Adventures in Mexico: My walk to the point

Because I’m a strong believer in staying positive and always trying to improve myself, I pick up the occasional inspirational book for a bit of a recharge. Being on vacation is always a good time to catch up on my reading, too. The book I’m reading suggests that you make a list of at least 100 things you would like to do before you die; you know, like the “bucket lists” that have become so popular of late.

So after thinking things through, I came up with a few local items to do while I’m here on vacation. One of them included walking to the point.

Now, let me explain something about our beaches here. They are lovely, don’t get me wrong – but they are more along the lines of your Cape May rocky shore than your soft Bermuda beach. Quite frankly, walking along the shores here has more in common with bouldering in Tahoe than a tranquil stroll in the sunset.

But I was undeterred! I would walk to the point! Even though it meant doing it in my flip-flops, over dangerous, ankle-twisting terrain! I was going to do this! I was going to conquer the point!

I’ve gotta admit, though, after watching bunches of sun-drenched, barefooted surfer dudes hopping and leaping their way across the path like mountain goats, I figured it would be a snap. I mean, I wasn’t going to be encumbered by a big honking surfboard, and I’d have shoes. It would be easy!

WRONG!

The first thing I discovered was that I have feet straight out of The Princess and the Pea. One tiny grain of sand caught under the strap of my sandal, and oy! It felt like my foot was being attacked by hundreds of sandblasters. Agony!

The alternative was no better, though: removing the shoes and walking barefoot only created pain in the ankles, heels, and toes! One sharp, pointy rock to the arch and I was through! The shoes went back on!

So there I was, picking my way through the minefield in this jerky “step, lift foot, shake shoe, step, lift foot, shake shoe” manner that was straight out of Spaz Cadets 101. Add in a slip and slide every now and then due to shifting pebbles that would cause me to throw my arms up and out in strange angles, trying to keep myself upright, and you’ve got a candidate for Monty Python’s Ministry of Silly Walks.

Did I tell you I was determined? I was! I mean, for goodness sake, I’d put it on my list, and it was the first one I was attempting to tackle – how seriously foolish would I feel if I couldn’t even cross off my first item?

I refused to give up! I lingered at the tide pools, watching hermit crabs no bigger than a pinpoint. They were adorable, and could only really be noticed when their little shadows moved.

It was then that I noticed the buzzards. I was all alone – no other fools were attempting the trek (obviously they weren’t feeling the draw of self-awareness and improvement that I was). And there they were, three buzzards looking at me with hungry eyes. Clearly they were hoping that either the rising tide or the treacherous coast would get them an early seat at my dinner table, so to speak…

I remained undaunted and pushed on, achieving my goal about fifteen minutes later.

I was rewarded by a beautiful sight: the Marietta Islands off in the distance, the crashing waves, the open skies. It was lovely.

You know how they say that the return trip is always faster and easier, partly because you have figured out the unknown, and partly because you know you are going home? Well, they couldn’t be more right about this. As I was heading back I ran into an old friend who offered to drive me back to town.

I took him up on it!

Adventures in Mexico: Pelican Ponderings

From the balcony of our condo in Mexico, we can see amazing natural beauty. There are the rolling waves, the fishing boats, the misty mountains of Bandaras Bay (although I have yet to see Antonio anywhere…). But you can also see some very odd things – like pelicans.

Yes, pelicans. They’re so graceful in the sky, but crash land with the velocity of Chuck Yeager’s Bell X-1 breaking the sound barrier. This aerial display is so captivating I could sit and watch it for hours on end. I can’t help but see one and think, There were definitely dinosaurs at one time. I mean, if anyone ever needed proof of the existence of pterodactyls, all they need to do is watch a flock of pelicans bobbing on the water or crossing the sky.

I’m sort of addicted to pelicans, you could say. They amaze me. They really are quite fascinating to behold, what with their duck-like bodies and their enormous heads. They look constantly on the verge of a faceplant, which, I might add, they do on a regular basis while feeding.

I’m really not sure how they ever catch anything. I would assume that the first shockwave caused by the initial feeding pelican would chase all of the fish away – what with the birds' legs and wings all akimbo, and their butts sticking straight up in the air. Unless of course the fish are just laughing so hard they don’t see it coming… Fish aren’t the brightest creatures, I’ve been told… But I think they do have a pretty good sense of humor!

Down the beach a bit, about half a mile from our bay, is the tree I call the Pelican Tree. This is where the local pelicans hang out, sun themselves, and probably chat about the gringos. It’s a pretty cool sight: these big, heavy birds perched on tiny branches that bend under their weight. They sit with such balance and grace, wings outstretched to warm themselves in the sun, or with their enormous heads tucked under a wing for a rest. The funniest thing about them is that when their beaks aren’t full of fish and water, they form an “old lady underarm” wattle type of sack. Consequently, when they tuck their heads in, the beak folds in against their chest and they look like honest-to-goodness pinheads from a distance. Honestly, it’s like a big fat body with a hat pin stuck in it. Truly a sight to behold.

In an effort to become one with my favorite birds, I sat a bit away from them and over the course of fifteen minutes moved ever-so-slowly toward the tree. At first they didn’t seem to notice me, or decided that if they pretended not to notice me I might just go away – which I think they would have preferred, since I obviously did not possess wings, feathers, or a beak. However, after twenty minutes of being quite stealthy… I sneezed. The birds went on red alert. Several took to the sky, others nearly fell off their branches and had to flap their wings to regain their balance. One turned his beady black eye in my direction. Because of that enormous beak, they don’t seem to look at things straight on; they turn their heads to the side and catch you in a one-eyed stare. It’s like looking into a black hole or vortex… It’s a little intimidating! And then, to my horror, the bird let loose with an enormous plop that splattered the rocks below and nearly got me with its ricochet. The statement had been made: I was an intruder.

I took that as a sign that I was no longer welcome and headed home… defeated.

I guess I’m just not meant to be the Pelican Whisperer.

A Valentine's Day Memory

Never let it be said that teachers don’t hold an enormous amount of influence on a child’s life. I’ll go on about teachers in general in another entry, but I thought that with Valentine’s Day having just passed, I’d share my favorite Valentine’s moment. It also happens to be about a teacher and so you could say I’m killing two lovebirds with one stone…

About seven years ago, my husband Scott, who loves to cook, thought it would be fun to have a nice, casual Valentine’s dinner with a few of our friends. He had planned a lovely meal and was cooking away while I set the table. Scott and I are very good at splitting the duties and taking on what we know we each do well. I do best at staying out of his way and setting a pretty table.

About half an hour before our friends were to arrive, Scott poured himself a glass of wine, put on some music, and settled on the couch to wait for the remaining dishes to finish in the oven.

There, he pulled out a little bag and handed it to me with a sweet, “Happy Valentine’s Day,” and a kiss on the cheek.

I opened the present, and was surprised to see a very pretty box of body lotion. Now, let me explain a little something about myself: I’m not really a girly-girl. Perfumes, jewelry, bath products, all that sort of stuff is lost on me. I’m much more of a “funny hat” or “fun book” type of gal. But hey, it was Valentine’s Day, and I didn’t want to be rude.

Not wanting to disappoint, I opened the box, palmed a little of the lotion in my hands, and rubbed them together. And that’s when I burst into tears.

The sensual experience was absolutely overwhelming. All of a sudden I was transported back to my first grade classroom in Philadelphia. I was standing next to my favorite teacher, Mrs. Davis. Mrs. Davis was this compact little African American lady who wore glasses, prim skirts, and stockings over unshaven legs. I loved Mrs. Davis. She was the first teacher to push me to perform beyond my grade level, allowing me to move as quickly as I could through English, reading, and math, the subjects in which I excelled. And she always, always smelled like roses.

The funny thing is that my unknowing husband had stumbled upon the most perfect of gifts by total accident. He was shopping for the dinner supplies at a very fancy supermarket in Hillsborough, and he realized he had totally forgotten to get me a Valentine’s Day gift! Since I’m allergic to chocolate, candy was out. Since there were no overalls or funny t-shirts to be had, he went with what was left: body lotion. He could have never known the impact that gift would have on me. The completely visceral reaction the lotion caused was unbelievable, and left me reeling.

Ever since that day I have worn the lotion. Scott is sweet enough to purchase it for me in bulk on various occasions (birthdays, Christmas, etc.) so that I have a supply of it year-round. There was even a momentary panic when it looked like they were going to discontinue the brand, but thankfully that never happened!

The loveliest thing for me is that every day I am reminded of my wonderful teacher. And every now and then someone will comment on my “scent” and I’ll tell them the story of Valentine’s Day and Mrs. Davis. The greatest outcome of sharing the story is that usually that person will then tell me about their favorite teacher, or share a special moment from their childhood, and thus the memories of those amazing educators and mentors live on.

So although this is at its heart a Valentine’s Day story, what it really is is a tribute to an awe-inspiring woman who touched me – and so many like me – at a very young age.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Mrs. Davis.


Image from Two Crazy Crafters

My MacGyver Moments

In the party biz, I have a great many of what I like to call “MacGyver Moments.” For those of you who miss the reference, MacGyver was a TV show in the mid-Eighties to early Nineties. The main character was a troubleshooter who would solve problems in non-violent ways, often using only what he had on hand (most readily duct tape and a Swiss Army knife). And from the looks of it, he and I could have shared the same hair stylist!




Basically, MacGyver Moments (or MMs, for short) are those “Oh dang, we left table coverings back at the warehouse and there’s no time to go back for them” moments. They’re when I’ve got to use my head to get myself out of what could be a sticky situation with a client. Remember, the job of a party planner is to make everything look effortless, so if you’ve forgotten something or discover something at the last moment (like the client who brought her own piñata but didn’t realize she needed to fill it too – more on her in a sec), you’ve got to find a way to cover. Never, never, never let the client see you get tense! It’s okay to get in your truck and scream at the top of your lungs, or have a panic attack in front of your diehard employees behind closed doors, but when the client sees you, you need to be calm, cool, collected, and alllll smiles.

Here are a few fabulous MMs from my past…

Remember the mom with the empty piñata? That was truly a shocker. It was the very end of a party, and I had arranged a treasure hunt that would lead to a piñata that the mom had purchased. Now of course the piñata could not be hung until right before the treasure hunt began or else the kids would see it, so I had one of my assistants do it for me while I was singing a rousing rendition of “Down By The Bay.” I was belting out “Did you ever see a mosquito eating a burrito?” when my assistant whispered in my ear: “I think the piñata is empty… It’s really, really light.” I nearly choked on the chorus. Out of the corner of my mouth I whispered to my assistant to go check with the mom about whether or not she had filled it, while I continued to take requests from the kids for animals to rhyme in the song.

I could tell by the horrified look and the shaking of heads across the room that there was no filler. We were in trouble. It was too late to fill the piñata – it was already hung in its special hiding place.

Now, thankfully, I usually have treats in my games box for various games, so I instructed my assistant to gather as much candy as they could and meet me at the final treasure hunt destination. When the kids got there, we set about opening the piñata in the usual way, each kid taking a turn at bat. My assistant, whom I had hide in the tree (thank goodness it was an easy tree to climb!), waited patiently, bag in hand. When the piñata finally cracked open we made a big show of the breakage as my assistant dumped the candy out of the baggie from above. None of the kids were the wiser (mostly because small kids don’t tend to look up a lot!)

Another time we were decorating for a disco party; we were hanging these really fun sparkle curtains, but someone had forgotten to pack the hooks. So we just used opened-up paperclips. Simple and effective.

More than once we’ve forgotten table coverings (or were mislead by the client into thinking that they would bring them). We’ve used everything from cutely duct-taped garbage bags to fabric from the décor, even stapled reams of paper!

I gotta admit that sometimes the MacGyver Moments are better than the original products. Take for example this big corporate event we did. We had ordered this very special (and expensive) plastic wrap with which we were to cover the client’s very fancy boardroom chairs. The kids were making candy houses, and we needed to protect the chairs from the icing. Well, somehow (and I’ll never know how, other than maybe fairies stealing it) the roll disappeared. Just evaporated into thin air! After searching for it for fifteen minutes, I was in sheer panic. Here were these very expensive chairs, and I had nothing to cover them. I knew the client would be livid, as we’d already had a long discussion about how to protect them. I was about to start hyperventilating when an MM hit like a bolt of lightning. I grabbed a big Glad garbage bag and slipped it over the top of the chair, then secured it into place by tying back the closer ends. The result was quick, easy, and looked better than the original plastic wrap would have because it was black and perfectly matched the chairs. I sent an assistant to Walgreen’s, and 25 minutes later the job was done – and the client was none the wiser.

I’ll definitely be sharing more of these moments with you in future postings. I can already tell you, I’ve learned that duct tape, paper clips, and pipe cleaners can fix anything…

Murphy's Law

I think Murphy (of Murphy’s Law fame – you know, “anything that can go wrong, will?”) must have a little place in his heart for us small business owners.

Both my husband and I own and operate our own small companies. He has video production, and I’ve got party planning. Usually, our jobs keep us on the fast-paced setting on the treadmill of life. We both pretty much work 24/7. This, I know, is nothing new to most Americans who spend most of their time trying to balance work, family, and the occasional getaway…

But about five years ago, my husband declared that February would be our month to get away and reconnect. February is typically a slow month for us, and so taking ten days or two weeks is usually fine. Note that I said usually!

This year, well – I’m not sure what happened!

For some reason inquiries for February parties started rolling in back to back, like those balls in a bingo machine. Each one made me wince as I had to pass them on to other party planners or try to convince them that little Teddy wouldn’t know the difference between his real birthday and a whole different month! (I can just see the poor kid in therapy now… “I don’t know, doctor. It all started when my parents changed my birthday from February to March… I just don’t feel like a Pisces!”)

But I swallowed my angst, packed our suitcases, and set out to enjoy my time away. It’s important to go someplace with a different perspective, meet new people, experience new foods, try to get internet service…

In years past, Murphy usually waited at least a few days before crashing our party. But not this year! We weren’t even out of the San Francisco airport before my husband’s phone rang and he had to take an important call that almost made us miss our plane. Seriously – they were doing that “Paging Scott and Sophie… Paging Scott and Sophie… Please make your way to gate 27… The pilot and the rest of the crew would like to get moving…”

And I was no better. As soon as we reached our destination and I had connected to my Gmail, I knew I was sunk…

I suppose it’s our own fault for choosing a place where we can actually be reached, unlike some of my friends who go totally Robinson Crusoe and completely disconnect from the rest of the world. But hey, it could be worse. After all, there’s nothing like the sound of the pounding waves and crying pelicans to help you think of new party ideas…




Here in Mexico, my thinking cap is a sombrero…

The Penguin in My Shower

One of the things I try to inspire in folks is to look at things (bottles, packing materials, trash cans – everything!) in different ways. Sure, it’s easy to look at a plastic water bottle and see a container for other things: liquid soap, detergent, other liquids… But I’m talking about seeing it for really different possibilities. A rocket perhaps, or a pirate ship, maybe a baby doll… The challenge lies in looking at it for its basic shape.

The world around us is really just a variety of shapes all mixed and stacked and piled up to form something recognizable to our eye, like a VW Bug or a fire hydrant.

I used to love those picture books in school where they’d make letters out of the items they’d find in an everyday urban setting, like an “O” out of a big tire, a “T” from a pedestal table, or a “D” from a dustpan – it was all in how they photographed it. (You can see an example of that I’m talking about here!)

The other day I was taking a shower and to my amazement, I realized there was a penguin in the corner! No, not a real penguin (although that would be cool!). You see, I had been running low on conditioner, and because I like to make sure I get every last drop of shampoo or conditioner out of the bottle, I added a bit of water to the almost-empty bottle and then turned it over to let it settle while I showered. When I turned back, there it was, staring right back at me. A penguin!



Can you see it?

I wouldn’t have seen him if he’d remained in his normal position, but by turning him upside-down, his true nature was exposed! Take a look and see if you don’t agree with me!



There he is!

In praise of libraries...

This week I had two library appearances: one in Chinatown, and one down near the ballpark at the Mission Bay branch.

Every time I do a library art program I am struck by the overpowering urge to jump up on my soapbox and sing the praises of our local library system. (Thank you, Ben Franklin!)

The children’s librarians across our city are amazing. They offer so many services, both educating and entertaining, to so many on only a meager budget.

During these fiscally difficult times, the library has become a haven not for just children, but also for folks who are out of work and looking for jobs. The computers alone offer a window of opportunity for so many who don’t have access to a computer at home. The librarians I work with tell me that their enrollment is up at least 35 percent, and that these are not just folks who are down and out, but those with families looking for fun and free things to do.

I’m sure some of you think that the library is becoming obsolete. What with all the information available at our fingertips, who needs a library for research anymore? I’m sure most of us have those movie images running through our head of an old crone librarian hag who swoops down, finger pressed firmly to her chapped lips, making that horrible snake-like hissing sound, “Shhhhh!” If that’s your image, I suggest you go check out a story hour sometime. Nothing could be farther from that picture!

Jasmine, over at Mission Bay, has a baby/toddler story time that packs in over 130 people each week. It’s grown so large that she’s had to add supplemental story times. After the book reading, she brings out toys for the babies, and the moms, nannies, and caretakers all chat while the kids gum copies of “Elmo’s Alphabet.”

The thing that’s so great about the library programs is the chance for folks to connect. What I love about my art classes is that folks all sit down with their children and get creative as a team, each learning and inspiring those sitting around them. The adults get into it along with (and sometimes even more than) the kids. Everyone at the tables starts chatting… connections are made… a sense of community begins to form.

Our society needs places like this, where people can come together, share ideas, have a little fun, as well as borrow a book, movie, or CD. It’s also a great thing for kids to learn the responsibility of borrowing something and returning it. (My suggestion: mark your calendar a week before things are due, and start a “returns” basket near your door. I also suggest a little whiteboard where you keep track of how many items and what kind that you have borrowed – it should help you avoid those late fees!)

My advice: if you are looking for something fun to do this weekend, go check out your local library. Take advantage of the great programs they have to offer. A library is more than just a place to get books, it’s a place to get inspired.

If you’re interested in learning how to help out your local library, check out this site from the California Library Association!

The Great Save

Okay, I have a confession to make. I’ve been keeping a dirty little secret, and it’s hard for me to admit it, being a “party girl” and all…

But I hate balloons.

Not for environmental reasons (which are definitely a concern these days). Not because they are depleting the world’s helium resources (no, really – there was a helium shortage announced a while back). Not because they can be a choking hazard for little children and small pets (although that is always a concern for me).

And actually, “hate” is a little harsh. It’s not that I hate balloons themselves, I just hate having to “do” balloons!

I am a huge fan of other people’s balloons. I’m always amazed and awestruck by the balloon artists I meet. In fact, a dearly beloved vendor of mine, Brian Asman, is going to be starring in a new TV show called “The Unpoppables” about his balloon business. I’ve already set my Tivo!

Balloons are great for décor, I admit it! They are colorful, big, they float – and they can change the feel of a room in an instant. Children are mystified by balloons, too. To them, they’re absolutely magical.

But balloons take time… LOTS of time. And if you are on a tight timeframe, trying to decorate a location, these babies can totally burst your time line.

And then there is the great hidden talent that all balloons possess, no matter how big or how small…

Balloons are the all-time great escape artists of the party industry.

Shall I tell you about the time when I was doing a party in a park, and opened up the door to my van, and the two dozen balloons I had tucked neatly in the back wriggled loose from their binding and zipped past my head and into the sky? Sure, I could have grabbed the ribbons – if I hadn’t been holding a cake in my hands! Hm, let me see… Drop the cake or grab the balloons? Drop the cake? Grab the balloons? In that scenario I think I’ll opt to send my assistant to the local Safeway to pick up some replacement balloons instead.

Another time, we had a van full of balloons (all with weights, mind you). The client was in a very large space, and we had very little time to decorate, so we opted for lots of pre-blown balloons. This would have been a great idea, had my poor husband, who happened to be helping us out on that party, not opened the back door while the side door was also open, causing a wind tunnel… And you guessed it, another great escape.

I was inside the rental hall busily decorating, and couldn’t figure out where Scott was. He was gone for like fifteen minutes! Finally, he comes staggering in the door, completely red-faced and sweaty, clutching a tangled mass of balloons. He had chased the bundle for six blocks (in fancy shoes, mind you). The balloons had a weighted clip on them, but because my husband is on the vertically challenged side, they still hovered about two feet out of his grasp for the entire chase. Evidently, the balloons took off like a shot, down the street, past a park (much to the excitement of a gathering crowd), around a corner, across the road, and down two blocks where they finally came to rest in a tree outside a coffee shop. The morning breakfast crew stood and watched the entire affair while they sipped their lattes, and gave Scott a round of applause when he successfully caught them.

More recently, we were decorating for an adorable Father-Daughter dance at a local school (I’ll write about that another time!). We were using these big, three-foot balloons with sixteen-inch “collars” (a collection of four sixteen-inch balloons tied together and gathered at the base of the big balloon). They were really cute, but we were pressed for time and were putting them together in the grand entryway with its 35-foot ceilings – you’re already a step ahead of me on this, aren’t you? Well, you got it. One of the collars escaped while I was attaching it to the three-footer, and quicker than you could say “Buzz Lightyear” it rocketed up to the pristine stained glass ceiling. Nothing says “dummy party planner who should have blown up the balloons in the low-ceilinged office” louder than balloons on the ceiling…

So, how to get them down? Well, that’s where handy-dandy duct tape comes to the rescue! I ran up to the balcony (remember, we’re pressed for time!), affixed a huge wad of duct tape to the top of another 16-inch balloon, and like a fisherman luring in the big one, I hunkered down to try and ensnare the collar. All around me gasps of “Oooh, you almost had it!” and “You’re so close!” echoed in the great hall. It was tense… All eyes were on me… I couldn’t fail! Finally, I was able to get the angle just right, and I made the collar – so to speak.




Applying the duct tape...

Almost there...

Got it!

The ironic thing was that later that night, at another event where I was only providing entertainment, a child lost their balloon and was in tears. The problem was, I had no balloon to retrieve the escapee… Hmm… Conundrum… What to do? Do I ignore the inconsolable child weeping in the corner, or do I leap into action? I leapt onto the table and snagged the dangling string with a roll of plastic tablecloth with more duct tape on the end. There were cheers! I felt like a fireman must feel when he rescues Mr. Tibbles from a tree: elated. Tears were dried, and the smile on the little girl’s face as we tied the balloon securely to her wrist was worth a thousand bucks. I was a hero!

Hey… Maybe those balloons aren’t so bad after all. Did I say hate? I mean, I LOVE balloons!