My Fifteen Minutes of Fame

Everyone is supposed to get their fifteen minutes of fame.

I figure if I squinch all mine together I have already used mine up.

For your entertainment pleasure, I wish to list them in chronological order.

I'll wait till you get your popcorn.

Now, I won't mention my birth, being the modest person that I am. Although I'm pretty sure it made the papers.

Shortly thereafter, though, I was the first baby to ever be enrolled on the Cradle Roll at the First Baptist Church. That is pretty amazing.

I taught Bob how to walk, even though I was only a year old. He was three months younger than I (still is, actually) and he wanted to pull my  hair so badly, he walked after me.

I said a lot of adorable and cute things that mesmerized my parents, both sets of grandparents and one set of great-grandparents. Most babies can't do that.

My first grade teacher's birthday was the same day as mine. Wow.

I was robbed at seven. Someone stole my little purse because they had  heard I had lost a tooth during reading. It was true. I guess the dirty rotten thief though they could fool the Tooth Fairy.

I quit school at age eight. See previous blog.

At nine, I was going to be in a ballet recital. My tutu and multi-colored feather duster had already arrived. We had practiced till our little toes were exhausted. The song was "Frenchie, the Little French Maid." We were to sing as we danced. I still remember the first line to the song, which is "I'm Frenchie, the little French Maid, ladadadalada." Pretty racy for a bunch of nine year olds.

Our teacher ran her car under a transfer truck the week before the recital and broke her neck. She survived, but the ballet recital did not.

I sang my first solo at age fourteen. No one knew I could sing at all, so when I woke everyone up at the children's Christmas concert by trilling "Gesu Bambino", it was pretty thrilling. For me, anyway.

In high school I was on the six o'clock news. Our "Found Generation" singing group sang at one of the malls in the metro area and the local newsman came and talked to us and filmed us. When they showed me singing a solo, t here was a voice over telling about us. So much for, you know, actually hearing me sing.

I was on the six o'clock news again in my twenties. I worked at the state capital and they were filming our work area because when one of the machines had been pulled out for repair, giant (and I do mean screaming, climbing on  your chair giant) cockroaches crawled out. That's what they were saying when they showed me at my desk.

After my first book came out we were eating at a restaurant and a starry eyed teenage girl asked if I'd written a book. I admitted t'was I. Then she waxed poetic about how wonderful the book was. After we sat down, I tried to figure out how she knew I was the author. That book did not have a picture of me anywhere. My husband went back and asked. "Oh," she said. "It's because she is Anna Kate's mother."  Well, that's who I always am, Daughter's mother or Husband's wife, or Mother's daughter. Take your pick.

But here are my three greatest moments:

Getting a phone call wanting to purchase my book because they wanted the perfect gift for a woman's birthday. You see, she was turning one hundred years old and still read and wanted my book. She read it too!

Being at a Vacation  Bible School assembly and caring for a blind girl while her guardian left for a moment. When we began to sing, she leaned into me, listening intently. I pointed my voice toward her until we finished. As soon as the song was up, she looked anxious and said she had to go to the bathroom, right now! As I started out to the aisle, her guardian showed back up and rushed her off. But the little girl had waited too late, and she had to put on dry clothes. When scolded, she said, "But I couldn't stop listening. She had the voice of an angel." I get tears in my eyes when I type this.

And lastly, when I went back to check on sales at a store, the lady told me some little boy had come in and asked about my books. He was alone. He picked out a book, purchased it, and left. They were astounded that some kid would come in alone and buy my book.

Me too.

Pretty amazing fifteen minutes, huh?