We met him in the Musée d'Orsay in Paris twenty years ago. He always said he was attracted to my wife’s (joyce) stylish hat, or at least that was his story and he stuck to it. An art history professor, an American living in Paris, he invited us to join him on a tour he was giving to his students. “Would you and your man like to join us?” he asked joyce.  With an invitation like that, how could we not? “Yes,” we agreed. For the next two hours we listened and learned. The man was a walking, talking art history lesson. After the tour, we were invited to lunch with the group. We politely declined, figuring we had imposed enough on their time.

As we exited the museum, I mentioned to joyce that we should have gotten the gentlemen’s contact information so we could send him a nice note of thanks. She confidently replied,  “Oh we’ll see him again.” True to my name as a doubting Thomas, I confidently spouted, “We’ll never see that man again!” Two days later, while lunching at an outdoor café, joyce jumped up shouting, “There he is.”

“Who?” I asked. She was already giving chase. “The Professor,” she replied on the run.

She brought him back to our table. That evening we had dinner with him and his friends who were also Americans living in Paris. After that we visited for the next twenty years until his passing in March of this year. He came to our homes in Fort Walton Beach, Florida and Birmingham, Alabama. We visited him in Maine after he moved back to the states.

A physically short man with encyclopedic knowledge and an inquisitive mind regarding social issues, he was stimulating to be around. We went to a jazz performance on the River Seine in Paris. We went to the Moulin Rouge. He spent a Christmas with us in Fort Walton. He visited us in Birmingham for the premiere of my play, Speak of Me As I Am. Issues of ethnicity and American racism peaked his interest and touched off lively conversations. He always inquired about our son, Dixson. He was just incredibly special! I will never forget him.

The last time we saw him was in Maine two years ago. Living with his son Peter, he was confined to a wheel chair, but insisting that he would go back to his beloved Paris as soon as he was able. This month, in his 9^th decade, weak and frail, he passed away.

His son Peter posted a wonderful picture of him with his beloved glass of wine and a twinkle in his eye. Brandt Kingsley, you were one of a kind!

We do things for the benefit of our families.
We do things for our followers and those who support us.
We do things for the benefit of our friends and loved ones.
We do LOTS of things for the benefit of our children, godchildren, nieces, nephews, and grandchildren.
We do things for our neighbors and community.
We do things for our pets and plants.

And sometimes we just don’t want to “do” another thing!

Here’s why that… isn’t always a bad thing…

You can’t give what you don’t have and when you’re running on fumes, overdrawn, tired, and anxious, guess what you’re giving? You can have it all… just not all at the same time!

I read and listen to a lot of well-meaning people talking about the nobility of sacrifice, as though not being the one who always sacrifices is a bad thing to be avoided.

Likewise, I read and listen to others who encourage us to give (to every organization, person, and thing) that needs our help, money, time… as though not giving to everything/everyone means you are selfish (see above).

Where do these well-meaning folks get their concepts from and why are they trying to impose them on me?

Hear me out. After that, it’s your turn (laughing)!

If I was a car, how long could I drive before I ran out of gasoline, burned up my engine for lack of oil, could not clean my windshield because I had no fluid…? Does anyone call their car selfish or a slacker? Not that I’ve ever heard.

If I was a checking account, how long could I remain open before running up debits if no one ever made deposits of new cash into me… or how long would I stay out of jail for writing bad checks? Does anyone think of their checking account as selfish or slacking?

How pretty would the trees and flowers be if they never shed their old leaves and hibernated to grow new ones?

And last, why does no one ever call Christ a slacker or selfish for all of those times he, “Would often slip away to the wilderness and pray”?

My point?

Sometimes, you just need to say, “I don’t want to,” to all of the demands, needs, wants, projects, events, opportunities, and pleas of others and refill your tank, make a deposit, hibernate and rejuvenate, and if it’s your thing-pray. You’ll be better off for it and so will everyone else in your life. So, pace yourself and take a page from the car, checking account, nature, and Christ. Be just as good to yourself as you are to others, otherwise you won’t have anything for them, much less for yourself.

It will be difficult at first, especially if you’re used to always saying, “Yes, of course!”

Some people will get angry with you… okay.

Some people will ask, “But why?” And the answer is, “Because I just don’t want to.”

The first time you say, “No” or “because I don’t want to...” you may feel that hot, flushed feeling (okay, the first 20 times)… guess what? You’ll get over it.

What’s more, the more you do, the easier it will become.

How do you know if it’s a need versus you being selfish?

First, is it something you passionately want to do because it brings fulfillment while doing good?

Second, does it align with your purpose, goals, dreams and plans?

Third, will it require you to take something away from someone or something else (including yourself)?

Yes, Yes, No… consider.
No, No, Yes… decline.

Notice I didn’t say, “accept” because you still need to factor in how much “gas, cash, hibernation, and prayer” you’ve had before making a final decision.

The people who know me well know that I will reflect and consider all requests. Some I can almost immediately grant, others take me a while, and still more I decline. I know my limits better than anyone else does. I know exactly what I want and don’t want, like and don’t like, need and don’t need… even if I don’t let anyone else know. Those same people in my life have learned that if I say “No” that I have reflected and considered their request and that my answer is not frivolous or flippant. Those who don’t know me well try to guilt or talk me into it. That’s always humorous for those who do know me to watch (at least that’s what they tell me).

I don’t argue or fight (ask my husband). I don’t make excuses or make up fictitious reasons why I can’t. I just say, “No, I’m not going to be able do that,” or something along those lines. When they ask again I just say, “No, I’m not going to be able do that,” and that’s about all I say. I know my limits and I love me enough to not knowingly exceed them.

Are there exceptions? Of course! 3:00am screaming baby and I’m the only one who can feed him… 1:00am phone rings to tell me that a family member has had an unexpected event… you get the picture. But those aren’t the “norm.” They are exceptions. After which, I take extra time to hibernate, refill the tank, pray, and make deposits. I also do something small just for me, every day… have done so since I was a girl (thanks, Mommy).

If you’re no good to you, you’re no good to anybody else. That’s when, sometimes, the answer has to be, “…because, I just don’t want to.”

Most mothers have to wait months and sometimes years, after a son or daughter marry, to get grandchildren. I’ve always been one to make my own rules and forge my own path. Getting to become “Gram” was no different!

When our son married my amazing new daughter (notice I did not say, “daughter-in-law”), we automatically got grandchildren (laughing). I’ve heard people say it and never really understood, how you can love your grandchildren with every fiber in your being… now I get it. Don’t think there is anything I wouldn’t do within my power for Jenna, Channing, Parker, LuLu, and Collin. Anything! They are amazing, well adjusted, appreciative, and accomplished young people, ranging from age 26 to 9. Another time, I’ll fill you in on all the details. Right now, I want to talk about my first Christmas with (some of) my grandchildren (laughing)!

When Dixson and Sissy told us they could come for Christmas, I cried… then I started making a list! Favorite foods I already knew from Parker and Lu coming last summer. Gift ideas and little surprises. Decorations. House and Carpet cleaning. Things to do on that Sunday after they arrived and Monday for Christmas Eve. I had a full page of things to check off. Excited doesn’t even come close. Oh, for sure I was glad to spend Christmas with my son and daughter… But!!!

On the Sunday before Christmas, I woke up before 6am, too excited to sleep any longer! Dixson, Sissy, Parker, and Lu were leaving Savannah after Dixson got off work at the restaurant where he cooks. They would arrive around 9am and I wanted to make sure everything was ready. Decorations inside and out… Check. The weeks and weeks of food cooking, cookies, cakes, and pies in the fridge for warming… Check. Pot of soup ready for dinner… Check. Waffle batter, bacon, sausage, and fruit for breakfast when they arrived… Check. Gifts wrapped under the tree and stockings hung… Check. Bedrooms fresh and decorated… Check. Pop (aka Thom) ready… Check. FINALLY the text that they were 25 minutes away came!!!

Hugs. Kisses. Tears of happiness. The moment they walked into the door, I couldn’t stop smiling. They were here!!

Breakfast Sunday morning, then Parker, LuLu, and I just “had” to go to Target to get “stuff”… without parents, of course (laughing). We had a ball! There was a new game just calling our name (they like playing board games as much as we do). Some slime had Lu’s name on it and some gummy worms had Parker’s. So did a few other things. We escaped Target with minimal damage done. Back home, Pop decided to take Parker and LuLu to Wild Willy’s Adventure Park to play laser tag (something he had never played), ride go carts, and play games in the Arcade. The three remaining adults crashed and took naps (lol)! Parker won laser tag, Pop won air hockey, and Lu won in the Arcade. We played our new game, Oregon Trail after they got back, then had homemade beef vegetable soup with cheese and crackers for dinner and watched a Christmas favorite It Happened on Fifth Avenue… highly recommend it. Off to bed for everyone.

Christmas Eve, we had breakfast, showered and dressed, then went to the Okaloosa Island Pier to look at the marine life down in the water below. Lu touched a mostly domesticated pelican that hangs around the pier waiting for the fishermen and women to toss him (or her) fish. Heading back, we just had to stop at the Splurge Trampoline Park! Dixson, Parker, Lu, and… Gram jumped! Pop and Sissy watched and cheered us on. LuLu bested me on the one where you have to jump over a spinning boom arm (laughing), after falling down on both of my tries, I gave up. But I won on the obstacle course!! We jumped on everything there while Parker organized a group of boys into a “HORSE” basketball game on another trampoline… he won! Tired, and hungry, we headed home to warm and cook the rest of Christmas dinner. We ate until no one could eat any more, then cleaned up and bundled into the car to go look at Christmas lights. Because they had to leave on Christmas morning, we opened gifts that night. Pop and LuLu took turns playing “Santa,” handing out packages and stockings. Paper and ribbon piled up. Lots of excited squeals. Plenty of thank you hugs and kisses. Everything I could possibly have wanted and more.

Christmas morning. Breakfast. Loading up a cooler full of food for them to take home. More hugs, kisses, and tears. Then, they were gone.

Grandchildren at Christmas are the BEST EVER. Maybe next year, all of them can be with us!

Christmas food, beverages, gifts, decorations, and stockings $$$... Gram’s First Christmas with Grandchildren, PRICELESS!!!

I was looking through some friend requests on Facebook, when a smiling face jumped out at me. Before I confirmed it, I looked to make sure it wasn’t Spam. I also checked out the mutual friends we shared. There were five, a couple of the names looked familiar. A closer look, and I discovered that I recognized three of the five. I looked again at the request, the name and the photo. I grinned a big grin. The kind of grin reserved for those who have touched your soul.

Robert! He was one of my guys. Back in the 1970s, after graduating Auburn and moving back to Birmingham, I worked as a supply teacher at the legendary Parker High School. I subbed in the classroom.  The legendary principal, Bubba Thompson also made me his B-Team football coach. The Facebook request was from one of my players. Our mutual friends were also my players.

I only coached that one season, the siren song of television beckoned. We went 2-2-1. I can say as a coach I never had a losing season.

What has stayed with me and really matters are those guys and the relationships we built. They were young men searching for the person they would grow into, the way we all do at fifteen. They gave themselves to me.

Robert, a running back, always wore a smile. He was pleasant to be around. I wonder if his voice has grown into his body. He had a high-pitched voice. He loved to run the football. To be good, or great, a running back has to love to run the football. Robert wanted the ball.

The other guys on the list, Drake a linebacker, was smart, a thinker. Hardy, an offensive lineman, also very smart, a leader. Harrison, was a big kid, a running back, who would grow into a young man that could continue playing after high school. He was also smart.

I see Jake at Niki’s West in Birmingham. Niki’s has to be the most popular meat and three restaurant in Birmingham. Jake is a server. He was tall and rangy and played safety for us. His real name isn’t Jake, we renamed him after the Jake Scott who played at Georgia and with the Miami Dolphins. It is always good to see Jake.

The one recurring theme in my descriptions of these young men during their High School days is their smarts. They were good athletes, very respectful and also pursued their academics with the vigor of a big game against Carver.

They were wise enough to wonder what was next for their lives. The lure of big time college football was just spreading to the masses of southern black athletes. That was not in the picture. There was not the carrot of the NFL. There were no all-star camps to attend. ESPN was a thought in someone’s mind. My guys accepted this time in their lives for what it was, a wonderful season of life. One that would keep them bonded.

I am proud that I got to spend that year at Parker. Its reputation is outstanding. At the time it was a community public school. The black students who attended there would come from all over Birmingham. Most of my guys lived in the nearby community.

Whenever I am in Birmingham and I hear the word “Coach” directed at me I know it’s one of my players or students from that era. They are the only ones who call me “Coach.”  It’s special!

I’m proud of my guys. They are all productive citizens doing what they can for their families, their communities and each other. I am so honored that they would want to keep in touch with the old coach, who only coached one season.  My grin grows. They gave me one of the most wonderful seasons of my life.

I like to play with words and their definitions. It’s fun to tear something apart to see how it works, then put it back together in a different way so that it’s exactly what I need rather than what someone wants me to have. If you want to be technical, it’s called analysis and synthesis. Or, just making it fit. I do it with words . . . machines. . . relationships . . . crafts . . . you name it.

So, of course I played with the words in the title of my leadership book Why Are They Following Me? to see why they fit . . .

Why Are They Following Me? Because you take time to know them. Because they know you will protect them and make sure they feel included.

Why Are They Following Me? Because they want to go where you are going. Because they believe in your vision and that you’ll get there.

Why Are They Following Me? Because they believe in you. You aren’t perfect, but you are consistent . . . even when you don’t know or mess up, you say so, and you talk about why you messed up.

In the same way, I played with the words in the Section Headings of the book: Inclusion & Diversity; Vision & Translation; and Character & Reputation.

“Inclusion and Diversity” are used to talk about who is following you. Knowing and understanding the people in the organization. Learning more than just strengths and areas of need… knowing what motivates or encourages. Knowing what disappoints or engages. Knowing when to push and nudge and when to leave alone for reflection and thought. That takes intention and time. It also requires filling the organization with (or appreciating) people who are not “like” you. Making sure that there is opportunity for different perspectives, opinions, practices, schools of thought… whether you choose and select the followers or you “inherited” them… and making sure they know that they are included in all aspects of the journey toward the goal… not just “tolerated” with eye rolls and snarky humor when they contribute. Knowing Who is following you and including them is the foundation for what I think of as effective leadership.

“Vision and Translation” are the words used to describe the concept of why people follow. For me, they go hand in hand… the leader needs to know clearly where the organization, family, or team is headed. What is the goal? Yet, it’s not enough for her to know it… she must, must, must be able to translate that destination to every single person she wants to follow. No one can be unclear or unsure. No one can “not know” where they are going. She may not know exactly what she’ll find when she gets there or what it will look like… but she must know where and Why they’re headed in that direction and so must her followers.

Finally, the point of the spear is you… “Character and Reputation.” Understanding why people follow you, or don’t, is critical when thinking about what kind of leader you are. There is a Scottish proverb that my Cuban/Scott grandfather would say, “O wad some Power the giftie gie us, to see ourselves as others see us!” I repeat it to myself frequently because it is so powerful… it doesn’t matter one whit how I see myself as a leader (person), it matters how others see me because they are the ones who will chose to follow… or not! So ask for feedback. Pay attention to the way followers interact with you. Watch how relaxed (or anxious) they are when you’re in the room or in their space. Do they share struggles with you or tell you that everything is “fine” even when it is obviously not? Can they depend on you to keep your word or do they have to guess and second-guess whether or not you’ll come through? These and so many other things either make You a leader worth following or one who is not.

That’s why I like to play with words! They connect and lead to additional thoughts or insights for me… even when my connections don’t make sense to other people.

People ask me why I wrote the book in the format that I did. That’s an easy answer, it’s the way I explain, give talks and speeches, and think! I like to know how things connect to information I already have and to information I don’t yet have or don’t even know that I need. Knowing who is following and then understanding and defining where you want to lead them just naturally connects with whether you are worth following… at least in my mind (laughing).

It really doesn’t matter if you’re leading a large multinational organization or a small local one… a family or an educational institution… someone is leading and if it’s not you, then does he really know who you are and where he is going? If he doesn’t and he’s not someone you want to follow, shame on him. If you’re the one people are supposed to be following but you don’t know who they are as individuals, don’t know where you’re going (and neither do they), and you aren’t worth following, shame on you!

The New Year, 2019, full of promise, resolutions, and anticipation arrives with cold, rainy, windy weather and very little sunshine down on the Gulf Coast. So what’s a little weather? Right. Shortly thereafter I discover a water leak in the ceiling of our bathroom.  I check it out, reason we’re getting a new roof anyway, and determine it is a relatively easy fix.  My wife develops a sinus infection. “It’s nothing baby,” I say until she visits the doctor, comes home with prescriptions and says she (we) cannot travel. In the meantime, I develop a serious head cold and the annual early year pilgrimage to Santa Monica to visit relatives, view top notch independent and foreign films at my favorite independent cinema chain, get some writing done with an actor-writer colleague and of course my visit to Santa Anita horse track, is gone. I’m not a big bettor but I love these animal athletes. On an ordinary daily race day without the pomp and circumstance of a big money televised horse trace there are a few people like me there for the fun of it and there are the serious bettors there to earn some bill money.

 So it gets better, right? Well not yet, there is a mild disruption at work. But I am optimistic. Why? Two things I have learned. One, there’s not only always tomorrow, there is the rest of today. And I am excited about it. Yes! It’s the optimist in me. Since I became an independent business owner in 1987 and a full/part-time actor about that same time, I’ve learned two life-sustaining philosophies that always move me along.

One, the sun actually does come up tomorrow. That one sustained me during the height of my acting days in Hollywood. If I went for a really big, life-changing job and did not get it, I’d be disappointed. My family understood. They agreed I could be disappointed until… the next morning. Then as we would say on the football field, I had to “Shake it off,” and embrace the promise of a new day.

The other life-affirming axiom I learned from business ownership and the business of television and film is “I have enough for today.” Life as an artistic entrepreneur is like performing on the high wire with everyone watching on the edge of his or her seats, without the benefit of a safety net. You fall one time and…. the crowd holds its collective breath and… well you know the rest.  No matter the ups and downs, missed jobs, new employees, money hassles, torn rotator cuffs and really bad days on the golf course, we entrepreneurs, no matter where we are on the social and economic scale, always believe we have enough for today and thank goodness that sun will rise again tomorrow.

Enjoy the journey!

Christmas is a special time for many children in the world. Those who celebrate the holiday suddenly remember around Thanksgiving, that they need to be “good” in order for Santa to come on Christmas Eve. The world is filled with suddenly helpful, obedient, and non-fussing-with-sibling, children (laughing)! It’s a wonder that parents don’t arrange for “Christmas”to arrive every month, just to keep children in line!

There are many Christmases that stand out for me. Christmas of 1964 is near the top of the list.

I remember being so extra good that November and December.At seven, I did my chores without being reminded… a first; I brushed my teeth for real instead of just swishing with water; I went outside and ice skated in the park with my friends instead of staying in my room reading as I usually did… I was the model poster child. It didn’t last beyond Christmas when I reverted to my usual “Oh Joyce!” persona (laughing). But that year, I had an extra special Christmas list.

Christmas morning arrived and I leapt out of bed and ran to my parent’s room. “Mommy, Daddy! We have to see if Santa came!” I yelled excitedly. My mommy, who was about ready to deliver my brother at any moment, smiled up at me. “Go look and see, but don’t touch anything until we get there,” she said. I ghosted!

In our living room, I looked across the vast distance,zeroing in on the Christmas tree. Something caught my eye and I turned to the right. “I got it! I got it!” I screamed, jumping up and down. “Santa brought my piano!!!” There it sat, a brand new Lyon & Healy upright piano. I plopped down on the bench and lifted the lid, already envisioning the beautiful sounds I would make, just like the woman at the symphony I’d seen in January. I would be just as famous as she was in no time! Placing my hands on the keys, I positioned my fingers just as hers had been and plunked out the most awful sound in the world (laughing). Stunned, I resettled my fingers and tried again…same mess.

“You’ll have to take lessons, Joyce,” Mommy spoke from the doorway. “Practice and practice and you will play beautifully some day.”

“But I want to play Christmas music for everyone today,” I wailed. “I should be able to play, I watched everything she did.”

“Who did?” Mommy asked, confused.

“The lady with the symphony in January,” I exclaimed. “I want to play like her.” By now, I was crying.

“Joyce, stop. You will be able to play just as beautifully as the soloist at the symphony someday, if you practice hard and do everything Mr. Wooten tells you to do.”

“But I have been!” I explained through my tears. “I thought I just needed my own piano to be able to play better. It should have worked.”

“Oh Joyce,” Mommy sighed, brushing my cheek, “It just doesn’t work that way. You have to focus and practice.”

I slammed the keyboard lid down and got off the bench without a word. Marching across the living room in search of more cooperative gifts!

On my way, I spotted the bike… no, The Bike… the 3-speed English Racer bike that was just like my cousin David’s, only for a girl. Euphoria filled me again, the piano fiasco long forgotten… and I never did playlike the symphony soloist, by the way!

“Can I go outside and ride it? Please Mommy?” I begged, hopping up and down.

“May I, not can I. No Joyce, there is snow everywhere. You may ride when the snow clears.”

“Can I ride it in the basement then?”

“May I… Yes, but not today,” Came her automatic response.

Further frustrated, my eyes landed next on the brand new ice skates with their gleaming white boots and silver sharp blades. Promptly sitting on the floor, I threw off my slippers and shoved my feet into the skates. Already picturing myself gliding across the ice just like the Olympic Skaters we watched every winter. I could hear the roar of the crowd and see myself standing on the 1^st Place box with my Gold Medal around my neck. Standing on my brand new ice skates, so much better than the babyishstrap-on ones I currently had. This will make all the difference, I thought. “Can I… May I go across the street to skate on the rink?” I added a big smile, certain that it would make the difference.

“No, Joyce. It’s Christmas morning.”

“Right, so I should get to play with my presents then,” I pointed out. “It’s not fair to get presents I can’t do anything with!”

“Joyce,” she sighed, “Just open the rest of your gifts.”

Turning back to the bounty under and around the ceiling tall tree, I spotted a large box, beautifully wrapped, and grabbed for it. “My Easy Bake Oven!!!” I yelled. “Uncle Cal got it! He got it for me! I’m going to cook wonderful dinners in it!” I looked up at Mommy with a big grin. “I can cook Christmas dinner for you, so you can rest with the baby.”

“Thank you Joyce, why don’t you practice on simple dishes first though?”

“Okay,” I yelled. “I’ll cook something now.” Then I paused.Was this to be yet another gift I had to wait until I could use it… or would this one get me a “pass”?

“Ladies don’t yell Joyce. That’s fine, just don’t make a mess,” Mommy said as she turned toward the kitchen.

“Oh wait! I have to open the rest of my stuff and you and Daddy have to open yours.” She turned back and walked over to one of the chairs to sit.

Mommy watched me open the pile of presents and toys that could have been distributed to an army of children with an indulgent smile. I ripped and tossed paper and bows all over the living room. Daddy came out and sat to watch.

Finally, finished and exhausted, we had all unwrapped the Christmas bounty and exclaimed over every item. Ready to start baking, I turned back to the Easy Bake Oven box, prepared to open it and read the instructions.“Make your list so you can write your thank-you notes tomorrow,” Mommy said over her shoulder on the way to the kitchen to start Christmas dinner. Sigh, always the thank-you notes, Ithought. Bet other children don’t have to do this… just us! I left the living room, headed to my room for paper and pencil to make the dreaded list. It was the same for every birthday and Christmas. Make a list of the gift and who gave it to me. Use my stationary to write a thank-you note to every person… even relatives… get the addresses and stamps from Mommy… put them in the mailbox for the postman to pick up. Sheesh, I already thanked them yesterday when we were out delivering our gifts and I’ll see everybody else when they get here today for dinner. So why do I always have to write and mail the notes?I grumbled inwardly. If I have children,I’m not going to make them write thank-you notes! was my final thought of defiance as I finally returned and started my task.

Later that morning, Nana arrived with hugs and kisses, then Uncle Cal and my cousins, Gigi, Auntie, Grandpa Ed, and a host of other relatives filled our house with laughter and love. Mommy came up to me and hugged me. “I’m going to the hospital to get your little brother or sister now,” she whispered in my ear. “Why is he there? Is he sick?” I asked, having already decided this summer that I would have a brother, not a sister.

“No Joyce, that’s where Mommy’s go so the doctor can take the baby out of their tummy’s.”

“Oh. Okay then. Come back with him soon so I can play with him,” I replied, engrossed in the cake recipe for my oven. She kissed me and left.

The rest of the day was filled with people, phone calls from relatives in other states, and playing games. I plunked out a one-fingered version of Jingle Bells on my new piano, to my disgust and everyone else’s delight. I made recordings of everyone on my new tape recorder from Uncle Cal.

At about 8:30 that evening, Nana came into my room to wake me up. “Mommy wants to talk to you,” she said. “Put your robe and slippers on and come to the phone.” Sleepily, I complied. Walking into the kitchen, I took the phone from Nana. “Hi Mommy,” I sleepily mumbled. “Joyce,” Mommy said, “You hav ea little brother.” “I know. I already told you that I was having a brother.” I replied, hung up the phone, and went back to bed (laughing).

Ya know when you thought, “Oh I want a job that travels! I would love to be a traveling business professional! I want to explore!”

Pause.

Now that I have traveled for work, and more specifically, spent 12 nights in October not in my own bed… I really don’t know what I was thinking….

Just kidding.

Travel for work is awesome. All you have to do is your job, and everything else is taken care of. Your gas gets paid for, your airline ticket gets paid for, your food, and sometimes even your beer or wine get paid for. Either the company pays from the get-go or you are reimbursed. It’s like you aren’t even spending money.

You get to visit some cool places too! I went to Tulsa, Oklahoma for 6 days for my first “business trip” in 2017.  We stayed downtown at a nice hotel. I was pleasantly surprised with the city and enjoyed all the restaurants, shops, and museums we visited…though I was appalled that in 2017 there are still places that don’t brew Sweet tea. If you are ever in Tulsa make sure you stop by Glacier Confection, and send me a treat for recommending it!

A year later, our client organization had their conference in Hershey, Pennsylvania. Being from Cumberland, Maryland, only about 2-3 hours away, it was nice to revisit and actually spend a night (or 5) there, in the Hershey Lodge. My family was able to visit me, which was wonderful, and when it was time to head back home, my suitcase weighed 10 pounds more than it had on arrival, due to all the chocolate I was gifted. Next year, for that conference, I will be heading out to Spokane, Washington. The furthest west I’ll have been!

I’ve had my share of “day trips” to Auburn, Birmingham, and/or Montgomery (all Alabama) in the last year or so. Drive (or ride) up that day, work, may or may not stay the night, then head back. They aren’t too bad. Just makes for a long day. Most recently we worked in Auburn for a week at a time, for 2 weeks in October. It made for a very different experience. I stayed at the "Auburn Hotel" as a guest, where I worked at for three years while in school. I was surprised at check-in to be staying on the “Executive Floor” and when I arrived to my room and saw a VIP amenity.

I guess I finally made it…

Totally kidding.

But I did have time to visit with friends I hadn’t seen and dearly missed. It was nice to hit my favorite spots and even take some recycling to the drop-off center like I used to. I had missed Auburn.

Through all this, there was work. Hard work. Emotionally, mentally, physically draining work. Plus, travel already takes “it” out of you. I really like my sleep...in my own bed, with my own pillows and covers, and a comfortable room temperature. I don’t think I had ever experienced this type of tired until I traveled and worked at the same time.

It’s all worth it though. It’s so nice to go somewhere “new” (even if the location isn’t new, the work/client is different), to be able to show my value to the team, to experience variety, and to feel accomplished when it’s over.

So, after a week of recovery time…I think I'm back to normal.

Gotta keep on travelin', movin' on down the line...

It was nearly 7 am in Savannah, Georgia, still dark enough for headlights. I was fourth in line at the drive-through at the Krispy Kreme Doughnut Shop on Abercrombie Drive. The flashing “HOT” sign lured me into its greedy web.

“I’ll only get three,” I told myself. “Three hot glazed,” Mmmmmm. I could taste them, already. “The last time I had some was the last time I was here, some four months ago,” I rationalized.

Waiting, I rested my arm on the stomach I had grown. My own personal armrest reminded me of the continual promise I kept making to myself. I would lose weight by getting back to eating to live rather than living to eat.

The nagging started.“This Monday will be the start,” I once again promised myself, “I’ll do it this time.”

The drive-through curved to the left and led to the pick-up window on the other side of the building. An adjacent road to the right, led back out into the street and in the direction of my hotel. I was literally at the fork in the road, or at least the fork in the drive-through.

I debated myself. “I could continue on the path I am on,” I thought. “Get my three Krispy Kremes.” I could still taste them!

“Or I can just win this moment,” I thought.

“Maybe this moment won’t be life changing but… if I win this moment…!”

I tried to turn away from the Krispy Kremes but I couldn’t. “Glazed,” was winning the moment, “Mmmmm!”

The debate continued. Could this moment be the start to the rest of my life? Would I let it slip away? I have a photo someone sent, of me in my football uniform in 1976. I am an athlete in top condition. I can be again I tell myself. No, not an athlete in top condition, but be conditioned through exercise and putting the right foods into my body.

Can I do it?

I won that small battle with the drive-through. At 7:05, I turned away from my three Krispy Kremes.

Is it a life changing moment? We’ll see. 

It was August 2011! I’ll never forget counting down the days until I left. It was so sad…but it was so exciting, so major, I couldn’t wait for the day. I said my “proper goodbyes” to most of my friends. That morning I hugged my mom and my Nana, and dad and I got in my packed down car and started our 765 mile road trip to a place where I had only been once, and didn’t know a soul.

After ~about~ 12 hours in the car, dad and I made it to our hotel. I remember coming off the exit and seeing a Golden Corral (ugh! Haha), a WalMart, and then getting to the Jameson Inn. We had made it to Auburn, Alabama. This was my new home. Hungry, we asked where we should eat…the recommendation…Niffer’s! We got fried pickles and I signed the wall somewhere near the bar. After we ate, we went back to the hotel and settled in for the night. At some point, one of us made a comment about the TV, or clock, or cell phones or something being a different time. Without thinking I said, “well maybe we’re in a different time zone,” and after a few seconds, we realized we were! (lol)

Auburn had just won the National Championship in January, and you couldn’t drive by, or walk in, anywhere without the store, signs along the road, or the items in every store letting you know. I watched the game with a group of friends after attending a Fort Hill basketball game (I think?). When it was getting down to the end, we joked that whichever school won is where I would go to college. That’s not the reason I went to Auburn, but isn’t that funny?

I moved into my apartment, started my classes, made a few friends, and quickly got a job. I got hired at the Sonic on South College. It lasted less than a week. Turns out an unorganized store and $4.14 an hour wasn’t for me. I called and quit the Friday before the first Auburn game.

On September 3rd, Utah State came to Jordan-Hare. All I could do was take it all in. RVs full of people tailgating, cars parked all over the place, and people in orange (and some blue) were everywhere. It was an “All Orange” game, so I wore my new orange Auburn shirt. I climbed all the way to the top of the stadium, and for the first time- I saw the Eagle fly, listened & participated in the stadium-wide Auburn call cheers, and watched the marching band in awe. If you ever go to an Auburn game, DO NOT miss pregame, it’s the best part!

The game went on, and boy, if that first game wasn’t a perfect metaphor for my new life as an Auburn fan. I’ve learned to hope for the best and expect anything. We beat Utah State 42-38, and I went out and bought myself a pair of orange Chuck Taylors in celebration.

Who knew I’d ever own this much orange?

Even though I didn’t know it yet, the “Auburn Family” was a real thing. My Auburn Family welcomed me, an outsider, and taught me all the things I needed to know. They welcomed me to their tailgates, they invited me to games with them, they taught me the cheers, the songs, the traditions, and they showed me what a real Auburn fan was.

I can’t believe that was seven years ago. There were so many new experiences and so many changes I have experienced since then. But as we prepare for another football season, I look back at those milestone moments as a Auburn student and fan.