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Going Solo on the Gratitude Cruise

January 27, 2016 By Elaine Ambrose

Feeling guilty because your Thanksgiving experience never resembles the Norman Rockwell painting of a happy family gathered around a lovely table as Grandma in her white apron proudly delivers a perfect turkey?

Does your feast often include a drunk uncle, at least one pouting teenager, grandpa blowing his nose on the fine linen, a power outage, gag-inducing gravy, cousins chasing each other with the electric carving knife, a devil-nephew cramming olive pits up his nose, and a quarrel between some adults who should be sitting at the children’s table? Maybe it’s time to put down the drumsticks and the shotguns and just relax. If you get to midnight on Thanksgiving without a single drama, count your blessings and multiply by ten.

We should go over the river, through the woods, and keep on going just to avoid all the glossy images, trite platitudes, and impossible expectations about this holiday. Forget Rockwell’s famous portrait because most grandmothers don’t wear white aprons after fixing a messy meal, and there’s a good chance this year they’ll introduce their new boyfriends instead of picture-perfect platters of browned butterballs. And Martha Stewart is not coming over, so forget the hand-painted place mats and pilgrim-shaped gelatin molds.

After a few decades, seasoned women ease up on the stressful requirements and have no qualms about using prepared gravy mixes, boxed stuffing, and leftover Halloween napkins. As long as the turkey is done and the wine is open, we’re just fine. My mother’s generation washed Thanksgiving dishes until their hands turned numb while the menfolk watched TV, smoked, and farted. My daughter’s generation finds both men and women working together in the kitchen. I’m thankful that I’ve lived long enough to witness such profound progress.

Most of us have survived at least one holiday during a painful, pivotal time in our lives. For me, Thanksgiving provided a poignant perspective a few years ago when I was a middle-aged divorcee and it seemed that everyone in the entire world was part of a happy, loving, and thankful couple. I survived the holiday for two reasons: I never miss a good meal, and I was determined to show gratitude. The second reason was more challenging than the first. I tackled the dilemma by doing something completely spontaneous: That Thanksgiving I booked a reservation for a cruise the following March to Costa Rica, Panama, and Cozumel.

The cruise was called, ironically, the Gratitude Cruise. I found the information while researching one of my favorite speakers, Dr. Sue Morter. I previously had attended her International Living Seminar as part of a business conference. She is a healer and a teacher, and she focuses on the connections between the mind, the body, and the spirit. I know this sounds way too new-age for my old-age sensibilities, but when you hit bottom you look for the light. Any light.

I went on the cruise by myself. During the week, the programs included music and workshops about inner peace, meditation, acceptance, resilience, and, most important, gratitude. For the first time in my life, I was truly alone and didn’t know anyone. After wallowing in the negative emotions associated with my divorce, the positive messages from the sessions were the antidote to the poison that consumed my thoughts. I discovered that I enjoyed myself as a travel companion.

I returned renewed, refreshed, and ready to live out loud with an attitude of gratitude. A few months after I booked the cruise, I met my future and last lover. Thank you, Universe. I’m grateful.

Published on The Huffington Post December 14, 2015

My Fish Won’t Hump Your Leg

January 27, 2016 By Elaine Ambrose

We arrived at our host’s lovely home and exchanged pleasantries as I offered my baked won-ton appetizers. Then the dog attacked. The pony-sized labradoodle bounded into the room and feverishly started to hump my leg with the passion of a sailor on shore leave.

“Why is it masturbating on my white pants?” I asked, trying to remain calm.

“He’s just so friendly,” my laughing hostess proclaimed.

She retrieved the dog and proceeded to nuzzle its face. That’s when I knew it would be a long evening. I walked briskly toward the wine bar, wary of sudden attacks from the horny hound. Once again, Cabernet would get me through the ordeal.

I belong to that rare and happy group of people who don’t have indoor pets. Every day my friends on social media post photos and videos of cats and dogs, and I quickly scroll past these visions because I know that the dog licked its genitals before it licked that sweet baby’s face. I’m particularly bothered by the sight of dogs sleeping with babies, pets in human beds, and cats in clothes. At the risk of being pelted with stale dog biscuits and bitten by animal rights activists, I politely request that pet lovers accept the fact that some of us prefer not to live with hairballs, poop behind the couch, and animal hair in our food.

I’m amused and slightly irritated when people prance about with carriers that hold their precious tiny dogs. Why do they expect me to gush over an animal in a purse? If that little ball of fur could talk, it would say, “Get me out of here so I can go sniff that dog’s butt!”

I grew up on a farm surrounded by fields and pens full of cattle, horses, pigs, a few cats and a dog. None of these animals lived inside our house. The dog provided security by barking at dangerous squirrels and by herding cattle. The cats worked daily as mousers in the barn. Not one of them wore a sweater vest or needed a therapist. We all knew our roles down on the farm, and life was grand.

Pet-less people never have dead mice delivered to their doorstep by a warrior cat or hear the blood-curdling scream of cats in heat. They don’t need to worry about getting a kennel when they travel, and they save money by not buying pet food or dealing with expensive veterinarian bills. Americans spend more than $56 billion annually on pets. We could fix some roads, supply new books to the schools, and build animal sanctuaries with that money.

Caveat: I respect those who need indoor animals for comfort and companionship. And, I’m a firm supporter of service dogs and police canine units. These animals earn their keep and provide an important duty.

I have the perfect pets: fish. My outside pond is full of goldfish and koi. They are beautiful, don’t demand anything, and don’t chew my furniture. Best of all, in the winter they hibernate in the rocks and don’t need anything. I love my fish.

All I ask is for tolerance and acceptance for those of us who don’t think your dog/cat is cute. We love photos of your kids and grandkids, but the puppy in the crib is too much. Unless the child has been raised and suckled by wolves in the forest, the baby doesn’t need to sleep with an animal.

I intend to enjoy my patio and watch my goldfish and koi swim around. You are welcome to visit – without any pets – sip a glass of wine, and offer a toast to my fish. I promise they won’t hump your leg.

(Published on The Huffington Post Aug. 28, 2015)

If Arts Patrons Acted Like Football Fans

January 27, 2016 By Elaine Ambrose

I listened to the growls, shouts and exasperated complaints coming from the menfolk watching an NFL football game, so I waited for a commercial break, strolled into the room, and quietly suggested we watch a musical instead. They grabbed the remote control and glared at me like angry toddlers.”We’re having fun!” they exclaimed. I backed out of the room, properly chastised. They already knew it would be inappropriate and useless to ask me to return with beer and sandwiches. I retreated to my office and closed the door as they hollered about the referee’s questionable ancestry. Their boisterous, emotional investment in the game inspired me to create the following blog post.

What if patrons of musical and artistic productions expressed the same emotions as sports fans?

I can imagine the philharmonic orchestra warming up before the classical performance of Rossini’s William Tell Overture. The concertmaster enters, expecting polite applause, but the audience whistles, cheers, and throws popcorn. The oboist plays the tuning note and the orchestra solemnly responds with their respective instruments. A guy in the back of the concert hall blows an air horn.

“How do you like dem horns?” he hollers, much to the delight of the other spectators.

The conductor enters with great fanfare and bows to the audience. People in the front row wave huge foam batons and chant, “Go, Maestro, Go!” He mounts the podium and raises his arms.

“Touchdown!” someone yells. The crowd guffaws and snorts. Several call for the ushers to throw them a beer.

The music begins and the orchestra performs with controlled passion and splendid talent. Suddenly the first chair violinist accidentally fumbles her bow.

“You missed a note!” someone yells. “It’s right there on the page. How could you miss it?”

Someone stands and yells at the orchestra, “We want an instant replay!”

“Send in the second chair violinist!”

Mayhem ensues until the flamboyant trumpets quiet the crowd with a commanding call to action as the orchestra charges triumphantly into the overture’s Finale.

“Hey, that’s the theme to The Lone Ranger!” someone shouts. “Will he be here for half time?”

“No, that’s the music they played during the orgy scene in the movie A Clockwork Orange. Dude, that was weird!”

Another patron stands and hollers, “Where are the Indiana University pep band and cheerleaders? They perform to this song at every basketball game.”

The Finale ends with a flourish of crashing timpani drums, resounding cymbals, and blaring trumpets. Once again, the guy in the back stands and blasts his air horn. The crowd jumps up and yells “Bravo!” Some excited fans rush to the stage and dump a champagne ice bucket on the conductor’s head as their rowdy mates explode with a cacophony of laughter, belches and farts. The orchestra members run to the dressing rooms.

The media wait patiently for the conductor to emerge for the news conference.

“What do you think about that Prelude?” a concerned reporter asks. “Do you think the five solo cellos gave it all they could?”

The conductor blots his forehead with a silk handkerchief and slowly returns it to the pocket of his long-tailed tuxedo.

“We practiced all week for that section,” he says. “Did you hear how superbly the timpani rolls resembled distant thunder? We couldn’t have done it without the teamwork and dedication of every player performing in unison.”

Another reporter shoves a microphone in front of the conductor. “It is true that you’re about to be replaced by a younger conductor?”

“Goodness gracious, no.” he replies. “The board just renewed my contract, increased my salary $100, and bought me a used Buick. I’m committed to this orchestra!”

Outside the concert hall, a gregarious group of fans meanders to their favorite bar, the “Arts-R-Us Cantina,” to plan their next artistic adventure. Multiple screens are showing various performances from around the world: musicals, dramatic readings, stage plays, several concerts, modern dance ensembles, and a new production from a college Shakespeare Theatre. The fans hoot and cheer after every solo performance and dramatic reading.

“I hear the ballet is opening next weekend,” one exclaims. “They have lots of pretty women dancing around in skimpy dresses.”

“Yes!” another one exclaims. “I read that the show is called Swan Lake. Maybe I’ll bring the huntin’ dogs and my shotgun in case there are some ducks to shoot.”

Conversation turns to their fantasy arts leagues.

“My pianist won Most Valuable Player and is scheduled to perform in the Andy Williams Show at the prestigious Moon River Theater in Branson, Missouri!”

“Wow, you’re lucky! My trombone player fell off a hay truck and broke his arm. He’s out for the season.”

“My understudy actor was moved into the lead position for the next performance!”

“I acquired a painter who finished more projects than any other artist in the entire division!”

“My opera singer secured the lead in The Barber of Seville!”

The entire group stands, raises their fists, and sings, “Figaro. Figaro!”

After the post-concert analysis, these dedicated Fans of the Arts acknowledge the late time on their Salvador Dali melting clocks, wipe the crumbs from their “I Love Bassoons” sweatshirts, don their franchised ballet mufflers, zip their commemorative Mark Twain Lecture Series jackets, and pick up their official Pirates of Penzance pennants.

“See you at the next concerto!” one says.

“Don’t forget the hotdogs and caviar canapés.”

The last one out the door turns off the lights. Wistfully thinking of his hero Charles Dickens, he pronounces his closing soliloquy to an empty room.

“It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.”

He tosses his empty beer can into the garbage, adjusts his private parts, belches, and closes the door. The scene fades to black.

Published on The Huffington Post December 28, 2015

Speaking of Laughter

January 27, 2016 By Elaine Ambrose

“It’s such a busy time of year. I’ve had company for weeks! I finally took my aunt to the airport this morning, but now I’m feeling guilty. Her plane doesn’t leave until next week.”

Rim shot.

I often begin humorous speeches with that joke because it always provokes laughter from the audience. Why? First, people can identify with being busy and dealing with house guests. Second, there is an unexpected twist at the end. You can substitute aunt with mother-in-law, depending upon the strength of your marriage and assuming she’s not in the audience.

No one says, “Oh, you shouldn’t have said that!” The audience knows I’m joking, but they laugh anyway because it’s a funny scenario. After they stop laughing, I immediately add a second image.

“My sweet aunt was sick last year, so I visited her. She was in bed, and as we talked I munched on peanuts in a bowl on her nightstand. I noticed that I had eaten all the peanuts so I offered to buy more. She said, ‘Oh, Elaine, I can’t eat peanuts because they hurt my teeth. I just suck off the chocolate and put them back in the bowl.”

That story also guarantees a laugh. Why? Because the audience can see my aunt sick in bed and feels tender support for my visit. Then the silly image of her sucking off the chocolate hits their funny bone. For added emphasis, I use a southern drawl for my aunt’s voice. It’s all in great fun and causes the group to relax and prepare for my speech. Without a humorous introduction, it would take more time to connect with the listeners.

A well-timed, original joke can be the beginning of a wonderful relationship between a speaker and an audience, and between friends. Caveat: don’t read jokes, and don’t tell them if you’re not comfortable with public speaking. Rehearse the stories out loud so you get the timing and phrasing correct. A well-delivered punch line can be a golden experience as the audience reacts and instantly loves you. Conversely, a dull, lifeless and insecure presentation is painful for everyone. Make sure the joke is not on you.

Next spring I’m packing my finger puppets, best jokes and sensible shoes to travel from Boise, Idaho to Dayton, Ohio and then to Las Vegas, Nevada to speak at two energizing conferences. I’ll incorporate humor throughout my talks, and create stories and anecdotes to enhance the message. Regrettably, now I need to find new opening jokes.

The prestigious Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop is March 31-April 2 in Dayton, Ohio at the University of Dayton where an astute professor once told his student Erma Bombeck, “You can write!” My presentation titled “Write Funny, NOW!” will include quotes from Bombeck’s material and incorporate writing prompts. I’ll also lead a workshop explaining how to turn a blog into a book. Registration for the bi-annual conference sold out in less than six hours.

The BAM-Bloggers at Midlife Conference will be April 15-16, 2016 at the Marriott Las Vegas Resort & Spa and is the first blogging conference focusing on midlife women bloggers. The midlife blogging community, facilitated by Midlife Boulevard, asked for a place where they could get together and learn from each other and from experts. I’ll be speaking on a panel with two other humor writers. Registration remains open for this conference.

Back in Boise, I’ll present a humor writing workshop for the Idaho Writers Guild on Saturday, June 11. At all the presentations, I’ll have finger puppets, new jokes and at least one new book. Apparently, people want and need to be happy. I’ll do my part to facilitate a few chuckles and provoke boisterous laughter because there are too many grouchy people getting all the attention.

For public speaking engagements, I include my three top tips for adding humor to your life:

1. Switch off the news. Balance your intake with funny shows, movies, books and silly friends.

2. Avoid crabby people. Hang out with those who like to laugh.

3. Practice laughter. Read daily positive, humorous affirmations and focus on all the good stories.

Laughter is good for the body and soul. And, a sense of humor provides a great way to make and keep friends. As the American Author and Humorist Mark Twain said, “Humor is the great thing, the saving thing. The minute it crops up, all our irritation and resentments slip away and a sunny spirit takes their place.”

Go forth, cause laughter and enjoy the show.

Published on The Huffington Post December 28, 2015

Bewildered by Buzzwords

January 27, 2016 By Elaine Ambrose

Every day I receive energetic appeals to register for various podcasts, online workshops, and Internet training courses that will save me from a wretched existence of wasted potential. Each request contains similar buzzwords that promise true enlightenment and warn of catastrophic failure if I don’t join, pay, read, or promote various products and services. But what if I don’t want to lean in or define a new paradigm?

After 30 years of professional work I feel empowered to share my version of a creative course that utilizes overexposed buzzwords to motivate the masses. My strategic carnival show will be titled: “Buzzword Bull – How to Maneuver the Barnyard and Avoid the Manure.” To maximize the return on investment and optimize sustainability, I’ll employ guerilla marketing and stand outside my virtual circus tent to seduce prospective clients with my golden barking oratory.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! Step right up and be the first to see the show! You’ll be amazed by the performance, and if you buy today we’ll give you a free bottle of Big Top Stool Softener.” After I convinced people to participate, I would scatter buzzwords and platitudes like popcorn and peanuts.

Synergy. This word predicts a perfect environment of collaboration and interaction. I would draw attention to the lady standing on the galloping horse. That shows synergy, and one mistake by horse or rider could result in tragedy. To succeed in business, don’t stand on a galloping horse.

Risk. Notice the daredevil on the high wire. Can you be so bold? What is your safety net? Do you have an insurance policy? Action items don’t count if you’re dead.

Tenacious Teamwork. See those clowns in the burning building? If they don’t work together to escape in the clown car they’ll become crispy critters. Don’t be like that.

Win-Win Situation. This happens when I take your money and you learn or laugh from my show. This won’t happen for you if I take your money and you gain nothing. I still win.

Think Outside the Box. Am I the only one who thinks this is a stupid term? What does that mean? I don’t think INSIDE a box, so it doesn’t apply to me. If it suggests try something new, just say that.

Measurable Parameters. Don’t intimidate me with four-syllable words. The term “profit or loss” is proven and sufficient. It costs you $5 for a bag of popcorn worth only 10 cents. Again, this sale is a win for me.

Monetize your blog. That phrase sounds more professional but it’s the same as using your blog to sell ads or endorse products and services. I can monetize the production and packaging of a perishable product or sell you some popcorn.

Brainstorm and devise a dialog. A brainstorm reminds me of a hangover, and I’d rather just talk. Devise a dialog? That’s silly talk.

Become a Change Agent. What? Isn’t that what a cashier does when I need to break a twenty?

Total Quality Management. Entire corporations continue to embrace this popular concept. But consider the alternative. No one would advocate Mediocre or Partial Quality Management. The TQM system attempts to reduce errors in manufacturing, streamline management, improve customer relations, and train employees. Shouldn’t successful businesses be doing that anyway?

Buzzwords and motivational quotes have been around for centuries. In 1750, Benjamin Franklin said, “To succeed, jump as quickly at opportunities as you do at conclusions.” That’s good advice that applies today. One of the bestselling business books was written in 1998 by Spencer Johnson, M.D. His book Who Moved My Cheese sold more than 20 million copies and basically advised business people to embrace change because it’s inevitable and you’ll die if you don’t adapt. Not as pithy as Benjamin Franklin, but obviously true.

During my career, I worked for various companies that advocated the buzzword of the day. I was a manager at a Fortune 500 corporation when a bestselling business book asked about the color of your parachute. I will never need a parachute because I don’t intend to jump out of an airplane or off a bridge. Ever. So, I don’t care what color it is. At another job, I rewrote the corporate motto in the Annual Report by removing the phrase “optimize quantitative shareholder value” and substituting the word “profit.” In modern business vernacular, common sense has left the building and retired to a remote island.

Before I allow buzzwords to be the death of me, I must admit that I own several motivational posters and books, and I’ve been a satisfied consumer of podcasts, newsletters, online courses, and Internet workshops. But I don’t need exaggerated hype to attract me. I’m interested in a quality product for a good price.

My next book will be called Who Moved My Cheese Plate? Order today and receive a coupon for a total quality, transformational glass of wine.

Published on The Huffington Post January 18, 2016

Filling George Gobel’s Shoes

January 27, 2016 By Elaine Ambrose

One of the funniest lines every delivered on The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson was in 1969 when four famous men were on the set: Carson, Bob Hope, Dean Martin, and comedian George Gobel. After looking at the three handsome, distinguished men, Gobel said, “Did you ever get the feeling that the world was a tuxedo and you were a pair of brown shoes?”

The audience exploded with laughter, and the scene was included in several anniversary programs. I remember the show, and I miss Johnny Carson.

This week I experienced Gobel’s insecure feelings as a guest on a local television show in Boise, Idaho to discuss the world of blogging. The two lovely co-hosts were gorgeous with exquisite makeup, professionally styled hair, and tailored outfits. The other guest blogger was a young mother who could double for a beautiful fashion model and famous actress. Her name, appropriately, is Brooke. With an E.

I was the fourth one on the set, the Seasoned Older One to balance Young Wonder Woman. In a world of princess gowns, I was a pair of brown flip-flops.

The interview proceeded with a lively exchange between all four of us. Brooke was charming, humorous, and engaging as she detailed the joys and frustrations of beginning a website and blog. Suddenly, she wasn’t so intimidating, and I stopped hating her hair.

Then the host graciously turned to me and mentioned my two national blogging awards. I jumped on the opportunity like a famished lion and explained with great gusto and demonstrative hand gestures how to become a syndicated blogger on sites such as The Huffington Post. The interview ended with a camera shot of three of my books I had strategically placed on the desk. The shine may be off the external chrome, but the engine in the brain still works.

After the television show was taped, we all enjoyed a festive conversation. Brooke was genuinely friendly and asked me for advice on social media, blog content, and how to publish books. I asked her how she managed to start an online business with three small children at home. Due to our pleasant and supportive talk, my George Gobel shoes didn’t seem so ordinary.

I don’t know why older woman are intimidated by younger, polished females. I wouldn’t want to return to my thirties and go through the stress of working in a demanding career, raising children, saving and losing relationships, and maintaining a house full of evolving clutter. Women have much to learn about and from each other, at any age. Instead of being jealous over youthful appearance and vitality, we should celebrate each other more and not be threatened by misconceptions and insecurity. There’s an outside chance the pre-old crowd could think the middle-age group is gloriously free and self-confident. That image is our best reward for dancing around the calendar for so many decades.

It turns out that the beautiful, talented blogger and I have a lot in common. I’m old enough to have a granddaughter named Brooke. With an E.

Published on The Huffington Post January 14, 2016

Going Solo on the Gratitude Cruise

My Fish Won’t Hump Your Leg

If Arts Patrons Acted Like Football Fans

Speaking of Laughter

Bewildered by Buzzwords

Filling George Gobel’s Shoes

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