Weekend to be thankful for!

My Friday, Saturday and Sunday were full of things I am thankful for!

Friday night John and I met our friend Malcom at Buffalo Wild Wings for dinner. He was in town with his school's basketball team. It was great to be able to visit with him. I am thankful for the friends God has placed in my and John's life.

Saturday, my mom's family came to town to help paint my grandmother's house. Nanny couldn't remember the last time that her house was washed, much less painted. So Mom, Dad, Aunt Donna, Kimberly, Kristen, Brett, Ricky, Michael, Skippy, Ed, Blair, Sunny, John and I pitched in, picked up a paintbrush and joined in the fun. I have never laughed so hard in my life. The work was hard, but my most sore part was my tummy from laughing.

I am thankful for my family. It is an amazing thing that we can all come together for two days to paint a house. We all get along. No one stands out. No one fights. No one argues. We smile and laugh and visit and make fun of Mom singing Christmas carols. I am thankful for the amazing memories we are making as a family with my 81 year old grandmother. This is a special time that I will always remember.

Saturday night, we went to Presentation for Hyacinthians and it was announced that I will be a Maid for the 2011 carnival season. I am thankful for the opportunity that was given to me by Freda. It is going to be a great Mardi Gras. Seeing the tears in her eyes was priceless and I am thankful to be a part of her reign as Queen.

Have a great Monday everyone!

Thankful Thursday

Thursday's thankful for is....My friends who blog.

I absolutely L-O-V-E reading what you all are up to, your daily adventures, entering your give-aways (thanks McCall!!) It keeps me endlessly entertained.

I'm sorry today is such a short post. It's actually Friday and I have lots of things on my To Do list at work.

Have a great weekend! I'll be back at some point with my thing I'm thankful for Friday post.

Wednesday, Nov. 17

Since Wednesday was press day, aka Crunch Time x2, I didn't get to blog. In fact, I confess, the blog didn't even cross my mind. Looking back though, I know what I was thankful for yesterday.

My job as editor of Point of Vue Magazine.

Really. I'm not just kissing ass; my bosses don't even know I have a blog.

My job is probably one of the most fun jobs there is in the world. Part of what makes it the best are the people I work with. When the day turns into night and we are all still here, it helps to have people around you that understand you and get you. Stuff can get pretty silly, fast. It helps to be able to laugh at one another.

Also have I mentioned I get paid to do something I really love? How cool is that! I have always enjoyed reading and writing. I always listed it first under Any Hobbies? Never in my wildest dreams would I ever have imagined that it would one day become my job.

I get to be as free and creative as I like. I have a whole space to write an editor's note, that it turns out people love to read. I get to meet and visit with super cool people, and write stories about them. We have an amazing team of freelance writers, columnists and photographers that help make this a cool product.

It has been such a blessing to be involved in the magazine from it's 5th issue, over 3 years ago. Having worked in sales first to help build the magazine up to where it is today...thankful barely begins to describe it. I look forward to the many years to come.

Tuesday, Nov. 16 - small businesses

Ok, so we are going to call this post Tuesday, because even though I paused to think about what I was thankful for...I forgot to blog about it. (It's truly been a crazy week.)

Tuesday, I am thankful for small businesses.

I love small mom and pop stores, where the shop owners know your name, know your shopping style (don't bug me when I'm shopping. I'm a big girl and know what I like. I'll holler if I need help.) and will actually remember to call you when something you like comes in.

On Tuesday, I went to Cherry Books, a locally owned book store in Thibodaux, to get my dad a Christmas present. They regularly host book signings by an impressive amount of local authors. Last week mom and I went to get my Christmas present, Holly Clegg's new cookbook, signed. It's an amazing little place. If you ever get the chance to stop in, please do so. They have a great children's book selection and reading area. Story times are loads of fun too.

Small businesses are definitely the way to go these day. I have made some really good friends shopping locally. And small stores and boutiques will usually fess up about sales and kick some great deals your way. After all, they know their customers!!

Ten days of Thanks

It has occurred to me that there are ten days until Thanksgiving. I thought perhaps it would be fun to do a couple blog posts on what I am thankful for. It's looking like it's going to be an impossibly long and busy week at work and I could use the release.

Monday's No. 1 Thing I'm Thankful For: (and the most obvious) MY FAMILY

I have an amazing family. A fantastic family. A loving and caring until it hurts kind of family.

My Mom- not always my favorite person, but I love her all the same! My mom is a great and classy lady. She is the one that found me 30 years ago, fell in love with me and brought me home. She is the one that put up with my random teenage outbursts and range of emotions. She is the one that taught me to be comfortable with myself. She is the one that gave me a little brother to pick on and love with my whole heart. She is the one I go to and the one I will always trust.

My Dad- like most dads, he was always the worker bee in the family, but he is definitely who I inherited my off-beat sense of humor from. I have learned all my hardest life lessons from him. It is through my dad that I have learned what Faith is. He is the strongest person I know, and always able to calm down this hot head of mine.

My parents have also taught me what it is to love and I will be forever grateful for that.

My brother- My younger brother by 16 months, he is the biggest pest and strongest ally a big sister could ever have. Our childhood was fantastic. Our teenage years even better. You rock, lil bro!
Best of all, you gave me the greatest gift. You allowed me to be an aunt.

Lola- Be still my heart. Lola-bug, you are The. Most. AMAZING. little girl in the world. You are bright, loving, caring, beautiful and, unfortunately for your mother, remind me a little bit of me!
I hope we stay close as you grow and thrive. I love you with my whole heart, bug.

My Tech-Crazed Life

As soon as the morning alarm on my trusty iPhone chirps, my addiction to technology begins. I check my e-mails and log onto Facebook. Yes, before I climb out of bed or brush my teeth, I have already read the morning gossip on my favorite social network. By the time I wake up, most of my friends with little ones have already completed a full morning of activities. I turn on the TV and flip straight to the Today show. I make sure to catch up on the morning’s headlines as I rush to get dressed. My Twitter time usually comes while I wait on the dogs to do their thing before dashing out the door.

From the parking lot of our office, I am “checking in” on Foursquare. I have to keep my check-ins at this location high so I can remain the mayor! From my desk, I get started by opening my e-mail again and logging onto PoV’s Facebook account to approve our daily friend requests. (We ♥ our friends!)

At this point my day is completely taken over by technology and the Internet since most of our freelance writers and photographers communicate through e-mail. During press week for this issue, I actually utilized the headphones that came with my iPhone to be able to talk to people, interview them and type at the same time. Through the introduction of Skype, I can hold meetings at anytime and everyone can still attend.

Our office could literally operate from anywhere with an Internet connection. It’s amazing how far things have come in just the three years of PoV’s existence. We are constantly upgrading and moving forward. I’m lucky enough to work in an office that encourages the use of social media to stay on top of what’s happening in our community and works hard to best equip us to bring you all the stories you love.

And if that means I slip in a little personal time to let you know where I am eating lunch, or what I think a certain football quarterback should name his son (Blair is the best ‘B’ name ever, in case you were wondering), oh well. You are probably sneaking on to Facebook at work to read it anyway!

What would you do?

What would you do?

A simple question, but with such a complicated answer.

I was flipping channels the other night and found myself pausing to watch "Primetime's What Would You Do?" series. The basic run-down of the show is that they hire actors to create scenarios that place on-lookers in the position to either act or just stand-by. The scenarios run the gamut from bullying, to abuse, to drunk driving and more.

The first one that caught my eye was quick to make those same eyes cry. The scenario was an obese, young woman sitting on a bench on a beach boardwalk, reading a book, minding her own business. A group of women her own age walk up, start laughing and pointing and then proceed to call her names and generally make fun of her. It was amazing to see what the general public's response was to this upsetting scene. Overwhelmingly, people stopped and told the young ladies to move along, quit teasing, etcetera. Some originally passed the group up, only to turn around and say something.

I was glued to the show. As you can imagine, thanks to the imaginations of TV writers, the scenarios that were presented to the viewing public just got worse and worse. The show made its intended mark on me. The entire time I watched, I found myself asking, would I stop? Would I help him/her? Would it be safe for me to offer help?

I also began to question the incentive behind the proposed actions. WHY would I choose to help? What is it in a person that makes them want to help another in need? Naturally, the show's producers were always quick to ask that of the people who stopped to help. Mostly, people had no answer. They just stuttered things like, "I don't know. She needed help. So I helped." In some cases, people stopped because they knew someone that had been in that situation or they themselves had been there.

I don't really want to get into the psychology of the issue; I'm sure delving into the human psyche is a much deeper read than you care for, but it is a really fascinating issue. Strangers stopping to help strangers...why? Is it something we are taught to do? Or do we just subconsciously believe in karma? Perhaps we act selfishly, hoping that if the time comes when we need the help of a stranger, one is there and willing.

I can actually say there have been many times where I have offered my assistance to a stranger in need. Looking back, I'm not always sure there was a true motive behind my actions. A time or two I could actually kick myself for offering assistance. "Self, WHAT were you THINKING? You could have been shot! You are a single, young female. ARE YOU STUPID?" But my mouth usually is quick to speak up before my brain has a chance to work through the possible consequences.

There is one instance I would love to recall for you. Picture a young, 17 year old Mary, a freshman at LSU in 1998, stopping to put gas in my car at lunchtime at busy gas station. There was car parked at the pump next to me with a young man and an older man, both dressed in business suits. They had two flats on their very expensive car. The young man was fussing to the older man about his phone being dead and mentioning that they were very late for their meeting. Without missing a beat, I opened my big mouth and offered the use of my phone. The young man declined, replying that were just going to begin walking the several blocks to get to the restaurant where their meeting was being held. Have I mentioned that it was a scorching August day? I immediately insisted that they get in, I was driving them to their destination. The young man glanced at the older man, who by this time was actually beginning to get into my SUV, and agreed that a ride would be wonderful.

Off we went, to the restaurant for the meeting. The young man did use my phone to make a call about their car while the older gentleman actually spoke to me. He explained that they were just in town for the day, for this meeting, and that he really appreciated my kindness. He was from New Orleans and knew that kind strangers are often hard to come by. I replied that I probably should have known better, single girl, all alone, offering a ride to two men? I laughed, mentioning that my dad would probably kill me for offering a ride to strangers. The man laughed with me and said that my dad had obviously raised a smart one, considering I picked up two well-dressed men! We arrived at the restaurant, where they expressed their thanks and got out. The older man walked straight in but the younger man signaled for me to roll down my window. He offered to pay me for me troubles, which I quickly refused. He then handed me a business card and said, "If you even run into trouble in New Orleans, please give Mr. Connick a call."

The silver-haired man I had just chauffeured to Ruth Chris's was none other than Harry Connick, Sr., then district attorney of New Orleans.

September's Vue from the Trenches

Ohhh...ughh...Yes, you heard correctly. Those are the sounds of me growing older. This September I become a member of the 30-year-old club. Yeouch! I can remember when turning 30 seemed so far away. I used to think surely I would turn 30, become an adult and
magically have the secrets of life figured out.

*Fast-forward to present day.*

While I will greet my birthday with happiness and health, while cheering the Saints on to a season-opening victory, life is still a mystery to me. But, oh what a beautiful mystery it is! I love waking every day, never sure what God has in store for me.

We have the honor of sharing with you in PoV this month, the story of Mr. Louis Lee, who on his September birthday will be 100 years young. Suddenly, my turning thirty seems to be just a small milestone when you look at the bigger picture. I only hope to live my life as fully as he has lived his.

August's Vue from the Trenches

In August's issue of PoV Magazine, we ran a feature called "Why Louisiana Matters." I thought I might like to include a bit of that on here.

On April 20, an explosion 40 miles off our coast significantly changed our lives forever. This explosion triggered a man-made disaster that has not only threatened to destroy out coast, but our way of life as well. This oil leak has affected everything from our fishing industry to a vast majority of our jobs to our beach's summer tourism dollars.

Here in Louisiana, we are a fighting people. We are strong, both in our minds and in our will to keep on. Even as outside forces threaten to destroy all that we love about this place we call home, we push on. We fight back. Our people do not hesitate to pick themselves up and continue to forge on.

This month (Aug) we asked Louisianians to tell us why they choose to live and thrive in our great state- why they wake every morning determined to make a living here rather than anywhere else in the world.

We are proud to share with you, "Why Louisiana Matters."

For my note, I wrote the following:

When I was an intern for a local Congressman in Washington D.C., years ago, I remember the first question always asked when meeting someone new in this melting pot of the nation was: “Where are you from?” There was always a certain pride that welled up in me when I responded “Houma, Louisiana! Yes, something exists south of New Orleans!”

Other people were always so fascinated by our area and our culture. From our love of food and music, to the over 85 festivals held annually, to our need to celebrate the smallest of things for weeks at a time, there is always something to do in Louisiana. Being the most naturally bountiful state in the union truly gives us a lot to celebrate!

It also gives us something to fight for. The desire to protect our state and her beautiful wetlands that provide so much for so many is necessary. The dream to pass all this culture on to my children someday lights a fire in me to continue to stay involved, stay educated on the issues and make sure that my voice is heard. There is no place like Houma!

July's Vue from the Trenches

What is the American Dream? According to Wikipedia, the idea of the American Dream is rooted in the second sentence of the Declaration of Independence which states that “all men are created equal” and that they are “endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights” including “Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” Maybe the question should be what is your American Dream? What is the happiness that you choose to pursue?

I choose to find happiness all around me. My happiness lies in Sunday dinner with my family, picking up my niece from school and taking her to the park, snuggling with my Monty dog and throwing the ball for Maddux and road trips to a different ballpark every weekend with my boyfriend John. Then there is perhaps the greatest happiness of them all ... finding that fabulous pair of designer shoes that you have been lusting after, half off and in your size!

I think we all dream of finding that which makes us happy. I am proud to say I am living my American Dream.

Father's Day

There is a rather popular Twitter account online in which a young man documents things his 74-year-old dad says. He is up to 1,342,725 followers and has just published his first book. If I would have known writing down things my dad says would make me rich, I would have started years ago!

Fathers seem to love to give advice to their children, and my dad is no exception. Some of his best ones are:
• “You can’t expect to soar with the eagles if you stay out all night with the owls.”
• “You have to know where you’ve been, to know where you are, to understand where
you’re going.”
• And my personal favorite, “Ask your mother.”

And even though the man is full of advice and one-liners, I think I have learned more life lessons just by watching him. Dad, you have taught me to lead by example, to strive to make a difference and to be thankful for the blessings I have in my life. Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I love you, Huntie! PoV

Mother's Day editor's note

I know Mother's Day isn't until Sunday, but since PoV came out today, I thought I would go ahead and share my "Vue From the Trenches" with you!



May's Vue From the Trenches

While I was chatting with Bonnie about what I planned on writing my note on this month (my need to devour anything fried on-a-stick), she ever so delicately reminded me what happened to our first editor when he made the now infamous mistake of not writing about his mother in our May issue. (She stopped doing his laundry and upped his rent.) I do not want a similar fate to befall me, so I am taking her advice, and devoting this space to my mother.

Hi Mom!
Being your daughter is an amazing honor. You could have chosen any child, from all around the world, but you hand-picked me!

Being adopted draws up a whole new set of rules between mother and daughter. I know we don’t share the same eyes or smile or secret love for Joel Osteen, but the things we do share are so much more important. We share a love for each other and for our family. You have showed me how to love unconditionally and with my whole heart. My best memories of my childhood include you.

I love you, Momma! Happy Mother’s Day!

April's Trenches

What an exciting month this has been! PoV turns three and Bonnie up and had her baby a full two weeks early!

The Monday after we welcomed Wyatt into our growing family, I sat at my new, big girl desk a little overwhelmed. I was greeted that morning with, “Well, I guess it’s time to sink or swim.” I felt like I was in the deep end of the pool with no floaties on. Could I really do this? Run a magazine while Bonnie is on leave? I know we had been preparing for this day. After all, I had a nine month fair warning! But, it still seemed surreal that this was happening.

In a way, PoV is Bonnie and Brian’s real first born. And they want to leave me in charge?

My own sister-in-law still can’t believe I let my niece Lola teeth on the leg of a chair. (I figured if my puppy had done it...) My brother called a billion times the day I had to pick Lola up from school, worried I would be late, forget or perhaps be abducted by aliens.

I have a generally laid-back attitude when it comes to baby-sitting and raising kids. Could this style work for PoV? Will it need more guidance? Stricter rules?

After my own version of labor including many sleepless nights, a few bottles of Strawberry Harvest, a couple 12-hour days and passing the thought that I needed to bring in an air mattress and forward my mail, my first solo issue is born. I truly hope you enjoy our three-year anniversary edition. This month, we are all the proud parents of this genius brain child!

One Day Without Shoes - Part One

TOMS One Day Without Shoes

Seemed like an easy enough task. Spend one day without shoes, to represent the lifetime some go without in other countries. Surely, I can do this. I may own 100+ pairs of shoes, but I like being barefoot.

From the moment I swung my feet around to climb out of the bed, I knew this was going to be a long day! I have two dogs that commanded my attention for their morning outing. I usually throw on a pair of flip-flops to follow them outside. This morning, I followed barefoot. The cement was cool, but no huge problems. The pollen from the oak tree in my yard did stick to my feet. I also didn’t dare walk into the dew soaked grass to throw the ball to Maddux! He had to bring the ball to me on the slab where my feet were high and dry!

I finished getting dressed and started out the door. Standing fully dressed, coffee and keys in hand, I pulled the door to my house shut behind me and paused. It really felt odd, standing on the cold brick steps, dressed for work and no shoes on my feet. I actually starting thinking to myself, I forgot something… cell phone? Check. Keys? Check. Computer cord? Check. Turned the coffee pot off? Check. The lack of shoes on my feet really caused my brain to make me take a moment to think, “What did you forget?”

I crossed my driveway and loaded my things in the Jeep and climbed into the driver’s seat. Is driving my car barefoot even legal? Safe? As it was, I had to pull the seat up a bit to be able to push the clutch in! Apparently, I take for granted the extra bit of height my shoes provide!

As I pulled up to my office, I paused a moment. Could I really do this today? Go barefoot? I’m not one who usually gives a dang about what people think about me, but I don’t go around drawing attention to myself either. I am a generally conservative person! Yet here I am, at my office, dressed in Capri pants to be sure people can see I am barefoot. And it’s only 8 a.m. I wonder if I really am going to make it all day!

I gathered myself and got out of the Jeep. I crossed our paved parking lot (thankful it’s not shells!) paying attention to where I was stepping. Usually, I just sprint inside, talking on the phone or still singing that last song on the radio. Defiantly not paying attention to the little things on the cement! This morning I was made aware of a tiny nail that I picked up to save my feet and an unsuspecting tire.

Upon walking into my office, I was pleased to find my co-workers were ready and barefoot! Both of our office workers were barefoot, and had already hung up the information poster on our office door to inform customers of our mission! The graphics department, also, was barefoot and ready to go! I was very excited to see that they were accepting of the idea and understood it’s importance.

Being barefoot around my office was really no big deal. Often times, if my heels are hurting my tootsies, I kick them off and go barefoot for a bit. I mostly sit at my desk and use the computer all day. Our floors are carpeted and clean. It didn’t really seem like much of a sacrifice to be barefoot in here. Then came the biggest challenge of my day… the bathroom. I’m not really a big germ-a-phob, but the idea of using a bathroom shared by 20 other people, men and women, had me second guessing the barefoot thing. Gross, right? I contemplated getting two Wet Wipes and placing them under my feet as I trudged to answer nature’s call. Maybe taking some paper from the recycle box and lining the floor? There had to be a safe way! Then I thought about it. I have indoor plumbing to be concerned about using. A toilet less than 20 steps from my desk. What was I really going barefoot for, if not to better understand the hardships that come with it. I took a deep breath, and off to the bathroom I went.

As lunch time approached, my mom called to see if I wanted to meet her at our local plant nursery, Ganier’s, to help her pick out some plants for her yard. Needing to get tomato plants for my own garden, I agreed to meet her there. Back through our paved parking lot I went. Not so lucky when pulling into Ganier’s! Their parking lot is a fine mixture of rocks and mud. Slightly daunted, I cautiously climbed down and made my way inside. I had already warned my mother of my lack of footwear for the day, but the other customers defiantly missed the memo. I got quite a few odd stares, and one obvious statement of “You don’t have any shoes on.” Yes, thank you, I have realized that. The different surfaces proved to be fun for my little feet. The difference in temperature from the warm rough concrete outside to the cool smooth bricks inside was fun to experience.

March Trenches

Can you hear that sound? It’s the distinct crack of a ball hitting a bat and the constant hum of chatter. “Hey batter, batter. Hey batter, batter.” Can you smell that fragrant bouquet of hamburgers grilling and peanuts boiling? Can you smell the freshly cut grass on the diamond? Can you taste that fabulous first sip of ice-cold draft beer mixing perfectly with the salt of the peanuts? Can you see that wonderful sight? That perfect white chalk diamond stands out like a perfect jewel in the sea of emerald green grass. Do you feel that stirring deep in your soul? That calling brings you back year after year to America’s pastime.

Baseball.

I love baseball. I always have. I remember watching the Atlanta Braves on TV and attending Houston Astros games while growing up. I love watching the players stand in the batter’s box, so tall and brave. I love the stare down between batter and pitcher, knowing the game is on the line. I love the bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, tied score. The wind up and the pitch. And another game is won.

I am an equal opportunity baseball watcher. If there’s a game on, I’m watching it. I’m not worried who’s playing; I may not even root for a team. I just want to watch. It doesn’t matter if the game is college or major league. I want to lose myself for a few hours in this great game. I want to stand and stretch in the seventh inning and sing along with another off key rendition of “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.” I’ve rarely missed an opening day Braves game even if it meant taking a day off of work or calling in sick. That’s my day and it’s my game. Those old MLB commercials got it right. “I live for this!”

February Trenches- PoV

Move over Jersey Shore Mike, there is a new “Situation” in town.

I’m talking about my Christmas gift from my boyfriend John, a Wii Fit. It seemed harmless enough, this little unassuming white board, all clean and innocent. I was super excited about it. I had seen the ads of the slim, athletic people having fun and playing games, all while getting fit! That could be me too!

“Welcome!” the game says, dripping with sweetness, “Let’s get started!” I step on the balance board, ready to start my new fit life. “Hold still please.” Are you kidding me? I find myself talking back to the machine, arguing that I could be mistaken for a statue.

It then measures my weight and calculates my body mass index. Oh boy. I’m not going to share that with you, but let’s just say it then decided to make my Mii character a little more plump than I had originally decided it should be!

The Wii Fit then puts you through balance and mental tests to find your Wii Fit age. Well, I was born in 1980, but according to my new fit-making friend, I am 39 years old. Guess I need to adjust the number of candles on that next cake!

The supposed fun part of the Wii Fit is that you check in everyday and it measures you and lets you know how much closer you are to your goal with a congratulatory confetti shower. Or...you are left standing in the middle of your living room trying to make excuses for the 5.5 pounds you seemed to have gained between Christmas and the new year. My former friend makes you stand there in shame and choose an option that may have led to your weight gain. “Overindulge?” Yes. “Too much sitting around?” Yes. Is there an “all of the above” option I can pick and just get this over with?

Overall, I love my new present and forever fit friend. Just don’t ask too many questions if you come over and find me arguing with it. “These clothes do so weigh 7 pounds! I know I didn’t gain that much, all I ate today was king cake!”

January 2010 Trenches...

During my monthly procrastination rituals prior to writing this note, I stumbled upon a Word document in my computer called “Resolutions 2009.” Hmm … I wonder how I did?

• Start a workout regiment – not unless you consider the laps I do through Target a workout.

• Try ballroom dancing – well, I didn’t miss a single episode of “So You Think You Can Dance.”

• Cut back on my reality TV watching – see above. Oh, and doesn’t “American Idol” start soon? Thank goodness for DVR!

• Paint the living room – the paint colors are definitely still push-pinned to the wall. At least I know I want a shade of blue … or gray … or green.

• Read the classics I skimmed through in college. Umm … I finished all four books in the “Twilight” series in a month.

• Buy fewer pairs of shoes – no comment.

Perhaps I should just rename the document “To-Do List 2010” and try again. Happy New Year! May 2010 be your year!

December's Trenches

December means one thing to me ... Karaoke time!

My mother’s side of the family lives in various places throughout Louisiana and Texas. We get together for one weekend usually right before Christmas to celebrate.

Four years ago, my grandfather, the heart of my family, passed away. We knew the holidays were going to be rough. My cousins got together and got Nanny a special present, one sure to brighten her holiday ... a karaoke machine!

“What?” Yes, we gave my 80-year-old grandmother a karaoke machine! (She rocks a pretty mean “Redneck Woman!”)

Now, on a yearly basis, we gather around the TV to embarrass ourselves and give the younger generation something to look forward to. Everyone has their favorites. The holidays would not be complete without such holiday classics as “Old Time Rock and Roll,” “Walk the Dinosaur,” “Proud Mary,” “Mambo No. 5” and Uncle Charles’ tone deaf version of “Pump Up the Jam.” One of my cousins even wrote a family song to the tune of Robert Earl Keen’s “Merry Christmas from the Family.”

Christmas at Nanny’s really is the hot ticket in town. Stay on the nice list and you might just get an invite! “Na Na Sha!”