Baby Take A Bow

Ms Murphy called him the Jim Carey of first grade. He was quite the performer, always trying to make the other kids laugh. He had a rather advanced sense of humor. He was good at entertaining and loved being the center of attention. There was that one mishap at the Christmas program, but we won’t go there now, too painful to admit he cried on stage. He was after all, just a kid.

He took to school like a duck on a pond, his second grade teacher, Ms Hunter was obviously fond of him (and the feeling was certainly mutual). He formed friendships in those early days that have remained until now. Fred, Archie, Jim, Alex and Blake were friends from school, church or soccer.

It seems like yesterday he was in Mrs. Tickal’s third grade. He discovered his love for the written word under her fun adventurous influence. He read like a champ and wanted to be Indiana Jones.

The rest of elementary school is a blur to me now. I do recall a teacher telling me his disposition on any given morning set the mood for the entire class. I think that is referred to as charisma. We knew he had it but didn’t realize others recognized it in him as well. He was our clown at home, always causing uproars at the dinner table with his little brother.

Middle school was tough. He was an adventurer and that sometimes got him in trouble. It was an adventure just keeping up with what he would try next. He became a skateboarder, a tough guy, a mystery to me. All I knew to do was pray.

Thankfully, he discovered his place early in high school. His freshman year he auditioned for “Guys and Dolls” and got a pretty substantial part for a “novice”. His sophomore year he took his best classical monologue (from Shakespeare) to state theatre competition and won first place (and followed that up the next two years). He played Marius in Les Miserables that year and made me cry seven times in a row.

The stage was his escape, his sport and his passion. He amazed his family with every roll, from Tartuffe to Dodger, Marius to Sweeney Todd. I remember the first time I heard him sing on stage. I could not believe Revel Gholston pulled that voice out of my kid.

Today he will graduate from Opelika High School along with his friends from the early days. He will not be attending college this fall. He has chosen to go to Uganda to help build an orphanage and work with street kids. He has been preparing for this “part” his whole life. He leads by entertaining and loving others. The world is his stage.

Congratulations class of 2011, I am proud of you Matthan Brown. I love you more than words can say. Our house will be far too quiet and we will miss you terribly but you have a job to do.

Go change the world.

.

Apologies and Southern Novels

I have to apologize for my mistake last week. I knew the tornados that caused so much destruction across our state happened on April 27. I do not know why I said they were on May 4. I am not good with dates or names or geography. Throw in numbers and I am done for.
Maybe the number 27 was what got me. On May 27th Opelika High School will have it's commencement ceremony. You have heard already that one of my own will be among the several hundred in black and red. Perhaps the thought of that was at the back of my mind and I did not think two world changing events would happen on the same calendar number. It is more likely that I was not thinking at all. Sometimes it hurts my head. My apologies for the mistake.

I have toyed with the idea of writing a book. Call me Pollyanna but I think I may have a good novel in me somewhere.I have been pecking at one.It has a pretty good start, I really like my characters but after about sixty pages I am stuck. It would probably help to take a class or go to a workshop.
Like most Southerners, I have an admiration for Harper Lee. I have wanted to meet her for years but everyone says she's a tough cookie and doesn't do interviews. I suppose I could tell her I am not much of an interviewer myself so maybe we could just sit on her porch and talk, no questions about "THE BOOK" at all. I think I could do that, maybe...no, I couldn't. She would hate me for sure.
I actually wrote her a letter. It was cheery and personal...in a non personal, completely nonintrusive kind of way. I never mailed it. Yes I'm a chicken. I tend to be non confrontational and really hate rejection.
I thought about just going down to Maycomb, I mean Monroeville and stalking her, but I am certain it's already been done and I'm also certain she packs heat and has 911 on speed dial. I would be shot in no time.HLN and CNN would be all over it. The crawler would read, "Opinions Columnist Shot For Trespassing/Stalking/Asking Too Many Questions" or "Famous Novelist Shoots Deranged Columnist Hiding In The Hydrangeas"....they would interview my husband who would tell them he warned me not to go bother her. My sons would add that I should have ducked, but the good part would be my name and Harper Lee's in the same story! I am pathetic, I know. But, I may have just stumbled on the premise for my first best seller! "To Kill a Columnist"