a not-so-young man named David the Great who lived in Rome, Italy with other people.
David the Great was not so young, a little bit smart and very kind. So said almost all who knew him.
He was especially kind to fair maidens in distress.
Chapter 2
One day, a very long time ago, the not-so-young David the Great gathered with some friends on and around a random bench in the middle of Rome.
As his comrades sat around enjoying the lovely weather, the not-so-young David the Great began to contemplate some of life’s biggest questions:
Where can I have my nails nicely manicured?
What day is it?
Is an owl really all that smart?
He asked another not-so-young man named Ralph what he thought the answers to these questions were.
Ralph did not know.
Chapter 3
The next day a mean and ugly troll entered the city and tried to harm the not-so-young David the Great and the not-so-young David the Great was scared.
So were all the male peons and the women-folk.
Alas, the not-so-young David the Great and his comrades had nothing to fear, for hiding among the frightened women-folk was a beautiful and mighty princess warrior named Princess Toni.
Doesn’t she have the prettiest shoes?
The beautiful and mighty Princess Toni saved the weak men and the scared women-folk and drove off the ugly troll forever.
The not-so-young David the Great was very grateful to Princess Toni and swore to be her chambermaid forever.
The not-so-young David the Great’s comrades were also very grateful.
Together they danced for joy in the streets.
And they all lived happily ever after.
Please note that this story is based on the not-so-young David the Edge’s real life.
Until next time…
I’m turning off the turnip truck.
T
26 Sunday Aug 2012
Posted in Tributes and Tiaras
Tags
Attitude, Bad Sport, celebrities, Chinese Badminton Team, entertainment, Gabby Douglas, Galen Rupp, Good Sport, James Kirani, McKayla Maroney, Mo Farah, Nadzeya Ostapchuk, Olympics 2012, Oscar Pistorius, Russian Women Gymnasts, Sam Mikulak
Here comes the turnip truck!
Before the Olympics began I was hoping to write an inspiring article about all the wonderfulness I watched on TV. By the closing ceremonies I was slightly disenchanted with enough of the athletes and their pitiful attitudes that I scrapped my original idea. Instead I would just like to make the following observations:
GOOD ATTITUDE
GOOD ATTITUDE
GOOD ATTITUDES
GOOD ATTITUDES
BAD ATTITUDE
BAD ATTITUDE
BAD ATTITUDES
BAD ATTITUDES
Until next time…
I’m turning off the turnip truck.
T
13 Monday Aug 2012
Posted in Tributes and Tiaras
Tags
Beauty and the Beast, Birthdays, Boston Bruins, Boston Red Sox, Broadway, Confirmation, Fenway Park, Food, Happy Birthday, Laughter, Rain Delay, sports, The Tomb, The Upper Crust Pizzeria, transportation, travel, turnip, turnip truck, wicked
Here comes the turnip truck!
So, as I’ve mentioned, Mikayla is one of my many godchildren (I have 3) – what I have not mentioned is that I try always to treat my godchildren like gold when I see them for birthdays and holidays and in general throughout the year.
Mikayla recently celebrated her 16th birthday (October 4, 2011) and so I thought I should get her a really fun gift. After hemming and hawing I decided to buy Mikayla a beautiful silver ring.
But then things changed.
I got busy and I kept forgetting to order the ring and then FALL faded into winter which faded into SPRING.
Mikayla, being Catholic, was confirmed in the spring (April 14, 2012) and seeing that I hadn’t even ordered the ring by that point, I thought it would make a nicer confirmation gift. This put me back at square one in the birthday gift department. And I was running out of time! I mean her 17th birthday was fast approaching and I still hadn’t made good on the 16th birthday gift yet!
What to do?
That is when I had a eureka moment!
I will do what I almost always do and take her someplace cool.
Over the years Jim and I have taken Mikayla on many adventures including:
Plays in New York:
Wicked
Beauty and the Beast
An Egyptian exhibit called The Tomb:
A tour of Fenway Park:
A Bruins game:
A Cirque du Soleil show called Dralion:
This time I decided to take Mikayla to a Red Sox game!
Yippie!
Jim and I decided to buy the extra cheap seats in the bleachers ($20 per ticket) so that Mikayla could bring a friend. Mikayla brought Anne.
Before I go on, I need to stop and insert a picture of Anne’s older sister Rita. Rita will have a cow if Anne is featured on the Turnip Truck before her, as she has been a faithful subscriber for eons and has yet to even get a mention. That said, this is Rita:
Note: this is not really the Rita I am talking about, but it is the picture that kept popping up when I tried to Google her. Sorry, Rita, but at least you got a mention. You can blame Scary Turnip (see the Explained page) and your sister for not forwarding me a picture of you as I asked them to do 100 times.
Back to the story of:
Mikayla’s Happy Birthday Adventure.
So, Mikayla brought Anne…
Jim and I bought the tickets for the Red Sox game the week before we intended to go so that we I could have a good idea of what the weather would be like. You can never be too careful when your view of the game is from the cheap seats.
Jim decided that Tuesday, July 31st would be the perfect night to go, but I was apprehensive because the weather app on my stupid iPhone had a picture of a cloud and lightning bolts.
Jim said it would be fine.
He was wrong.
Again.
The evening started off lovely enough. On our way to the ballpark, we stopped and had a slice of pizza at The Upper Crust Pizzeria because Jim and Anne were hungry.
Note: Each of us had a slice of our own. We didn’t share one slice. That would be weird because we barely know Anne.
We then moved on to Fenway Park. When we got there it was just like a carnival outside.
There were souvenir shops.
There were boys hawking programs for exorbitant amounts of money.
There were bands.
There were clowns.
There were rides.
There was food.
Jim couldn’t decide what to eat first!
We finally made it to our seats and we were so happy because it was a warm night and it looked like the rain was going to hold off.
Alas, we should have known it was too good to be true for within a matter of minutes the rain came.
And, oh how it rained!!!
By the end of the 4th inning the bleachers were really clearing out!
We stayed.
We got soaked.
The Sox ended up calling a rain delay in the 6th inning and eventually they just called the game.
The Red Sox won.
We ran back to our car, which Jim parked about 50+ blocks away so he could park for free.
We stopped under every awning and tree we came to so that we could wring ourselves out.
Before we left the house I told the girls to bring a raincoat.
Anne didn’t listen. She brought a skimpy little sweatshirt instead.
Silly girl.
When we finally made it to the car, we tumbled into it laughing hysterically.
This night could have turned into a horrible situation fraught with teenage angst, but it didn’t. Except for the occasional apology from me (I felt horrible that Mikayla’s Happy Birthday Adventure was turning out to be anything but perfect.), there was not a moan or groan to be heard from anyone. The girls took it all in stride and just kept smiling through the unrelenting downpour. Nobody complained about frizzy hair or ruined make-up – not even Jim! We just kept laughing at the craziness of the evening.
I really need to give props to Mikayla (and her little friend too). Even though she is getting older she doesn’t mind hanging out with the older folks me. She never seems embarrassed to be seen with us me.
This is Mikayla and me at her Confirmation:
If Mikayla is embarrassed by our my presence, one would never know it; which makes her a good actor, which then makes me a brilliant director since I taught her everything she knows about the craft. Either way it’s pretty cool and I am grateful.
I hope when Jack is her age he still loves hanging out with me too.
I am thinking about bringing Mikayla to the zoo for her 17th birthday.
I hope she loves it.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MIKAYLA!
Until next time…
I’m turning off the turnip truck.
T
29 Sunday Jan 2012
Posted in Tributes and Tiaras
Tags
accurate portrayal, beetle bug, birthday, birthday sign, dr frankenstein, jeckyll hyde, long long time, turnip, turnip truck, turnips
Here comes the turnip truck!
That’s right, my dear Followers, today is my birthday!
In the above photograph I am at a birthday party, but not my own. It was Kerry B’s birthday party and the picture was taken a long, long time ago and it was not January, but September. So, not quite an accurate portrayal of the girl I am today, but who cares? I decided to use this picture because I looked better then than I do today and since it’s my birthday I can make all the wishes I want and one of my wishes is to look younger.
Did you know Oprah and I share the same birthday? That’s right! She was born on January 29th too – only she is a little older than I am.
I wonder what she did to celebrate. Did she buy herself a new Beetle Bug in which to tool around one of her many estates? Did she sleep in? Did she have a lemon flavored popsicle? Ope, if you are reading this little blog of mine, feel free to comment and let us know how you spent your day.
And here is something super crazy that happened to me this year – my Bestest NC: Kerry B and my Bestest MA: Margaret Jeckyll-Hyde each gave me a card with similar pictures on the front.
Kerry B's Birthday Card to Me
Margaret Jeckyll-Hyde's Birthday Card to Me
The minds of my bestestes are becoming psychically linked! This is so exciting! I feel like I had something to do with this phenomenon. I’m a regular Dr. Frankenstein!
I got an awesome birthday sign from Jack.
I also got some really wonderful gifts and cards and emails and texts and phone calls and such from my parents and in-laws and family and friends. However, of all the gifts I got this year, my favorite is the painting Jim did of me and Jack!
Jack B and Ant T
Isn’t it awesome!
There were many exciting and crazy things happening in the world the year I was born. Here is a list of a few of them (according to the birthday card my mom gave me):
Can you guess what year I was born?
I’ll give you a hint: It was in the 1900s.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
While you think about it I’m going to finish my next blog article … Charo here I come!
Until next time…
I’m turning off the turnip truck.
T
16 Wednesday Nov 2011
Posted in Tributes and Tiaras
Here comes the turnip truck!
Hi Oprah. Hi Tina. Hi Ellen.
There seems to be a few followers who are slightly bored and/or annoyed with the constant stream of Margaret articles (David E and Nancy B). Whether they are really bored or annoyed or just jealous, I’m not sure.
In any case, I’m a real-life writer now and we real-life writers write about what we know. I know Margaret. Now, should anyone else feel a bit of Margaret-overload, I ask you to hang in there because things are about to get twisted.
This blog is actually not about Margaret’s wonderfulness, but about how Margaret almost killed an innocent. In this article some of her deep, dark secrets are exposed. This is the point in Margaret’s living eulogy where things take a turn toward the unexpected and you realize she ain’t as great as I’ve made her out to be. Margaret has a dark side. It’s true. She is a regular Dr. Jeckle and Ms. Hyde.
These are the real Margarets
This blog also features the first of a new series of articles on my Bestest, NC, Kerry B.
Kerry B and Me
Happy reading!
MORE ABOUT MARGARET
(Don’t worry David E… the end is in sight.)
YOU WONDERFUL YOU
My Friend Margaret
A Living Eulogy
Part V of VI
Part V
Margaret always tries to be kind and loving like Dr. Jeckle, but sometimes her inner Hyde takes control and makes her do bad things. She kept it hidden so well, until one night her secret was exposed.
This is Margaret Hyde
It all began the night Margaret ran over a poor and innocent bag lady.
Margaret's Weapon of Choice
One night, when Margaret was speeding to a play rehearsal, she hit a bag lady (Margaret is an actress in her spare time and that is why she was driving to play rehearsal). If Margaret were standing over me now and reading this she would want me to tell you that she did stop to make sure the lady was OK, but the lady just screamed and screamed at her like a crazy. Margaret would also want me to tell you that she (Margaret) did call the police and tell them of the homicidal incident. When the police arrived on the scene to investigate they could not find the hide or the hair of that crazy bag lady – they deducted that she fled on foot never to be seen again.
Margaret says that, in the end, “It was that lady’s own fault for walking on the sidewalk. What was she thinking anyway?”
I responded to this accusation saying, “I don’t know what she was thinking, Margaret. I don’t know.”
I thought about asking Margaret why the heck she was driving on the sidewalk to begin with, but I didn’t because she seemed so shaken up by the situation.
By the way, have I mentioned before that Margaret is a wicked good actress? She is.
This is Margaret Jeckle seconds before she turns into Margaret Hyde.
When I showed a picture of Margaret to my little nephew Jack he freaked out. They say children can sense when something or someone is pure evil.
Jack's reaction upon seeing a picture of Margaret Hyde
Enough about Margaret, I now need to tribute my Bestest, NC, Kerry B.
This is Kerry B
Kerry B and me have been through a lot together since secretly becoming friends in the late 1990s. As I continue to blog, I will chronicle these stories in a series I call:
YOU WONDERFUL YOU
Me and My Friend Kerry B
An Outrageous Tale of Misadventure and Fortune
Before I chronicle our stories of misadventure and fortune, I need to tell you a bit more about Kerry B. You’ve already learned (because I’m sure you’ve all read all the previous blogs and if you didn’t read ALL the previous blogs what is your problem?) that she loves rodeos (and rodeo clowns), country line-dancing, and wrestling. What you don’t know is Kerry B is fashion-challenged. It’s true. In fact, her fashion faux pas having gotten her into quite a few pickles in the past.
Kerry B and a Pickle
I discovered that Kerry B was fashionably challenged early on in our friendship. The two of us were invited to a swinging house party one summer night late in August. When I arrived at Kerry B’s apartment to pick her up and she hopped in my car I could tell something was off, but I didn’t want to stare because staring is rude. God made me kinder than that.
Instead, I decided to nonchalantly observe her later in the night.
Nonchalantly observing Kerry B proved easy enough, as she made a spectacle of herself dancing that night. She has the weirdest dance moves. And please don’t think that Kerry B was a dancing drunk because she was not. Kerry B used to be a teetotaler.
As this dancing teetotaler whirled around the living room of this tiny house, I got a look at her feet and I was horrified! Kerry B was wearing sandals … with socks!
I scrambled to get my camera and take a picture. I figured she must not have a mirror in her apartment and could not see how ridiculous she looked. Unfortunately, Kerry B was moving so quickly I could not get a great picture of her fashion faux pas (well I couldn’t get a great picture of the socks and sandals – the 1980s jeans are another story and I’m not going there with her because, as you will see, I’ve had a hard enough time breaking the footwear habits). Here is what I did get:
So, I developed the pictures from that night and showed her how ugly her footwear was and assumed she would be as horrified as I.
You know what they say about assuming things.
She was not horrified in the least! Apparently, she wore (and wears) socks with her sandals because she didn’t (and doesn’t) want her feet to get cold. I know you must be wondering why she doesn’t just wear sneakers with the socks, but she said she likes the ventilation the sandals give. To each his own, I guess, and all that sort of thing.
Over the years Kerry B has sported this look over and over again, but at least her taste in sandals has consistently improved (and I used that term loosely). Look below to see Kerry B’s footwear style progression.
Kerry B even wore socks and sandals the day she married Larry S, but she smartly did not let the cameras catch her secret obsession with hideous footwear. She knew that if she did she would be mocked.
Kerry B hides her socks and sandals as Photographer Me attempts to take a picture
I’ve told Kerry B several times that there has never been an era – not before Christ or after Him – when wearing socks with sandals was/is acceptable. She doesn’t care.
As you can imagine, Kerry B does not always make great overall fashion choices either, but what can a friend do? Sometimes, you just have to sit back and chalk it up to one of those “things that make you go HMMMM.” That is what I did with outfits like the two that follow.
Once upon another time, Kerry B, me and a bunch of friends (and some extra freaks who wanted to be our friends) went out dancing. This is the outfit Kerry B specially picked for that outing:
Kerry B felt like a HOTTIE as she trolled around the bar buying drinks for strange men
Then there was the Christmas when we were going to the mall to take our picture with Santa Claus. There was a soft flurry floating down from the heavens that day, but nothing to get excited about – except for Kerry. She decided to bundle up to not risk getting frostbite. This is the outfit Kerry B specially picked for that outing:
This darn outfit ruined our holiday picture
I can’t help but wonder where Kerry B gets her fashion sense from. It is not Mama B that is for sure. Mama B is always very stylish when I see her and when Kerry B goes out anywhere with her, she (Mama B) insists on dressing her (Kerry B) because she (Mama B) doesn’t want to be embarrassed by association. Still Mama B is proud of her daughter in spite of how she (Kerry B) turned out.
Mama B and Kerry B
That means Kerry B dresses like her father, Papa B.
You know what they say about apples and trees.
Me and Papa B
Jack loves to see pictures of Kerry B in all her interesting outfits.
Jack's reaction upon seeing a picture of Kerry B
No matter how questionable the fashion choices Kerry B makes are, it does not matter to me. She is one of my bestestes and she is like family to my family and I refuse to ridicule her just because everyone else does. God made me better than that.
God apparently forgot to make Margaret better than that.
Remember that story I told you at the start of this article about Margaret driving onto a sidewalk and nearly killing an alleged bag lady. Well, as it turns out, the alleged bag lady was none other than Kerry B! Though this incident happened years ago, I only found out about it recently as Kerry B tearfully told me her secret during a Skype call. I had been wondering why the heck she up and moved to North Carolina, home of a tornado or two, without any warning. Now I know.
Apparently Margaret (Hyde) was very jealous of Kerry B. She could not handle sharing me with anyone else, so she decided to take Kerry B out of the picture for good. For months Margaret (Hyde) trailed Kerry B and learned her ways and rituals. She knew that Kerry B loved to eat at the 99 Restaurant on Rt. 18 in Weymouth, MA and that she insisted on taking a little walk down the street and back right after she ate dinner so that she would not be all bloated when she got back into her car.
Kerry B decided to go to the 99 Restaurant the evening of the day we took our picture with Santa Claus and thank goodness for that – all that padding she wore to protect herself from frostbite also protected Kerry B when Margaret (Hyde) careened into her with the blue Buick (shown above) and sent her flying.
Kerry B quickly got up and tried to run away but Margaret Hyde leaped from the car and grabbed her by the goggles and told her to leave me alone forever or else… Kerry B ran away as fast as she could and moved to NC shortly afterwards.
To cover all her bases, Margaret (Hyde) called the cops and pretended like the whole thing was an accident and pretended she tried to help her intended victim. The coppers believed her and, if memory serves, I think one of them asked her on a date. Margaret is a very good actress.
Margaret is also a troubled soul and I’ve made it my mission to help her in her time of need (I’m afraid of her). I forgive her like the Lord forgiveth the homicidal Roman soldiers, because I believe she knows not what she does (she made me say that – she knows what she is doing. SHE KNOWS!). I will not abandon her now and I will always keep her as my Bestest, MA (because I’m afraid if I don’t she will run me over too). To do anything to the contrary would be dumb and God made me smarter than that.
iThou shall not steal, or maim, or kill...
Without Kerry to laugh at and hang out with, I find myself all alone and mostly friendless and, at times, pathetic. Oh what a wicked web we weave when we start stalking single white females.
Pathetic Me
I am beginning to think that Kerry wears a disguise and comes back to Massachusetts to costume Margaret for her various plays.
You know what they say about payback.
Until next time…
I’m turning off the turnip truck.
T
06 Sunday Nov 2011
Posted in Tributes and Tiaras
Here comes the turnip truck!
Hi Oprah. Hi Tina. Hi Ellen.
Well, my followers, the turnip truck has gone GLOBAL!
That’s right! I have my first subscribers from across the oceans and the skies and residing near the home of the famous Roman Forum in Rome, Italy.
WOO-HOOOOOO!
My first European subscribers during their last visit to the States!
I enthusiastically thank my European fans for riding on the turnip truck! It is a pleasure to have you on board.
Onward we move.
Perhaps you’ve started to feel sad because you thought you weren’t going to hear more about Miss Margaret any time soon; well then, it’s time for you to turn that frown upside down!
MORE ABOUT MARGARET
YOU WONDERFUL YOU
My Friend Margaret
A Living Eulogy
Part IV of VI
Part IV
Following is a photograph of Me and Margaret from our last show together: To Gillian on Her 37th Birthday. We played sisters. Can you see the family resemblance?
Disclaimer: Before I tell you about her next virtue, I want to disclaim that Margaret is really so jealous of me in every show that we do together because I always get the awesome costumes and she gets the not-so-awesome ones.
I believe Margaret believes that compared to those given to herself, my costumes are typically so much more flattering or interesting or glamorous or colorful or, as is often the case, they are all of these things at once. Margaret always tells people that I am tall and striking and that costume designers are inspired by my statuesque physique. I believe she is correct. This physical attribute is just one of the many gifts God gave me. I am blessed. Margaret has her own gifts.
To be costumed so beautifully show after show is just my reward for enduring comments like “she is just big-boned” or “at least she’s healthy” all my life. Margaret, being a petite creature, never heard such abominations growing up. She was one of the lucky ones.
The first show Margaret and I did together was La Cage Aux Folles. Following is an example of one of the 10+ outfits I wore during that production and an example of the only outfit Margaret got to wear.
Me. Note: This picture is NOT photoshopped. It is really me.
Margaret … and people say I’m pale. Doesn’t she look great as a red-head?
It seems to me Margaret and I looked more like sisters in La Cage than we did in Gillian. It must be the red heads of hair each of us was sporting back then.
I digressed. Back to the Living Eulogy…
Part IV
Margaret is a very awesome actor (that is the true part – it’s one of her gifts), but it is not this talent that makes her so stupendous – it’s her selflessness. Margaret is always choosing the less-than-awesome costumes when she is in a show [with me] so that her friends (and by “friends” I mean me) can have the stunning ones. And she never regrets that choice. (That is a lie – the costume designers force the frocks on her whether she likes it or not.)
In closing, I would like to bring this post full circle and drive the truck back to the Roman Forum. Following is a photo of me and Margaret in A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum. Margaret always denies being in this show with me, but the proof is below. I’ve diagramed the picture for you because I know you won’t recognize Margaret unless I do.
Poor Margaret. On the upside, my costume really shows off my healthy, big-boned thighs.
Until next time…
I’m turning off the turnip truck.
T
25 Sunday Sep 2011
Posted in Tributes and Tiaras
Here comes the turnip truck!
Based on the last round of comments I’m getting the feeling that my sister Nancy (Jack’s mom) is a little jealous of all the attention that Margaret is getting. So the focus of this post will be Nancy. For more on Margaret you will need to catch the next truckload of turnips.
The following is not an excerpt from Nancy’s living eulogy, but it is an excerpt from the toast I gave at her wedding.
Eulogy or toast – it’s all the same.
When I was writing the toast, I had a ball trying to recall or unearth funny, wild and/or crazy stories about Nancy – stories that would help the wedding guests know her a bit better. I wanted stories that reflected Nancy’s vibrant personality. After using a bit of personal recall and interviewing many people, the Stories of Nancy took shape. That shape was an oval. And so the stories go…
This is Nancy
Nancy is a beautiful, confident, hard-working (and rapidly approaching middle-age) woman.
My husband Jim loves the story of how Nancy was born a BHOA (Big Head of America – a term I first heard from my friend’s friend, Lynn), and he wanted me to include it in the wedding toast. At first I said: “Absolutely not! This is her wedding day and I cannot speak of the BHOANESS! Nancy is extremely sensitive when anyone brings up the subject. Best to leave that story alone.”
But Jim persisted and I said: “What the heck! She sort of grew into the size of her head after about 7 or 8 years. I should think that by now we can all talk about this somewhat traumatic time in her life and laugh. OK! I’ll do it!” And I did.
This is Nancy
I also told a story about the time my family vacationed in the hills of Italy. At the time, Nancy was a young child. During this vacation my siblings and I were lucky enough to visit a very distant relative’s pig farm (our parents made us do it).
By the time we reached the pig farm, we were disgruntled because back at the hut, which my dad called “a nice-a house”, we were forced to use a mud hole in the ground as a toilet. It was very gross. Anyway, my siblings and I stood outside a pig pen staring, repulsed at the filthy, squealing creatures. We were very unhappy.
Perhaps the pigs sensed our disgust or they heard our spiteful comments about their way of life. Whatever the reason, those pigs broke through their pen’s protective barrier, chasing us through the slimy quagmire. We ran for our lives, slipping on the glop beneath our feet. Nancy, being as small as she was then, couldn’t run fast enough – I had no choice but to hoist her up onto my back and carry her the rest of the way to safety. This was difficult because of the BHOA issue. Nancy’s head had not yet grown into her body and it kept bobbing everywhere, throwing me off-balance.
Pigs
At fist I didn’t want to use this story either because Nancy claims she still has nightmares about those pigs. But my mom felt this was a story of survival and thought that I should absolutely share it with the world (or at least with a room full of our nearest and dearest), so I said: “What the heck! That moment in the history of her life can’t be too tragic because she continues to indulge in Easter ham year after year with no problem. OK! I’ll do it!” And I did.
Still a Pig
After finding out about my little scavenger hunt to find stories, Nancy’s best-friend-in-the-world-Kate wanted me to tell everyone about a hilarious moment Nancy experienced at the gym a few days before her wedding. As it turns out, Kate thought the moment was hilarious. Nancy did not.
It was a sunny summer day and Nancy decided to go to the gym and pump some iron. Her first stop was the barbel contraption. Apparently, Nancy was mid-squat when her exercise pants split open, exposing her polka-dotted undies. Those nearby heard the cheap fabric tear and turned to see what happened. When they spotted the funny-looking undies they started to laugh – loudly.
Polka-Dotted Undies
Mortified, Nancy tried to put the barbel back on the holder-thingy and leave, but the shame that was washed over her in that moment caused her arms to shake violently making her lose control of the metal beast, which she then swung into the nearby enormous weight stand, knocking it over and generating even more of a raucous. By this time the entire gym was looking in her direction and everyone was pointing and laughing. Nancy left the gym crying and then promptly called to cancel her membership. She never wanted to see that lot of laughers again.
Weight Stand
I told Kate that she should be ashamed of herself for breaking the trust that Nancy had placed in her. Nancy told Kate this secret in confidence and assumed it would go no further. But Kate insisted that the story wasn’t told in confidence and that it was definitely not a secret, so I said: “What the heck! If we can’t all laugh at life’s little snafus, where would we be? OK! I’ll do it!” And I did.
This is Kate
I wish I hadn’t included this story in my toast. I think Kate lied to me. I think this story really was a secret because ever since that fateful week, I’ve noticed Nancy turn green and run out of crowded rooms where large groups of people are gathered and laughing. These innocent folks were only enjoying their respective jovial conversations. They were not laughing at Nancy, but that didn’t seem to matter. I can only guess that she recalls the scarring gym incident whenever she hears a group of people – any group of people – laughing near her. Oopsy.
On the flip-side of the character coin, Nancy is a headstrong, stubborn, extremely assertive (and rapidly approaching middle-age) woman.
When Nancy wants to do something – whether preparing for a marathon, bungee jumping or sky-diving – she does it passionately.
I remember the time she ran for political office in Weymouth, Massachusetts. Nancy ran as a republican. Nancy got all of her friends and family to stand on street corners and hold signs with her name boldly imprinted across it. As I recall, Nancy never actually held one of those signs herself, she just posed for pictures with strange little children and bossed her minions around.
The Campaign Bumper Sticker - I did not put this on my car because I think bumper stickers are ugly
A Scene from the Campaign Corner Featuring: Nancy, a Strange Little Boy, a Headless Body, a Mutant Mouse and The Sign
Because I admired her ambition, I stood in the freezing cold rain outside the polling building for hours on end the day of the election, holding one of those obnoxious signs. Because I stood in the freezing cold rain outside the polling building for hours on end the day of the election holding one of those obnoxious signs, I caught a vicious cold. Because the cold was so vicious, it took me months to get rid of it.
Ironically, I’m not a Republican and I couldn’t even vote for Nancy because I lived in another city at the time.
Nancy didn’t win, but she earned a Q for the title Queen. Wear that tiara proudly, Nancy!
This is Queen Nancy
Until next time…
I’m turning off the turnip truck.
T
