Family Tradition

There is a firm rule in our house—you must believe in the spirit of Christmas to receive a gift. The magic of Santa may have faded as the years piled on, but what he stood for never has. In my mind, Santa represents the spirit of giving within all of us. And most giving starts with one thing—shopping.

Since before I can remember, my family has always gone shopping on the Friday after Thanksgiving. We don’t do the whole Black Friday thing with all of its door-busting and getting in line at 3 a.m. to save $10. For us, it’s more of a take-your-time, enjoy yourself, fun family tradition.

When I was younger, I always wanted to join my mother and Aunt Donna on their shopping excursion. It seemed like so much fun! They shopped locally owned, small businesses before it was trendy and cool. My mother’s good friend owned a toy store in Baton Rouge called Victoria’s Toy Station. That was their main reason for going shopping every year. They would spend all day hitting the small boutique shops and enjoying one another’s company. I wanted to go because I thought it would be fun. I also thought if I went, maybe I could even score a few extra presents!

As I reached my early teen years, my mom and Aunt Donna decided I was old enough to join them on their annual shopping trip. I asked my friend Kate to join me. We were so excited! Well, that excitement was pretty short-lived. We realized that shopping was also a very serious matter among my family members. They hit the stores with their lists ready. (My mom even has a book of what she gave who last year so she doesn’t give the same gift twice.) They have been known to spend over two hours in Victoria’s Toy Station picking out the perfect toy for even the youngest family member. They literally shopped until someone dropped.

I have a very clear memory of crawling beneath a Christmas tree with Kate and collapsing, unable to go any further, hoping they wouldn’t find us so we could get just a moment’s rest.

Several years passed before I attempted to join the ladies on their quest again.

Now, as an adult, our little group continues to make our pilgrimage every year. Aunt Donna, my cousins Kristen and Kim, my mom and I pile into our cars that Friday morning and head to Baton Rouge. Our first stop is still Victoria’s. All these years later, she still looks for our bright faces at opening time on that Friday. Her daughter now helps to run the shop, and we look forward to seeing pictures of her own sweet baby girl that might one day help us to shop in her grandmother’s store. We still take our time with our careful selections as we buy for a whole new generation.

This special day is one I look forward to every year. It’s a Christmas tradition that reminds us of the importance of family and the spirit of giving.

Keeping It Local

We tell small children to write their letters to Santa early enough so that Santa’s elves have time to make the toys they wish for. The mighty elves at Neiman Marcus follow the same rules, too. The department store puts out its Christmas Book in mid-October, including a list of Dream Gifts that the top 1 percent of the top 1 percent can probably afford. A tradition dating back to 1926, this year’s dreams include his-and-her fountains, an around-the-world flower show tour and a custom-designed yurt (complete with pillows from Rebecca Vizard of St. Joseph, La., and a custom, hand-crafted crystal chandelier from New Orleans-based Julie Neill Designs).

As I was perusing this year’s selection of unobtainable items, I noticed something interesting. As a reward for purchasing such an elaborate gift, Neiman Marcus will donate a portion of the proceeds to select charities; for example, in return for purchasing the $1 million his-and-her fountains designed by WET, of Bellagio fountain fame, Neiman Marcus will donate $10,000 to water.org, an organization that provides safe drinking water in developing countries.

Now, don’t get me wrong. There is nothing wrong with this idea of buying something that gives to a larger, worldwide nonprofit or organization. I personally purchased pink items during the month of October because a portion of the proceeds went to help with breast cancer research through the Susan G. Komen Foundation. I know research from these larger charities could very well save my life, or the life of another.

But there are many charities right here in the Houma-Thibodaux area that could use our donations, too. Many of them host their own fundraiser, with silent auctions full of donated items from local merchants and artisans. Junior Auxiliary of Houma will host their annual Denim and Diamonds event on Nov. 3. The proceeds go right back into Terrebonne Parish to help fund service projects dedicated to the well-being of women and children. TFAE will host Great Conversations on Nov. 8 to help provide local kindergarteners in public schools with an educational book of their own. These are just two small examples of local organizations that take your donations and return them back to your community where you choose to live, work and raise your family.

Other ways to give back locally include volunteering your time by joining a local service organization, such as Rotary, Junior Auxiliary or Habitat for Humanity. Donate old clothing to TARC’s Cedar Chest and help provide this amazing group of citizens with a meaningful employment opportunity. Or give the greatest gift of all—life—by donating blood at a local blood bank.

You can always give back to your community through the simple act of shopping locally. As you flip through the pages of this month’s magazine, notice all the local advertisements for independent retailers. By purchasing the products they sell or the services they offer, you help to keep your hard-earned money in this community.

What are some of the charities that are close to your heart? Share them with our readers by logging onto our Facebook page and starting a conversation. Introduce a whole new generation to the importance of giving.

Another Man's Treasure

“One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”

If you could find an original, authenticated, autographed copy of this quote from the guy that first said it, someone in my new TV lineup would probably buy it and then make a small fortune selling it to a collector he just happens to know.

I have been relentlessly watching shows with historical value that provide me with endless entertainment, like “Auction Hunters,” “Storage Wars,” “Pawn Stars” and “American Pickers.” I can’t get enough of these colorful characters, most of whom make a living buying and selling old storage lockers and units. They never hesitate to bid, and sometimes continue to bid just to drive up the price for a competitor.

My favorite character on these shows is a toss-up between Ton from “Auction Hunters,” who loves stuff with motors, guns and things that go boom, and Dave from “Storage Wars,” whose unmistakable “Yeeepppp!” can be heard from across the parking lot of the storage facility he is bidding at.

One of the reasons I like these shows is the information I receive—amazing facts that I learn as my favorite vultures descend upon their new moneymaker. I have learned more about Americana than I ever thought possible. As items are discovered, a short history of the items and why they are valuable is given. I have learned about collectibles like flintlock firearms, Oswald clocks, circus posters and political paraphernalia, such as buttons and dolls.

The people in these shows view everything with dollar signs in mind. It makes the pack rat in me wonder how much potential value is hidden away in my attic or garage. But even if I did have a priceless piece of “who-knows-what,” I wonder if I would even consider that “whatchamacallit” to be valuable, or just an old “thingy” that was inherited. Then comes the big question: Who in the world do I sell it to?

These shows have endless resources willing to authenticate, give historical significance to and appraise items ... and a never-ending array of vendors ready to buy their newly acquired junk, or should I say ... treasure?

Smile!

Good ol’ Mr. Webster defines the word smile as “a facial expression in which the eyes brighten and the corners of the mouth curve slightly upward and which expresses especially amusement, pleasure, approval or sometimes scorn.” Wikipedia reminds us that “smiles can communicate feelings as different as love or contempt, pride or submission, flirtatiousness or polite tolerance.”

In my book, a smile is just an amazing thing.

Baby’s first smile at her mother; that flirtatious grin from across the room; the smile as you see your bride for the first time; the look on your grandparents’ faces as they celebrate their 50th anniversary. It is the first thing we request the moment a camera is whipped out. We text the image to one another and email with it every day. :)

You all know how much I like reading blogs on the Internet. I recently came across a blog that follows the life of a young single mother who often has trouble finding things to smile about. She has begun to make a list for the days when she needs “her frown to turn upside down!” It has inspired me to start my own. Not every day is a happy one; sometimes you need a little reminder. I’m not the most positive person. I’m not a negative person ... it’s just that I instantly see both sides of the coin. I have been accused of bursting a bubble or two in my lifetime. Some days, I have a hard time finding something to smile about. It’s at those moments when I discover more things to add to my list.

I challenge you to begin your own list for the days when the sky is gray and you need a helping hand. These are some things that make me smile:
• Reading a good book. Then reading it again and again.
• Watching “Jeopardy” and getting most of the questions right.
• Terry bursting out into random song and, if I’m lucky, dance.
• Stalking around the house, imitating a T-Rex to make John smile.
• That first sip of coffee on a lazy Saturday morning.
• Country music and Lola. I swear that kid knows every song!

Back-to-school Time!

Back to school time. I swear I can actually smell it in the store. Pencils, crayons, backpacks, lunch boxes, loose leaf paper, sticky notes, erasers, highlighters, folders ... I’m getting excited just thinking about it! I want to stock up on everything, and I haven’t been a student in years! I’m a sucker for general office supplies to begin with, so back-to-school supplies are like Christmas for people like me!

There is still an amazing feeling that comes from breaking out your bright yellow, just-sharpened No. 2 pencil and cracking open that brand-new notebook—all those blank lines staring back at you just waiting to be filled with endless knowledge or equally impressive doodles.

Despite my love of the supplies that made learning easier, I never was that great of a student. I wasn’t big on the one necessary part of learning––studying. One semester when my college report card showed three less-than-desirable grades and one A, my dad very wisely suggested to my not-so-happy mother that I was simply concentrating too hard on one subject. As you may have guessed, that one A was for a class in my favorite subject, English. It was my freshman writing class and because of that class, I was completely sold. I loved to write.

My love for writing carried on through the years. I was that odd student that loved term papers and such. I just wanted to write. Married to that was an equally strong passion for reading, which ended up serving me well when I finally figured out that studying equaled good grades. And as life carries on, my love of reading and writing helps to ensure that I never stop learning!

Cheese!

So I just realized I never uploaded my real picture that I use for the magazine. It's totally not as cool as the other one (I rather rock a nifty mustache) but I guess it'll do. I hate having my picture taken, so this is as good as it gets. Special thanks to Aimee Dugas Photography for having the patience to get a good shot while I wasn't busy goofing off!

The Secret is Out...

I never thought I’d be writing this, but the day has come. Ladies and gentleman, I have hit the wall. I have writer’s block. I have nothing witty ... or interesting ... or tear-provoking to write about. My creative juice has evaporated in the immense summer heat. So this month, in lieu of a deep and thoughtful column, I’m going to let you in on a little secret of mine. No fair telling others that haven’t read this column. You have to keep it to yourself ...

I’m a people watcher.

Whew! Feels good to get that off my chest! In a conversation the other day with our new sales rep, Lesley, I discovered we share a similar “hobby” of sorts. We enjoy watching people.

At restaurants, in line at the ice cream place, at the ballpark, in the airport—wherever people gather in public. Checking out what people are wearing, imagining where they are going and watching them interact with one another.

My favorite place to people watch is in a busy mall out of town where I am sure to know nobody and just watch as the people go by. Hearing tidbits of their conversations, with each other, to a person on their cell phone, with themselves ... it all leads me to begin to weave intricate stories about those people. I let my imagination and creativity take flight. I come up with fantastic stories about the unsuspecting people that cross my path. I give them names, careers, spouses, children—whatever! Don’t worry, I never write any of these fabricated stories down.

I’ll often ask my regular dining companion, John, “What do you think their story is?” about other people sitting in the restaurants we frequent. It’s an especially good night if I can get him to play along. I was thrilled when the movie “Date Night” included a scene in which the characters do the same thing at dinner. OK, well, maybe I just don’t feel so silly about my secret hobby anymore.