I don’t usually talk in clichés, but in this instance, it’s quite healing. Some of you will get the gist. Others, I may lose quickly. But hang on. I just may step on some toes! This is a true story. Oh, and see if you can tell me how many clichés I’m using! :)
I’m not gonna beat around the bush. A little bird told me I may have pushed the proverbial envelope a little too far. The egg on my face is not all it’s cracked up to be, but none-the-less, there’s not enough room to swing a cat in this over-the-top naked truth. Simply said, I was caught red-handed, but thankfully NOT with my pants down. Instead I let the cat out of the bag and was called on the carpet for jumping on the bandwagon of terse reality. I couldn’t keep it under my hat any longer, but I knew somehow this might be the kiss of death for me and my holy humor. The jig is up. Can’t hold a candle to it. It’s a Catch 22, if there ever was one.
You see, I’ve been known to charm the pants off many. I’ve chewed the fat and jumped through hoops with the best of ‘em. Since the fans of this gospel/singing/comedy life assume you live the life of Riley, the truth is: It’s pretty much hand to mouth. I have no bitter pill to swallow or reason to get my dander up. I’m no longer quiet as a mouse and I must quit my belly aching. But after three long weeks with extra long graveyard shift drives, I was head over heels weary while barking up the wrong tree of fatigue. Bet your bottom dollar, this best bib and tucker girl will say wrong things when she’s tired. (Lord, what did she say??)
Ready. Set. Go. I said the “A - double scribble” word during one of my comedy concerts. It flew out of my mouth like birds of a feather flocking together. I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, but I tell ya for sure - my mother would have boxed my ears, breaking a leg (or two), and surely would be busting my chops over this one. By hook or crook, I knew this can of worms would NEVER give me enough time to spew an explanation or get a word in edgewise to the audience. It’s like I was caught red-handed in “if the shoe fits, wear it” language faux pas.
So Sue becomes Johnny on the spot, keeping her fingers crossed, that no one noticed this “let your hair down” expression. I was simply making no bones about it, the “A _ _” word came out after the mom in the audience finally took her precocious toddler out of the sanctuary. The naked truth is, the toddler was a full gamut loose cannon and mark my words, whatever I would or would not say, I’d be here today and gone tomorrow. I, the performer, was distracted. So I raise my Ebenezer, hit the nail on the head, and say (out loud to the audience), “If that was me when I was a kid, my mother would have hauled my “A _ _” to the parking lot!" (except I said THE word).
Silence, horror, then applause and laughter....
Beggars can’t be choosers, but bet your bottom dollar, someone in my world will be offended that I'm even retelling this tale. But hell or high water, I was between a rock and hard place dealing with both the toddler and his behavior and me and my “I can’t bite my tongue” any longer syndrome. My heart hurt like the Dickens, but I grinned like a Cheshire cat. We laughed, we cried, (the audience and I) for forever it seemed. Thank God they didn’t throw the baby (me) out with the bath water. I was down in the mouth for dropping the hammer for only a little while. This dyed in the wool singer/humorist of over forty years has realized that this once in a blue moon utterance was one for the road.
Before you cast the first stone, eat your heart out, oh precious sacred-talking friend! Like you’ve never done something like this...
I am eating crow and eating one’s own words, but I’m thanking God today that being real is as easy as pie for me. Too easy maybe..
In this eleventh hour, pardon my french here: If you fly off the handle or fight fire with fire, you’ll surely be an offense. If I can put my two cents in here: Put a sock in it. You’re like the pot calling the kettle black, if you haven’t at least once said something publicly you shouldn’t have. If your name is mud today, I’m not pulling your chain here - be very thankful. The people around you who are fit to be tied because of your transparency aren’t as fit as a fiddle as you think. I’d prefer to just put a feather in my cap, face the music, whistle down the wind on a wing and a prayer, and quit wearing my heart on my sleeve.
You’ll get opposition and you’ll make some mad as a hatter. But don’t ever give up being real. Two shakes of a lamb’s tale, I’m up the creek without a paddle sometimes. Thankfully my ducks are all in a row and I’m eating humble pie. With my kit and caboodle, I’m loaded for bear and keeping my shirt on ‘til Katy bars the door.
Let that cat out of the bag. Let your hair down. People need Jesus. The real Jesus. The one without the chip on His shoulder, ‘cause when the chips are down, He’s no cock and bull story. Give credit wear credit is due. Be the low man on the totem pole and you’ll be pleased as punch, flying with colors when your fair to middling life becomes truer than every other Tom, Dick and Harry. Be you. For the love of Pete, be you. Don’t sell yourself short. You’re the apple of HIS eye, even when you can’t bite your tongue or resist blowing off some steam. Loose lips sink ships, but mark my word, don’t go dragging your feet down the straight and narrow.
The photo below is the creation of my good friend and MOST HIGH REVEREND Tim Satryan. LOL!