Hello, glad you could stop by. With Mother’s Day coming up in a couple of weeks, I thought I would pass along some fun thoughts about this special day – as I remember them from the past.
Celebrating Mother’s Day is a good thing. But, like Christmas, New Year’s Eve and anniversaries, things don’t always fall together as they should.
Mother’s Day is wearing. Some mothers can’t sustain “wonderfulness” longer than two or three hours at the most. So, timing is important. Mothers need to open their gifts early and move right on to brunch before someone gets cross and loses the spirit of the occasion.
For some mothers, the day can be overwhelming. It is frightening to wake up one Sunday morning in May and find your “mom act” has become an overnight success when you’ve just spent the last 364 days living in obscurity (car pools, or whereever,) struggling to be recognized, spoken to, loved, cherished or acknowledged in some little way.
Fortunately, mothers are easy – they rarely ever bear grudges and they adjust quickly to adulation.
There are, however, a few Mother’s Day gestures that they could live without, and since most mothers are too saintly to mention them to their families – I will.
1) Don’t even think about a corsage must less send her one. A dozen red roses wouldn’t be too shabby.
2) Don’t serve her pancakes and syrup in bed on a warped tray.
3) Don’t take her out to eat in a restaurant where she has to stand in a line that wraps around two city blocks, (she will gladly forfeit the free geranium.)
4) Don’t take her picture before she is ready.
5) Don’t give her a monogrammed grass catcher, sweat bands that fade, another punch bowl, candy that costs more than her shoes, licorice-scented soap, a whistling coffee pot, an umbrella smarter than she is, scented hose, jumper cables, an awning for the bird feeder, snow tires or anything digital named after a fruit.
Movinig on to some behind the scenes tidbits not mentioned in my weekly SOCIAL SCENE Sunday column.
The 2009 Symphony Show House at 431 NW 17th Street, which runs through May 17, is sponsored by the Oklahoma City Orchestra League and benefits the Music Education Programs and the Oklahoma City Philharmonic Orchestra.
Currently the house, which is for sale, is owned by John and Denise Bode. Former owners include Walter D. Caldwell who built the house in 1918, E. W. Marland, Mr. and Mrs. William Veazey, Mr. and Mrs. Grant Pengilly, Mr. and Mrs. Kee McKee, Mr. and Mrs. Clarence Trosper, Mr. and Mrs. George Bettis, Mr. and Mrs. Byron Dawson and Dr. and Mrs. Grover Harrison.
The Show House Gala heralding the opening of the home, was held in the Great Banking Hall at First National Center last week. Since the house was built in the era of Prohibition, the evening was themed around that period with the drinks, food and music.
Underwriters of the evening were Michael and Amy Dunn, Jose Freede, Dick and Jeanette Sias-Joullian Wines and Glenna and Richard Tanenbaum.
Benefactors were LaDonna and Herman Meinders.
Sponsors were BancFirst, Ralph L. Harvey, Molly and Jim Crawley, Polly and Larry Nichols and Paul and Debby Dudman – Sterling Wines and Spirits.
Hello. Glad you could stop by. Hope this read brightens your day.
As I see it, the biggest question facing our nation on down the line, is whether or not we ’re ready to accept a “First Gentleman” in the White House (and if he’s not a gentleman, then what?)
Sooner or later some smart women is going to surface, (whose husband thought she was running for City Council just so she could push through a campaign to replace the old seats on the park swings,) and get herself elected President. Boy will her husband be in for a surprise the first time he goes with the boys for a night out and finds they’re her Secret Service agents.
Just getting a husband through his wife’s inauguration would be a toughie. If her swearing in ceremony takes more than eight minutes, he’ll start checking his text messages or looking around for the nearest TV.
Chances are he’ll forget to get a haircut the day before the inaugural ball, and, if someone doesn’t check him out, he’ll show up wearing his tuxedo with pair of brown shoes.
Can you imagine the First Gentleman offering to plan the state dinners for visiting foreign dignitaries. Heaven help ‘em if he decides to cook out. By the time he finally gets the coals to burn, diplomatic relations could be broken off forever and half the cabinet members laid out cold under the picnic tables, stoned on bug spray.
Or, if he decides to use the formal dining room, I can see the duck decoy centerpieces and napkins stuck in empty shot gun shells, sitting by the dinner plates. You know what the seating arrangements will be. The men will be sitting at tables on one end of the room and the women at the other. And, when he picks up the salt shaker and finds it empty, you know who he’ll blame for that oversight - THE PRESIDENT.
Of course he’ll need a social secretary. Hopefully no one named “Trixie.” If she shows up, the President might have to intercede and assign a driver from the army motor pool.
Somebody will have to help him with his clothes. Color coordinate his ties with his shirts, his shoelaces with his shoes and suggest (suggest nothing, they’ll have to come right out and tell him,) he can no longer be seen standing on the helicopter pad wearing a “Doug’s Barbecue” bowling shirt.
Press interviews could be tricky too. A good PR man should be by his side at all times. The first time the President’s husband goes into a press conference and mentions his wife’s age, the name of her hormones, her inability to balance a checkbook, or her hair color, he’s going to find his clothes moved permanently into the Lincoln bedroom (and how, I wonder, would the press secretary explain THAT to the little old ladies from Peoria.)
You’ll see a few changes made on the grounds of the mansion, too. Hammocks in the rose garden, railroad tires outlining the flower beds, a trout pond on the east lawn and a spiget with a spray hose installed under the North Portico for the first gentleman’s convenience when he washes and hot waxes his A C Cobra.
Looking on the bright side. Having a First Gentleman in the white House could mean a sign of progress.
Think about it. When would a woman ever have this much power to shame her husband into sleeping in pajamas!
Fundraiser events come in all sizes and shapes. One of the really fun ones recently which drew a crowd of more than 450 at Oklahoma City Golf and Country Club, was the Integris Foundations Circle of Friends Gala. A 50th anniversary celebration of Integris Baptist Medical Center, the party bash featured Jim Belushi (yes, brother of the deceased John Belushi,) and The Sacred Hearts.
Belushi energized the crowd, dancing with guests on the dance floor and enticing others onstage to dance with him. The crowd was singing along and boogeying to the beat, but the floor was so crowded they couldn’t do much more than dance in place. Some of the crowd even formed congo lines. Needless to say it was a stellar evening for many reasons.
Young dancers from Western Village Academy performed, bringing a standing ovation from the crowd.
This 50th anniversary celeration raised $318,000. Integris Baptist Medical Center (formerly known s Baptist Hospital) was first considered the “hospital on the hill’ when it opened its doors on Easter Sunday 1959 as a 200-bed hospital. It was the vision of the leaders of the Baptist General Convention of Oklahoma to bring a Baptist hospital to the state’s capital city. Back then, open prairie and few home surrounded the new hospital.
The Gala Committee was composed of Sherry Bennett, Marilyn Bethea, Peggy Collins, Judith Duffy, Fran Grounds, Norma Harris, Laurie Heigle, Margaret Henry, Cheryl Hewett, Lori Hill, Sally Hood, Lynn Horton, Suzie Hupfeld, Barbara Jett, Jenny Kallenberger, Donna Lawrence, Elaine Levy, Ursula Lewis, Tami Loch, Mary Pat Love, Patti Mellow, Donna Parker, Beth Pauchnik, Rebecca Perkins, Lois Salmeron, Amelia Silverstein, Karen Swyden, Alison Taylor, Jane Thompson and Kathi White.
Hello! Thanks for stopping by for a little fun read.
Forget the body piercings, tattoos and spiky hair dos. It’s the cell phones that are driving me crazy. You know, the appendages growing out of everyone’s ears that come in psychedelic colors and glow in the dark.
I’m surprised we don’t see more cell phone rage. Like the passengers on an airline who grabbed a man’s cell phone and took turns stomping it to death.
The last time I missed a flight and had to take up temporary residence in a terminal, I sat next to one of these obsessive cell talkers who was graphically explaining how a truckload of cow manure was delayed and had gotten too warm sitting in the sun. I wanted to reach over and jerk his ear plug out and lace the cord through the eyes of his shoe.
Some of these electronic compulsives are so out of control they no longer live in the real world. I, for one, don’t believe some of these nerds actually have someone on the other end of the line. Think about it, how many friends can they have? Their phone activity is non stop and they don’t even take time to change clothes.
Just the other day I spotted a window washer twelve stories up holding a cell phone to his ear. Okay, I had binoculars, but I saw him.
Some of the worst offenders hang out in restaurants. The wife is on the phone telling someone about a shoe sale while her husband just sits there like a dummy waiting on the food to be served.
Then there are the cell shouters. All their friends have a hearing problem. If you’re seated next to one you might as well ask to be moved to another table because it doesn’t get any better.
Rest rooms are no longer private either. There is nothing more embarrassing than answering someone in the next stall before you realize they’re not talking to you – they’re talking on the phone! Admit it. You’ve answered at least one of ‘em.
Grocery shoppers are the pathetic ones. Men no longer trust their grocery lists. You see them on the phone as they wander down the aisles calling out the brand names on all the cans. By the time they reach the cantaloupes their insecurity kicks into overdirve. Their spouses try to step them through the squeeze, smell routine but they don’t have a clue what a fresh one looks like. So they move on to the mangos and go through the whole routine again.
Drivers have to be the most annoying. If you’re stopped behind one of these compulsive talkers at a stop light, you can count on sitting through at least three light changes before the driver looks up and notices the light has turned green.
Surely there is a way to stop this onslaught of phone verbiage.
The media could put the word out that cell phones cause male baldness.
As for the women, CELLULITE would be a good buzz word.
Last week was a busy one for fund raising events. Early figures indicate they were successful, which goes to prove Oklahoma City’s philanthropy is alive and well.
Here are a couple of examples:
Oklahoma City Beautiful’s 26th Distnguished Service Awards Luncheon netted approximately $45,000. The event recognizes those in the community that help make Oklahoma City beautiful through various types of beautification and community improvement projects.
The First Ladies Gala benefit for the Oklahoma Medical Research Foundation raised a net total of approximately $230.000.
First Ladies Kim Henry, Cathy Keating, Rhonda Walters, Donna Nigh, Molly Boren and Ann Bartlett hosted the black-tie event at the National Cowboy & Western Heritage Museum.