blog

Humor in E-Flat Alto

June 11, 2017 By Elaine Ambrose

Mr. Webster, the Wendell, Idaho Elementary School band instructor, lowered his baton and glared at me. I held my E-flat alto saxophone like a barrier between us and immediately regretted blaring a series of offensive noises from my instrument while he was struggling to teach us a John Philip Sousa march.

“You’re not funny, Elaine,” the exasperated teacher said to me in front of the other students.

I knew not to say anything in return, a fact acquired from far too many trips to the Principal’s Office to atone for my disruptive behavior in class. But I thought to myself, “Well, yes I am.”

One of the reasons I didn’t pursue a career in education is because I didn’t want to teach students who behaved as I did. I’m still apologizing to former teachers and school administrators, and I’m a bit nervous that a few of my granddaughters seem to have inherited my spunky spirit. Fortunately, I chose to major in journalism and started to write stories, tall tales, jokes, and irreverent anecdotes. I’ve perfected that talent over the past fifty years.

I thought of Mr. Webster June 10 when I received an award at the annual conference of the National Society of Newspaper Columnists in Manchester, New Hampshire. The second-place honor was for my humorous essays on The Huffington Post. It’s been fun to write more than 150 articles for the HuffPo, and some of them have gone viral. I celebrated on stage and enjoyed talking with Maureen Dowd, Pulitzer Prize winning opinion writer for The New York Times.

“Wish you were here to see this, Mr. Webster,” I thought, faking an impromptu performance on an air saxophone. Maturity continues to elude me.

Proving that women over age 50 are desperate to laugh, the humor award follows another notable writing award. My latest book, Midlife Happy Hour, recently won First Place in the Independent Press Award for Midlife and was chosen “Distinguished Favorite” for Humor. I’m beyond midlife unless I live past 120, but I’m still writing and telling stories, even though sometimes my shirt is on backwards, I forget how to spell chaos, and I wear dark glasses and a trench coat in the store to buy bulk quantities of stool softener.

Joy seems to be balanced by sorrow, and the awards came during a time of emotional pain because my younger brother George died from cancer two weeks ago. He was funny and creative, and almost as obnoxious in school as I was. I intend to live every day with a sense of passion to help make up for the time he didn’t get. Now that my parents and brother are gone, there is no one left to call and say, “Look! I’m not a loser any more!”

The winning essays on The Huffington Post included my satire about my possessed friends turning into hysterical animals after the recent presidential election and the bittersweet reality of taking away my ailing mother’s car keys. They won for “Category G: Humor – Online, Blog and Multimedia Columns Over 50,000 Monthly Unique Visitors.”

The NSNC conference brought together friends I had met at the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop in Dayton, Ohio, including Molly Stevens, Lee Gaitan, Gina Barreca, Jim Hands, and Leighann Lord. Now I have new best friends including Norine Dworkin-McDaniel and Jessica Leigh Lebos. I encourage women to attend writing conferences not only to improve their talents but to meet others who are traveling on similar paths. We may only see each other once a year, but we’re as close as an email or social media post.

My friends and family continue to provide excellent material for my books and blogs, and I hope they inspire me for another decade. When I begin to get tired, I’ll play some John Philip Sousa marches and strike up one more song for the band, one more tall tale for the blog, and one more anecdote for the book. I’m not done yet. Maybe somewhere an old music teacher named Mr. Webster is sitting in a retirement home reading my blogs. I hope he smiles.

Oh Say, Can You See?

June 8, 2017 By Elaine Ambrose

At the twilight’s last gleaming, I finally arrived in Manchester, New Hampshire for the annual conference of the National Society of Newspaper Columnists. The journey from Eagle, Idaho covered 2,400 miles in 10 hours and almost reached from sea to shining sea. Throughout the day, I read news of the latest political hysteria from the nation’s capital and relished my detachment at 30,000 feet.

Finally in my hotel room, I opened the windows and saw the United States flag, flying proudly, as a strong reminder that despite all the ridiculous rhetoric and divisive sabotage among inept leaders on both sides, biased and corrupt reporting from some of the media, and bombastic accusations from a volatile public, somehow we remain in the land of the free and the home of the brave.

American author and storyteller Mark Twain once said, “Loyalty to country ALWAYS. Loyalty to government, when it deserves it.”

In my opinion, some of our government leaders are incompetent and don’t deserve our respect, but our country offers the best design through our brilliant and incomparable Constitution. We’re hanging on by the threads of the broad stripes and bright stars through a perilous fight, and if the Constitution is discounted, the red rockets’ red glare and bombs bursting in air will come from outside oppressors and internal anarchists that easily divide our country with the goal of defeating and destroying the United States of America.

In 1804, political grievances didn’t take years to resolve. Aaron Burr, the Vice President of the United States, and Alexander Hamilton, the former Secretary of the Treasury, resolved their differences through a duel with pistols. Hamilton lost. I’m not suggesting that politicians should shoot each other, but maybe they all could be transported to a private island stocked with treasure chests full of gold and booze. The country would get along just fine. Citizens who didn’t vote or couldn’t describe the Constitution would be sent to the island to forage with the politicians. Imagine a combination of The Hunger Games meets Survivor on Gilligan’s Island.

The gallantly streaming flag once flying with defiance over the ramparts will fall forever if we don’t stop the heated arguments, incessant bitching, public condescension, and vile vitriol. We are better than this. I don’t give a rat’s ass if you hate or love the current president. I want to know what you are doing to improve the current crisis in our country. Someday this president will leave office, just as his predecessors did, all with varying degrees of success. Then what? Should we continue to scream in the streets, destroy property, hate our neighbors, and unfriend our friends while wearing offensive costumes, or should we take up the flag and join other patriots to salvage any hope for another July 4^th celebration? I wish to remain positive and will order some piccolos and drums.

I’ll wake in the morning and open the windows in anticipation of seeing Old Glory, with proof through the night that our flag is still there. That star-spangled banner will wave back.

For a free reminder, here is the first verse of our National Anthem, The Star-Spangled Banner by Francis Scott Key:

O say can you see, by the dawn’s early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming,
Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight,
O’er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets’ red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there;
O say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

Free Digital Copy of “Midlife Happy Hour” for Listeners of the Midlife Recharge Summit

May 31, 2017 By Elaine Ambrose

midlife recharge summit

Author Elaine Ambrose will be interviewed by Celeste Stacey, host of the Midlife Recharge Summit, for the national summit presented on Friday, August 4, 2017. Elaine will talk about how women over age 50 can use their talents to work with younger women and be mentors to them.

For listeners of the program, Ambrose will offer a free eBook (a value of $9.95) or a free audiobook (a value of $13.97) of her award-winning book Midlife Happy Hour. Email her at: [email protected] and write “Free Gift” in the subject line. Be sure to indicate eBook or Audiobook. This offer expires on August 31, 2017.

Midlife Happy Hour – Our Reward for Surviving Careers, Kids, and Chaos describes the author’s journey to reinvent herself after age 50. The book is a Finalist for Foreword INDIES Book of the Year for Humor, a #1 Bestseller on Kindle, and it received a 5-Star Review from Foreword Clarion Reviews. It’s the winner of 2017 Independent Press Award for Midlife and was recently named a “Distinguished Favorite” for Humor from the 2017 Independent Press Awards.

In the book, Elaine Ambrose boldly writes her latest kiss-my-attitude book as a sassy sequel to Midlife Cabernet. Ambrose shares her festive life experiences and career-crushing anecdotes as she explains how to remain relevant after age 50, why grown children make great travel companions, and how to balance midlife without falling over. Ambrose notes that her feminine mystique sprung a leak after years of competing as a funny female in a serious male job market. Now the hard work is done, and she invites midlife women to join her for Happy Hour.

The Good Brother

May 30, 2017 By Elaine Ambrose

My brother George Ambrose died yesterday. His health had been declining, so my husband Ken and I drove 130 miles to Twin Falls, Idaho, to meet him at a restaurant overlooking the Snake River Canyon; a fixture from our childhood. He told funny stories, we drank wine, and we helped him to his pickup. He drove home and died a few hours later.

My usual response to pain is to crack jokes. After I learned of his passing, I asked, “But he ordered the house wine!”

He could have ordered top shelf anything, but he wasn’t like that. As much as we were similar in our ability to tell stories, sing, laugh, and savor good food, we were different because he was a humble, quiet man. My obnoxious public antics often embarrassed him, but we remained close in spirit if not in proximity.

Because he can’t stop me now, I’m going to write about him so others can appreciate his goodness. He was a talented artist. The drawing above was done when my older brother left home and shows my mother sobbing as she holds Little George’s hand while he’s grinning. My father plays a fiddle on top of one of his 18-wheel trucks. At the time, my father also owned about 6,000 hogs, hence the use of pigs in the artwork. (I’m not in the picture, but that’s for the memoir.)

George wasn’t encouraged to pursue his love of art because he was needed to help run the trucking company after he graduated from college. George also loved to sing; another passion that was discounted in the family work ethic requirements. He and I both were members of the Vandaleer Concert Choir at the University of Idaho. The Vandaleers only traveled on two tours outside the United States. I went with the choir to Europe, and five years later he traveled with the choir when it toured South America. I have a favorite photo that shows him adjusting my academic chords before graduation. He threatened to strangle me if I didn’t hold still.

Another memory is when were performed in the talent show at school. I was in high school and he was in junior high. I performed an original poem titled, “My Mommy Spanked My Bottom.” He did a reading of “The Cremation of Sam McGee” by Robert Service. We won First and Second Place, which caused criticism from the town folk who thought we hogged the awards. The Robert Service poem continues to be popular in folklore and poetry. My poem, not so much.

One fun adventure with George and Marti, his wife of 30 years, was when they took Ken and me to Jackpot, Nevada to see the comedy show performed by “Larry, the Cable Guy.” I laughed and snorted for two hours. I recommend that to anyone.

My father’s health deteriorated when George was in his mid-twenties, and George took over most of the daily duties of the trucking company and the farms. After my dad died in 1989, George became the owner of Montana Express. For relaxation, he loved to fly his small plane, and continued flying until he could no longer pass the physical test. On the day he died, a friend took George and Marti flying one last time. The altitude change was bad for his health, but he went anyway. Then he drove to Twin to meet us at the restaurant.

I had no idea that was the last time I would see him. We talked about arranging a family get-together at a restaurant in Hagerman. He nodded. But, there was something in his eyes. I couldn’t stop staring at them. There was a glow that saw something beyond me that I couldn’t see. Now I believe he was making the transition to another realm, and to be included in that moment, I am honored and humbled. (Ha! He would love that!) At his request, there won’t be a funeral.

My father died at age 60. George was 61. I’ve outlived both and am getting nervous. I’m motivated to enjoy every day and will try to avoid crabby people, create some laughter, and hug my family. I treasure the memories of George, and I promise to live better. I probably won’t become as humble as he was, but I’ll try. God speed, Little Brother. Follow the light.

Midlife Happy Hour Continues the Party

May 27, 2017 By Elaine Ambrose

midlife happy hour cover amazon

Midlife Happy Hour – Our Reward for Surviving Careers, Kids, and Chaos just ordered another round of laughter to celebrate some good news. Here are four recent accolades for the book:

The Independent Press Award recently announced the 2017 winners, and Midlife Happy Hour

won Gold for best book in the Midlife Category. The book also was selected as a “Distinguished Favorite” in the Humor Category.

The book also is a finalist for Foreword INDIES 2016 Book of the Year in the Humor Category. Final winners will be announced in June.

Foreword Reviews awarded Midlife Happy Hour a rare 5-Star Review, and noted that, “Ambrose’s work is funny, irreverent, and refreshing, and her advice is spot-on.” Here is the entire review:

Midlife Happy Hour

Our Reward for Surviving Careers, Kids, and Chaos

Reviewed by Catherine Thureson
April 27, 2017

Ambrose’s work is funny, irreverent, and refreshing, and her advice is spot-on.

Elaine Ambrose’s Midlife Happy Hour is a humorous look at the life of a small-town farmer’s daughter who did not conform to the expectations of society or her family. Ambrose shares her story without apologies or regrets. In between the book’s funniest moments, she relates life lessons learned along the way.

The joys and perils of midlife are equally celebrated in this very funny book, whose author laughs her way through a wide variety of topics—from growing up in an age when women were expected to fill a very narrow role to fighting for career successes in the male-dominated corporate world. Ambrose recalls raising kids, growing older, and staying passionate about life.

Each chapter covers a different topic and can easily be read as a stand-alone essay. This makes the book very easy to enjoy in small sips, each as rich and enjoyable as the Cabernet the author is so fond of. It’s filled with laugh-out-loud moments and insights that can only come from someone who has lived a full life with plenty of ups and downs along the way.

The author has a wonderful sense of humor that makes even dark subjects, like the death of her mother, read lightly. She does not flinch from sharing her own embarrassments, such as a particularly harrowing experience trying to use the toilet in a fringe-covered dress. Each story is genuine and relatable.

In addition to its humor, the book is full of insights on how to get through life, advising women to take risks, avoid negativity, and enjoy relationships. Its best advice: “‘Keep laughing … That’s how we survive.’”

At times, Ambrose’s viewpoint does narrow, such as when she discusses grown children moving back home. She sees this as a problem, and doesn’t seem to consider the difficult circumstances that may contribute. Such moments are momentarily off-putting, but the tone of the work is not generally judgmental, and Ambrose aims her occasionally sharp pen at herself far more than at anyone else. Her views are her own, and, true to the message of the book, she is unafraid of expressing them.

Midlife Happy Hour is intended for audiences of sympathetic middle-aged women, those who are done raising families and struggling in their careers, by whom the author’s authentic voice stands to be embraced. Ambrose’s work is funny, irreverent, and refreshing, and her advice is spot-on.

Granny Goes to Bottlerock

May 27, 2017 By Elaine Ambrose

bottlerock adam levine 1

To celebrate my 65th summer, I released my inner rock diva and joined 100,000 people at Bottlerock in Napa, California. The three-day event featured 85 bands including Maroon 5 and Tom Petty performing on multiple stages, culinary stage artists such as Martha Stewart, and more than 100 food and beverage vendors. I enjoyed most of them.

It was easy for me to go incognito because no one noticed a chubby grandmother from Idaho. To bolster my self-confident solo act, I removed the toothpick from my mouth and brushed the hay from my hair and pretended to be an eccentric, international talent scout. By the afternoon, I had transformed into a mysterious countess from a distant realm.

Wine country can be inspirational in many ways, and I had planned a trip to Napa so I could concentrate on writing my memoir. I stayed at my timeshare resort and wrote about 6,000 words before needing a break. I decided to spend Friday at Bottlerock, and the experience didn’t disappoint.

Here are some observations about the sensory feast at Bottlerock:

bottlerock seating eating

The sounds mingled the elegance of a symphonic quartet with a raucous hootenanny serenaded by screaming cats. Music is intoxicating for all ages, and I enjoyed the various rhythms, instruments, and singers prancing about the various stages. (Except for Rap. Rap makes me want to destroy something with a chainsaw.) With dozens of acts blaring simultaneously, the sounds reminded me of a long vacation drive with my kids when they were young. My new favorite band is Saint Motel, and their spirited, technical sounds momentarily inspired me to dye my hair fuchsia, get a tattoo, and climb aboard their tour bus. Common sense prevailed the next day.

bottlerock saint motel

Sights ranged from amusing to horrifying. Many women at Bottlerock prefered to avoid the hassle of selecting fetching outfits because they didn’t wear a lot of clothes. Tank tops, ripped jeans, and teeny party dresses were in abundance on most females under 30. A few stripper outfits would have resulted in arrests back in Idaho. I attracted no jealous stares in my sensible cargo pants, t-shirt, practical hat, and Teva sandals.

bottlerock hazelnut binet

Tasting Bottlerock is a culinary extravaganza. For market research purposes, I buried my face in a paper bowl full of chocolate hazelnut beignets from Ca’ Momi organic Italian restaurant. It was organic so it must have been healthy. I washed down the gooey mess with a $25 glass of Silver Oak Cabernet. I reminded myself that I’m 65 and many people don’t make it to 65 so it was my duty to enjoy the opportunity. The next glass was appropriately less expensive. I didn’t have time or desire to try the duck or lamb tacos.

The smells of Bottlerock were what you would expect when tens of thousands of people come together to dance in the sunshine. Flowering plants released natural perfume combined with whiffs of pot, smoked barbecue, and a few dirty diapers. I hid my nose in several glasses of full-bodied Cabernet and the aromas were delightful.

bottlerock wine

To feel Bottlerock, a person only had to stand close to the stage and brace for the crush of thousands of warm bodies pressing closer to see and hear the next act. I experienced several close encounters from another dimension, but again, no one wanted to offend a silly grandmother. I stood my ground and didn’t let the pushy whippersnappers take my place. I think they were taking bets on when I would need a nap or start to drool.

bottlerock crowd

Bottlerock reminds me of other venues that I only need to attend once, such as Disneyland on a holiday or the county fair on any day. In the immortal words of Mae West, you only live once but if you do it right, once is enough.

Back at my hotel room, I congratulated myself on maneuvering the logistics to get to and from the venue. My brain still worked after all! Then I pulled on my Grammy Jammie’s, slathered my weathered but happy face with ointment, and crashed into bed. I dreamed I was a rock star.

bottlerock adam levine 2

blog

Midlife Happy Hour

Our Reward for Surviving Careers, Kids, and Chaos

Footer

Awards

Badges

Awards