I had no idea that a little over a month ago when I threw ramen noodles, instant oatmeal, and old Beanie Babies from the back of my Jeep in the Fort Payne Christmas parade, that I was accidentally auditioning for the upcoming annual Children’s Advocacy Center “dinner and a show” play.
As we slowly rode past what seemed to be the majority of the population of the town in the parade, I was doing my best to shout out anyone’s name I knew, as I sported my ugly Christmas sweater… not giving much thought to how theatrical of a spectacle I was making of myself.
Just a couple days after the parade, I was recruited to be in the play.
Not a coincidence. That was my audition.
Acting was a huge part of my childhood and my connection with the town of Fort Payne. From 3rd grade until my Senior year of high school, I was regularly performing in plays and musicals; whether they were through the local community theater group, or a church, or the school.
Specifically, I am what is referred to as a “character actor”… not the lead. I naturally transform into any version of a character that needs to show up for comic relief. That has always been my speciality.
It is no different for the upcoming “Jukebox Diner”, in which I play two different characters like this:
-An overeager romantic who is on the search for his 4th wife, having just finished a brief stint in prison.
-A grumpy old man who is well-informed of what’s going on in town, thanks to regularly monitoring everyone’s posts on “the Facebook”.
I love the challenge of playing two completely different characters, each with their own personalities and accents, showing up on stage just minutes apart from each other.
Now that I think about it, I haven’t actually been in a play since my senior year of high school, in 1999. So… I haven’t officially acted on a stage in nearly 27 years! But for me, it’s simply second nature to me to do theater again.
We’ve now made it through our first couple of weeks of practice and it is really starting to get fun. Opening night is coming up soon!
Show dates: February 5, 6, 7, 9, 12, 13 and 14.
To reserve your tickets, call the Children’s Advocacy Center at 256-997-9700.
I am a big fan of Saturday mornings. Something I specifically appreciate about living in Fort Payne is there are quiet places to spend with you and Mommy… while your brother sleeps in.
Last Saturday morning, we had breakfast together at The Bakehouse in downtown.
And the Saturday before that, the three of us went to Alice Circle, right around the corner from The Bakehouse, where you “made some slime” in the craft room and Mommy bought a t-shirt that I knew looked like her style.
Quality time is the most important thing to me. I love Saturday mornings with you and Mommy!
Occasionally, at random times, my life feels like I just booted back up after receiving a software update that I didn’t ask for.
I look around and ask myself, “How did I get here? How many years have passed? Where did all those people go who were here before and who are these new people in my life at this point? Why do I have both more answers and more questions at the same time? How old am I now?”
At this point in human civilization, especially in this country, it appears that “authentic human connection” has become that much more of a commodity.
I am very fortunate. I graduated high school from a particular town in Alabama where collectively, we still continue to desire to show up to our class reunions; even 25 years later.
Just as important, one of our own, Tabatha Hilyer, happens to be a gifted event planner. She always goes beyond simply just setting up a reunion at a local restaurant. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that!) Instead, our class reunions are like the kind you see in a movie or a TV show.
There is a nice rented out space. A DJ is hired. Food is catered. It’s the real deal. Not to mention, all the details are clearly and consistently communicated leading up to the event.
Sure, it is a great time. It’s a comfortable and fun place to be.
And, I think it’s not inappropriate to say… therapeutic.
We’re 43 now.
As I made a point to speak to every single one of my classmates there throughout the night, I noticed there wasn’t much of a focus on career in our conversations.
Instead, the general focus seemed to be more of a collected sigh of relief and sense of gratitude for all we’ve overcome to this point; both as a group and as individuals.
Born in 1980 and 1981, as part of “The Oregon Trail Generation”, we didn’t grow up with cell phones or the Internet. We grew up in a simpler and less confusing time, I feel.
By the time we started getting settled into our careers and starting a family, we found ourselves in the Financial Crisis of 2008.
Then by the time it seemed things were starting to stabilize, many of us were thrown into a situation where we were forced to suddenly work from home, while attempting to manage having small kids who were supposed to be doing school remotely alongside us.
Yet in the aftermath of that Covid Crisis of 2020, many of us were enabled to move back to Fort Payne with our families to live a quieter life.
Obviously, I happen to be one of those members of The Class of 1999 who has recently moved back here to Fort Payne. So the word “reunion” holds a lot more weight than previous years.
I suppose I am fascinated by the fact we still recognize each other’s familiar personalities from our childhood and teenage years, but now we carry with us 25 years of adult experiences; including both challenges and celebrations.
There is undeniably something humbling and sobering about it. No need nor desire to try to impress each other.
Instead, the sentiment was a sincere, “I am so glad you are here.”
“The Class of Ninety-Nine”
Twenty-five years have passed since I walked that stage
When I graduated, we were the Class of Ninety-Nine
Just turned eighteen, it was time to see
What I could be if I crossed that state line
Twenty-five years later, now I’ve moved back to this town
Back to my roots, the old becomes new
It’s not really starting over as I settle down
Back from the future, this time I know what to do
How could I ever change
If I never moved away?
I had to make mistakes
I had to break
I had to take my time
It would be an understatement to say I’m not the same
That the years haven’t changed my mind
That was a different life back in the Class of 1999
My 3rd song is a clearly a prime example of me, unknowingly at the time, showing my true Enneagram 6 identity: focused on belonging and security.
Released on October 29th, 2019, it had been nearly a decade since one the most monumental events of my life: My wife and I had moved back to my hometown on Fort Payne, Alabama; with our newborn son, without jobs, hoping and praying that our leap of faith and our new life would work out.
It didn’t. We last 9 months before we had to move back to Nashville, in humility.
This song was me accepting, in hindsight, that though I had moved back to my hometown because I saw it as a place of stability and security, it ended up being the opposite for me.
The irony, all these years later, is that my wife and I can easily work for home; wherever “home” happens to be. We could move back to my hometown again now and it would probably be fine.
However, because of living through that in 2010 and 2011, I now feel more stability and security where I live now in Tennessee.
Here are the lyrics:
“I was born and raised in Fort Payne, Alabama – Baptized and saved in Fort Payne, Alabama – I tried to move back years ago but it wasn’t quite the same – Time had moved too fast or slow and I couldn’t keep the pace – I moved out, I moved on, I found a new place to call home – But those Alabama back roads still show me where to go – I married a girl from northern California – Where they make the wine and they grow those big Sequoyahs – We planted our roots in Tennessee and we started a family – If you said this was my fate or fortune I think I would agree – I grew up in the southern Appalachians – Between Desoto Falls and Little River Canyon – If you called me Mother Nature’s son, I’d take it as a compliment – I’d trade a Lexus for an RV, a mansion for a tent – I spent the first 35 years of my life trying to know who I should be – All these puzzles pieces here, it’s more than I need – There’s a difference between who I used to be – Versus who I am now when I’m back in this town – Is this still the same place? Maybe I’m the one who’s changed”
So looking back on this song I wrote nearly 4 years ago, can you see the Enneagram 6? Can you see my longing for security and confirmation of my own existence?
Feel free to leave a comment. I’d love to hear your thoughts!
And now you can listen to the song, below, if you wish:
After waiting 5 years since my last high school reunion, when unfortunately my wife couldn’t make it due to being in California at the time, I was so glad that she and I could go out on a date to my 20th high school reunion.
My wife came to my 10th high school reunion back in 2009; we were still technically newlyweds at the time:
And because of that, many of my classmates got to know her pretty well.
For the day of my 20th high school reunion, my sister and her husband volunteered to watch our kids the whole day (and night) so that we could really make the most of it.
So we started the day off right by going down to The Spa in Rainsville; where we both got pedicures.
(Last month while we were on family vacation, my wife took me along for a pedicure and I admit- I didn’t hate it. So I was open to the idea of going back.)
My wife jokes that I have “Berenstain Bear” toenails. She’s pretty much right. I need all the help I can get with it comes to my toes.
But afterwards, to balance things out, we took the Jeep out on the mud trails.
Now that I have been really putting the 4 wheel drive capabilities to the test, I have been heavily considering dropping a few hundred dollars to purchase a winch to put on my bumper; giving me the ability to pull myself out of mud.
Our most recent excursion, this past weekend, got us stuck in a puddle that was higher than the tires. Even with the Jeep already being in 4 wheel drive, I didn’t have enough power to drive myself out.
The Jeep was noticeably tilting to my side. It wasn’t a crazy thought that we might turn over into the deeper-than-I-realized mud water; basically a mini-pond.
Fortunately, my dad was sitting right next to me in the passenger seat, and told me to try putting it in reverse.
At this point, I knew not even to look to my left out the window, knowing that the muddy water had to be pretty close to reaching the glass.
I prayed: “God, please help us get out of here!”
The Lord answered my desperate and humble prayer.
But for the rest of my life, I will always look back at this event as nothing short of miraculous. That story could have very easily ended much differently:
With the Jeep being stuck there, miles from civilization; easily being an all-day event to get pulled out.
Thank God, though- we were delivered from the pit and no permanent damage was done to my Jeep; which is our officially family vehicle that I take the kids to school in every day and the vehicle that we take out of town trips in.
My dad happens to be the real life version of MacGyver. He had to figure out how to reattach the front mud guard under the bumper. It was a complicated task, but he was able to restore it back to normal.
(I still need to clean up the mud that started oozing through the drain holes in the floor of my Jeep, though!)
So when it comes to taking my prized possession in to the unpredictable muddy trails, I’m pretty sure I officially got this out of my system.
I’m a person who truly lives without fear. I don’t get anxious or nervous, and I definitely don’t get scared.
But in that pivotal moment of being helplessly stuck worse than I had ever been before, I was terrified!
I think I am going to retire from driving back on those trails- and just to be safe, I think I will still purchase the winch anyway!
As for the high school reunion, it just couldn’t have gone better! It was so well planned and we had a really good turn out.
I was happy to see how many people remembered my wife. It almost felt like she actually graduated high school with the rest of us; it felt so natural. (She also graduated high school in 1999; just on the other side of the country in Sacramento.)
Catching up with friends who have known me my entire life was such a rewarding experience. It was funny, at one point when we had our class picture taken, we were directed:
“Just stand next to who you normally do in these pictures!”
Sure enough, it was the same guys as it was in high school and our other reunions. We make up the section, “Guys who are the same height as the tall girls, but guys who aren’t necessarily considered short.”
For me, I care so much about my high school class reunions, they are truly a highlight of my life every 5 years. I really love the group of people I was fortunate enough to grow up with in the 1980s and 1990s.
The next morning for lunch, my wife and I were reunited with our kids, who thoroughly enjoyed their slumber party with their cousins the night before.
After a hearty lunch at Fontana’s, we made the 3 hour drive back to Tennessee. Our daughter was asleep by the time we made it to the interstate.
This weekend was just perfect. It will remain one of the best memories of my life.
I was surrounded by people I love and care about and have known a very long time.
That is what makes life good.
If you haven’t gotten a chance to read my blog post about my 20th high school reunion this past weekend, here’s your chance again.
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