It’s Okay, NOT to be Okay

“We are all broken, that’s how the light gets in.” – Hemingway

Prologue – During a recent cleaning of my computer files, I discovered a folder full of partially completed blogs. Some were near completion while others were no more than a few sentences of a single thought. There were even a few, as my pal Corey Oakley best describes, that were borderline ramblings of a mad woman and may take some time to deconstruct. Deciding to tackle the chore of finishing each post, not only gave me a head start on my writing but reminds me of my reflections of years past. The following post was 95% complete and originated from November of 2019 a few months past finishing my breast cancer treatment. It was also around the time of Bobby and I calling time of death on our marriage. A longer blog, with many trains of thought, I did my best to edit without taking away from my original state of being. And although my mind, spirit and soul are in a much more joyful state, the sentiments seem to ring true in today’s world.

It’s Okay to be Not Okay

How many times has the following conversation been part of your day?

A friend asks a simple, kind question: “How are you?” You instantly respond with the obligatory, “I am okay” or better yet “I am good, just living the dream.” And quickly change the subject to any other topic but your current state of being. Deep down inside or maybe even right under the surface, you are far from okay. Why is sharing the truth seem like such a challenging request, even coming from our closest people?

In a world where other people’s opinions and reactions have a direct effect on our mindset when do we risk being brave enough to share the truth? When asked over the past several months, “How are you”, I was as guilty as the next guy with brushing the truth under the rug. Is it an inner urge to create a positive outlook or a private “do not disturb” switch I hung on my hypothetical emotional door? To be honest for me it was holding it together in order not to burst into tears. As a pure defense mechanism to my sanity and sadness, my main goal was holding it together on the surface. “Isn’t a beautiful sunny day?” was my focus, minute by minute, day by day. I had allowed myself to be the supporting character in my own story and not burden others in my sadness.

For me, there were a variety of reasons. Originally, I chalked it up to societies niceties, to air on the always sunshine, glass half full, response to your general state of being. But as I dug deeper, there were a treasure chest full of motives for being “untrue” in my remarks. I don’t have the strength to elaborate on my response, the feeling that the person asking really is just making small talk, or maybe I am just plain embarrassed by my circumstances. Was I a giant failure at my own life? And then it hit me, it is okay to say, “I am not okay”.

2019 may just be my least favorite year to date. The only other contender would be 1997, but as I try to get “this too shall pass” to set in, the newness of our current calendar feels far more difficult. Struggling to find my new normal, there is a liberation with owning your feelings and how you navigate them to the world. Starting to accept that I don’t have to go into detail nor do I need to feel responsible how the other person perceives my response. I also can take others “helpful” responses and do as I please with the information. And this new freedom has made me dig further into speaking ones truths.

Speaking Your Truths

In today’s culture (I believe strengthen by social platforms) humans think they can share their thoughts freely. Good, bad or just plain right out of left field, views flow freely. But in modern communication it seems that there is a new concept that comes with the sharing of opinions. We tend contribute those agreeing with us (or changing their mind) with how “loud” our expression grows. And that everyone who “follows or likes” our thought, will also feel exactly the same way. Even easier, if someone disagrees with us, with a push of a button we can simply “unfriend” them and block out their words. Problem solved and your world is full of the perfect harmony of everyone you associate with thinking, feeling, and believing all the same truths.

Well, I am here to tell you that is not okay. I am all for everyone embracing their political, spiritual, moral, educational, sports loving, beliefs. Sing them from the roof tops, be loud and proud, but do not expect me to jump in line and change my mind if we tend to differ. I agree with all my heart that we should all get to share our beliefs and live a life true to ourselves. But with that comes the acceptance that I get to believe, reflect and deliberate (or not deliberate) just the same as the guy next door.

So here are a few things I am okay with embracing, believing and living by, that it is okay for you to NOT share in my view. We can still be friends. We can still “like” each other on the world wide web. And the earth-shattering news is, that we all will still be a complete person tomorrow.

Jacky’s Beliefs

1 – Agriculture is king. More importantly, commercial agriculture is responsible, mindful, enterprises that are managed by smart people that value our earth, economics, and feeding our planet. Big does not equal bad. We need all kinds of farming to maintain the volume, tastes, preferences and price points that keep the supply chain viable. Do you realize that not all organic farming practices are sustainable? Do you even know the definition of organic or holistic farming or what an operation consists of on a production platform?

2 – It is okay to be a girl. Being born with two XX chromosomes isn’t a liability. I do agree both men and women can achieve, do, be whatever they want. But in this world that girls can do anything a boy can, I fear sometimes the message loses site that being a girl is pretty cool too. When I went to grad school in 1991 studying agriculture economics in Oklahoma, how many young ladies do you think were my classmates? There were three of us total and I was the only one that graduated 18 months later. 28 years later, my daughter is at the same university in the same major getting her Phd and the ratio of men to woman has changed drastically. I am all for everyone of us being true to our dreams. I also think that pink, crowns, dolls and wearing ribbons and bows doesn’t change your value to the world.

3 – Not everyone is cut out for collegiate life—and that’s okay. I’ve been around high school agriculture teachers for the last 38 years, and vocational skills have real-world value. Certified welders, landscapers, and heavy equipment operators—these are skilled professions, and they’re highly lucrative. We each have something to give to the universe to make it better. It just might not be developed through a four-year degree.

4 – Finally, it is okay not to be okay. Kiah Burchett visited my class to share her story and talk about self-brand. When one of the students asked her if she had bad days? I will never forget her response. She asked the class if you saw a heart rate monitor and the line was even (straight) what does that mean. They all replied, “you would be dead.” Exactly we all have down days. They allow the good days to follow.

If every day we felt the same and every situation was a neutral response would we feel nonstop joy or would we just feel empty? Being not okay occasionally and allowing ourselves to reboot is a necessity to life. When I wrote the above, I was about as down as I have ever been in my life. I started to wonder why I didn’t finish this post and get it published. But then I discovered the culprit. I wrote this on November 10, 2019, five days before I met Tod. He came along and jump started my climb back up my EOG (electric okay gram), filling my time with UCSD sporting events and meeting new people. My mind was finding joy in new adventures. And before you knew it, the sad of the past began to fade.

Here we are almost six years later. Go ahead and ask me how I am doing. Don’t get me wrong I still have those days that are just not good, but I am open to sharing my ups and downs with no remorse. Tod and I have experienced many changes in our world and even gained a dog. How does the old saying go, “What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger”. Maybe that is the key, our strength comes from the down days. But I rather lean into the words of the Beatles, “Here comes the sun and I say, “It’s alright” or should we say “It’s okay”.

The photo was taken outside of Santa Fe, NM in September of 2019 exploring spiritual location

September 23, 2025 0

You’re the Biggest Part of Me… Class of 85

“All it takes is one song to bring back a thousand memories” – Unknown

It’s Labor Day and approximately 90 days past my original attempt at this post. It began with a trip to California to celebrate my nephew Garrett’s wedding the first week of June.

Being the ultimate travel planner (or at least in my vivid imagination) my initial goal was to make a brief stop in Las Vegas for a couple of days with an end game of catching Kenny Chesney at the Sphere. A few days of poolside sun made the itinerary; No Shoes Nation did not. (I traded the expense of concert tickets for a second summer adventure. Saratoga Springs racing season for the win. But that is a story for another day.) During the four hour flight to Sin City, I stumbled across a documentary chronically the birth of Yacht Rock music.

Being a creature of habit with a knack to embrace my seasonal luxuries, there are hard and fast rules in holiday celebration that I hold firm. You won’t catch me listening to Christmas music until the day after Thanksgiving. Then it is nonstop Bing and the boys crooning away with a sprinkle on Mariah and Amy Grant until the clock strikes 12 on December 25. Yet the jolly holly day isn’t the only seasonal playlist that I am loyal too. A few years ago, I discovered a summer station that made my 15-year-old heart melt, Yacht Rock radio.

Between Memorial Day and Labor Day, Yacht Rock graces my satellite radio as a designated channel. And for the sunshine months, I enjoy some of my favorite tunes from my teenage years. What a pleasant surprise on that faithful flight on June 1, to stumbled across a documentary that chronicled the mystery of this nontraditional genre.

The Yacht Rock movement to my surprise was more than a collection of songs I enjoyed formatted into a single playlist. Did you realize that much of this music stirs from a collection of talent combined in infinite combinations? Back in the 80s it was common for musicians or vocalists to assist in the studio across a variety of artists. Don’t believe me take a moment and grace the credits of half the songs listed on the top 100 Yacht Rock tunes and count how often Michael McDonald’s name appears? Songwriter, lead vocals or studio back up. He was mentioned so often that I began to wonder if he just kept a sleeping bag in his car with a spare tooth brush. The jazzy piano sound combined with the eccentric styles of the perfectionism of Steely Dan or the band Toto as independent studio musicians define the genre that didn’t exist until decades after the music topped the charts.

Fast forward to September 1, where I find myself as a passenger on another United flight headed to Las Vegas for an excursion to the Sphere. This time to skip down the yellow brick road and to see my pals the flying monkeys. There is no better use of my time, but to finish this blog. And ponder on why a piece of music history can make me feel like, there is no place like home?

Yacht Rock was never meant to creep into our airwaves on its own format when the artists were creating the sound. Born from skits and crooners making fun of this little slice of 80’s music it became a collection of sounds that reflected similar styles and characters. No captain hats or boats required, the definition included a smooth, jazzy piano sound featuring soulful voices of Micheal McDonald or Kenny Logins. Engrossed in the 95 minute documentary, I viewed a story of music that shaped my teenage years through my early twenties and rolled me back to 1985.

What happen forty years ago? The greatest class of the 80’s graduated from High School and took their first step into their future. Looking back at my educational journey it was truly a combination of Mayberry meets Surfing USA. I proudly place myself as part of two classes of 1985, roughly two hours apart in driving distance and as diverse in lifestyle as any country girl could imagine. And I am was the lucky one to have experienced all of my classmates from both Templeton and Carpenteria.

I began my first day of kindergarten with many of the same a faces that I walked across the stage with twelve years later in the Templeton gym to receive our high school diplomas. During the sixth year of my scholastic journey, I joined the class of 85 in a the coastal town (sixth grade through my sophomore year) just south of Santa Barbara known for avocados and ornamental horticulture, Carpenteria. An environment that seemed 10 times bigger (probably closer to 5 times) and culturally on a different planet. Yet, as I watched the documentary and quietly sing every lyric, I couldn’t help but notice the synergy that created the Yacht Rock sound mirrored the mapping of my childhood journey.

Jazz music is characterized by its emphasis on improvisation, complex harmonies, and syncopated rhythms. It often features a blend of different musical styles and cultural influences, making each performance unique and expressive. These notes combined with the overwhelming thread of collaboration of artists, song writers and musicians truly is the heart and soul of Yacht Rock music. And my growing-up game board of skipping through the spaces followed a similar format.

My classmates and friendship groups featured a mix of many personalities from a diversity of backgrounds. The foundation of our togetherness was a mix of harmonies of interest, unique collaborations, proximity in our daily life and that we were all in this big can of stew together.

There is nothing like the friends you have in your school days. They are a constant that you can count on day in and day out. As we grow older and embrace friendships in our later years, one can easily yearn for the ease of having a pal in our back pocket at all times. Let’s face it, it might not always feel this way, but in high school and college, there is always someone a stone’s throw away that is going through the exact same experience. There were an abundance of opportunities to make a friend or hang out with like minded people. Hearing the songs of my past, made me pause. Is my love of this music enriched in the sound or how it takes my memories on a soulful journey back to my youthful days.

From school dances to FFA trips, from high school sports to yearbook antics, my life was full of some of the most amazing humans that have ever walked this planet. Being part of the notorious Gen X culture, we might be small in size compared to other generations, but we have the luxury of being at the dawn of countless changes in world and daily life. We were the kids that learned how to cook with a microwave for an after school snack. Our music came in many forms, albums, 8 tracks, cassette or good old fashion AM/FM radio. Back in the days that making the team meant you showed up daily for practice and there was a role for all in the school play, being part of the whole offered a sense of community.

Templeton High School class of 85’s final journey was a trip south to the Happiest Place on Earth. Grad Night at Disneyland was our toast to the past while running straight into our future. I will admit there was a part of me that knew deep down inside that as we left the bus after the long ride home, it would be the last time I would see many of my classmates. Yes, there has been weddings, significant birthdays and chance encounters over the years, but there a just a handful of my classmates that I regularly communicate with or see (both Templeton and Carpinteria). Sure the birth of social media gives us an opportunity to reconnect and “check in”. But sitting here I figured why wait for a formal event to share what everyone of you means to my life.

Lisa, Julie, Lisa and me CHS 85 – 20 Year Reunion

As the Ambrosia song states, “Got a feelin’ that forever, we are gonna stay together, for me, there’s nothin’ better, you’re the biggest part of me”, the humans that I spent twelve years of my life surrounded by will always be part of my foundation. The story of Yacht Rock showed that working together always made the whole better. My classmates are who taught me to love, to laugh at nonsense, feel the value of team work, how to win and how to loose. Without them I would not be the person I am today. So here is to all of you from the Class of 85, thank you for being part of my life (big or small)…. you will forever be a huge part of me.

September 12, 2025 0

No Ordinary Fool

“People smile and tell me I’m the lucky one, And we’ve just begun, Think I’m gonna have a son, He will be like she and me, as free as a dove, Conceived in love, Sun is gonna shine above” – Danny’s Song

Today is the anniversary of my introduction to motherhood. It was a sunny, spring morning in Stillwater, Oklahoma when Nolan Robert Hildebrand made his entrance into the world. A last minute scheduled C section, who knew this eight and half pound baby boy would teach us so much over the next thrity-three years.

I have written about my daughters and celebrated their milestones across the digital airwaves. Primary because sometime in Kayla’s mid teens she decided that birthday week should be a “thing” and I gladly obliged. Daily treats and posts showcasing all things fabulous about Kayla and Lilly lined my social media account in March and October annually. Yet, Nolan’s yearly birthday somehow missed these festivities, quietly resting in my writer’s mind waiting for a time to shine. Today is that day.

I am beyond grateful for my three children. They each bring love and light into the world in their own uniquely, special way. Yet, Nolan does hold the title of being the first born. He gave me the gift of being a mom. Our early days together found me navigating my way through grad school with a baby stroller. I often wondered if he would be a gifted math student for the hours of early absorption of economics. Looking back, my scholastic journey was nothing compared to the education that my brown eyed son has afforded me over the last three decades.

Nolan’s natural tendencies were apparent at an early age. His big heart, concentration ability, storage of facts and knack to charm a stranger, God granted him these traits in his core. Leaning into my classroom techniques, allow me to impart the lessons learned from my boy.

Unconditional love is day one in the parenthood syllabus. Having a child turns a switch on inside of a person that defies explanation. You feel more for another human than you could ever measure or easily place into words. But life with Nolan takes the topic to another level. Watching him protect, nurture, cheer and express love for his two sisters is a study onto itself. He gives his heart freely with no mercy to others who get in his way. They are two humans that will never have to worry if someone has their back, their big brother has that job covered for life.

As a small child Nolan began to flex his tremendous skill of having a never-ending memory. From knowing every type of whale or dinosaur to recalling random sports trivia, believe me his brain has unlimited space to store facts for future recollection. Yes, I wondered if recalling every breed of hog at age five for “show and tell” was really necessary, but he has taught me that this trait can lead to amazing opportunities. As a coach and mentor of young people, eliciting past situations, such as that one class of crossbred market hogs from five years ago, is a special skill. Having a knack to communicate the facts like they were happening in the moment is truly a talent. My memory stores large amounts of data, but I am not near as proficient as my son.

Life can be serious business. My son has taught me the importance of injecting a little fun into each and every job. Just like Mary Poppins when she cleverly persuades Jane and Micheal to tidy up the nursery. “In every job that must be done, there is an element of Fun, you find the Fun and snap and the job’s a game”, perfectly describes Nolan’s production mind set. Did you know that when the kids showed, there was always a football tucked into the tack box just in case a pop-up game needed to be scrimmaged? From funny voices, nick names, and made-up games, entertainment needs to be part of the chore process. Dr. Mafi probably was delighted when a sidetracked meat student turned a piece of fat into a hacky sack during a judging workout. Even when he was trying to sell me on a concept (the time he wanted to build a pond in the backyard) he presented me a Power Point with all the activities we would enjoy as a family from this body of water. And of course, he thought his sisters could just dig this hole with a couple of shovels.

This leads me to his unfaltering ability to dream. And dream big. Not the head in the clouds form of dreaming, but full visualization of the outcome already in play. Before I ever heard of the book The Secret and the law of attraction, a young Nolan Hildebrand was showcasing this talent. Countless times he would tell me how a situation was going to play out and low and behold his belief drew in the outcome. There was the time that he told me how his football team would win a big game. He imagined that they would be underdogs, but in the final seconds they would score and be victorious. Guess what, first game of his senior year Taft High School came to town. The game began as a one-sided grudge match with Templeton High School not holding the winning hand. But after a reworking of the game plan the tide began to turn. As the clock ticked down to the final seconds, they kicked a field goal to win the game. Imagine that?

Although his dreaming and unwavering beliefs have worried me for fear of his disappointment, I marvel at his steadfast approach to this discipline. Secretly I wish he applied his mind to work this way more often. From sending me the a photo of a lamb nursing his mom, and announcing he found his Grand Champion Market Lamb for California State Fair (and yes the lamb won) to proclaiming that five freshmen who would anchor his livestock judging team one season would all be crowned All American’s (they were), Nolan’s ability for attracting into reality his dreams is one of his most special gifts.

With an unlimited imagination and an uncanny belief system, the boy who loves to have fun, I would note focus as his number one signature strength. The baby that would sit and watch Disney movies so I could study, the boy who’s competitive nature is legendary and the man who can play 54 holes of golf a day, my son has shown an unlimited ability to focus. He has taught me that dedication to a task can be a motivator for success. Time gets lost in Nolan’s world. The prize at the end of path is the schedule keeper. His achievements can all be traced back to his keen sense to stay the course. Even when I am at my wits end with his tardiness, he just smiles and assures me that everything will be alright. The subject at hand takes first priority and keeps his full attention.

The final chapter of the Nolan lesson plan is the universal study of nature vs nurture. He has his father’s talent of working with his hands and his sharp sense of humor. Nolan has my emotional mindset and deep affection for music. But his genetic markings run so much deeper. His love of family and dedication to traditions stem from his Grandma Jo. He also inherited that wicked Miller worry gene, sorry about that one. From his mannerisms to his reciting of random movie lines reminds me of my brother John. The similarities between him and his god father do not stop there, he has never met a stranger and can carry on a conversation with ease with anyone, just like Johnny. To say he takes after his grandfathers in an understatement. His athletic skills and agriculture passions seem to be obvious, but I would argue a finer aptitude is present. His ability to impact young people’s lives is right out of my Dad and Bob Cummings’ playbook. In the classroom to the playing field, these men have encouraged generations of young people to be better versions of themselves. Watching Nolan follow in their footsteps and eliminate this gift, fills my heart with immeasurable joy. But the true tutorial of nurture is the similarities of my son and my stepbrother CRC. If you don’t believe me, just march them out to the barn and listen to them talk. Case closed.

Nolan may have been born on April Fools Day, but he is no ordinary fool. He is an extraordinary human. Proud to call him my son, is such a canned phrased. He is truly good in all the right places. Winning the son class with a ten point cut. Having found the yin to his yang in Sierra, together there is no mountain they can’t climb. I can’t wait to see what he does in the next thirty-three years. Rest assured his next big accomplishment is just a dream away.

“And even though we ain’t got money
I’m so in love with you, honey
And everything will bring a chain of love, oh, oh, oh
In the morning, when I rise
You bring a tear of joy to my eyes
And tell me everything is gonna be alright”

Happy Birthday NRH – Love You to the Moon & Back

April 1, 2025 1

Bowling Alley Wisdom 101

“The only person you are destined to become is the person you decide to be” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Have you ever been to a little kid’s birthday party at a bowling alley? The lanes are adorned with the insert of bumpers in the gutters. These barriers are incorporated to aid in keeping the players’ balls in line. Creating an actual boundary to guarantee that the game doesn’t break into another’s space. Wouldn’t it be grand if we could install giant, blow-up boundaries to protect ourselves from allowing our experiences to go off course?

History has a sneaky way of showing a pattern in need of a directional change. Completing Kayla’s birthday project reminded me of a similar project attempted many moons ago. Circa 2003, I discovered scrapbooking and the fact that I could print photos in my home office. After an inspirational moment shopping at the neighborhood craft store, walking out with not just one book, but the notion to complete four identical masterpieces. My subject matter was my grandmother Roberta. The queen to the kingdom, at least in the eyes of me, my brother Johnny and my cousins Kelly and Stacy. Visions of a poetic memento, complete with vintage photos, the plan was to complete as a Christmas surprise.

Guess what, I have yet to finish these little, gem filled keepsakes. Revisiting now and then over the years, efforts were attempted to complete, but with zero luck. As I wrote last time about my instant fear of completion, that feeling was grounded in this experience. Having the weight of all the people I dragged into Kayla’s surprise, gave witness to holding me accountable to getting the job done. Yet when I was left to my own self-governance, falling short was easy, project boxed up and stored away without anyone the wiser.

Inspired by my latest writing, the search was on to unearth this treasure from the past. There they were, four partly completed books (in various stages) tucked away with all the supplies in a clear container. Staying on course to my commitment to express gratitude, there is no denying my love of heritage, vintage keepsakes, and how I obtained the DNA that runs through my body. In a world that our roots struggle to get the opportunity to run deep in the soil we land upon, I am beyond blessed to say my family tree is firmly planted with generational ties that rival the forming of the local township. It is a special feeling to say, “My grandparents, parents, myself and all three of my children are Templeton High School graduates.” These is not a single thing that I would ever replace from the family my grandmother created.

The story is titled The Queen of Roblar and it is written in a simple four-line stanza, with each quatrain of the poem featured on a page. Sitting here, scanning my unfinished work, two thoughts run through my mind. One, more of this endeavor is finished than recalled. And the second is utter disappointment that 12 years later the task is not complete. In a period where accountability is a key component to success, be it performance reviews, schoolwork, or every customer survey that lands in our inbox daily, how do we evaluate ourselves?

Reading an article the other day that highlighted personal boundaries, a connection between governing oneself and setting up your own personal gutter “bumpers” for protection seem to make sense. Looking in the mirror and deciding what we will accept in ourselves, and others is not an easy task. And when that “bowling ball” crosses the lanes, how do we correct course?

The article noted two subjects I had never considered: time and intellectual boundaries. The concept of time fascinated me in ways that I could easily grasp and realize how much it defined my shortcomings. From how I have spent my moments over the years to allowing other’s demand of this limited good, examining the value of a healthy time boundaries seemed like a good place to start.

Teetering on placing too many tasks on my “plate” and allocating the importance of each item, the view began to become clearer on where the habit of boxing up valued ventures to return to later developed. You see, I spent a great deal of my life putting my professional life first (most of the time), ironically not because I was trying to climb some illusive achievement ladder. The habit was born from an inner need to do my very best at every duty embarked upon. Being an economist, the obvious lesson is that time is a limited resource. Yet I never treated it as a treasured commodity. Give me a good calendar and ability to plan and the belief was lets cram as much as possible into a single day. Check marking my way down the list. Was their joy from the accomplishments or was there pure exhaustion? The glory of the past 18 months of rediscovery is that when you have abundance of time, the pace teaches you the importance of how you spend every day.

Time for me today is about one thing in a moment, with three check marks on the “to dos” as a success. More is never better; pace is the constant. As I began to set boundaries unconsciously, accomplishments increased. No longer do I need to complete something all at once. If it takes a couple of day, or even weeks to have the plan come together, it is still a win. For once in my life, I recognize the value of every single minute, and I am starting to be stingy with how I spend this valuable asset and who gets the investment.

Intellectual boundaries have been a struggle I have battled internally for years. Not with regards to recognizing what are appropriate conversations, but in the sharing of my mind. Bordering on personal boundaries and the overly transparent philosophy I have adapted; I tend to give my knowledge freely. I watch others capitalize and develop successful businesses based on their skills. Yet here I am connecting people, helping them solve business issues, and sharing my thoughts and skills openly. Putting a value on what my intellectual knowledge is worth, is another huge quandary that I can’t even begin to tackle.

Has a solution been found? Not yet, but I can tell you that the first step is awareness. Allowing the little voice in your head the freedom to talk and keep the reminding alive. Being true to yourself is just as important as being honest with yourself. Neither is easy and both need to be practiced. Now that I have time that I can freely devote to my long-lost project, will I complete in the intention of what I imagined? The future holds that answer. The conscious act of self-protection is a new muscle I am learning to flex. Finding gratitude with the completion of even the smallest tasks adds value to my day and my brain power. Pretty soon I will be “bowling” bumper free.

A short insert of a few pages of The Queen of Roblar

Once upon a time
In a quiet country town
Lived a princess of a girl
With love of life profound

A farm was her castle
Amongst fields of hay
This land was her home
Working hard was part of the day

As time went by
The kingdom did grow
The princess blossomed too
Learning to bake and sew

Born the oldest
In a family of four
There were two princes
And one princess more

Reading and writing at
Oakdale school
The princess thought learning
Was so very cool

As the years went by
More lads in the land
All wanting to take
The princess by the hand

The princess found her prince
In a frog named Miller
She knew in her heart
That the king would kill her

The note on the wall
A love story it told
As they ran to Nevada
To say “to have and to hold”

March 25, 2025 0

Lessons Learn from a Simple Note

“Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.” – William Wordsworth

For the past six weeks, I have been keeping a secret. Better yet let’s call it a major surprise, that tied perfectly into my last blog post. The challenge was not to “spill the beans” while I wrote and fingers crossed the many I tied into the task, kept their lips sealed as time ticked closer to “D Day”. Or should we say “B Day”?

My daughter Kayla turned thirty last week. Early one January morning I got an idea. Those that have worked with me know that me walking in on a daily basis with the phrase, “I have an idea” is not earth shattering news. This one began with a simple thought and grew into mountain to climb with a tight deadline ticking down daily. The brainchild was a gift to my daughter that would showcase the first thirty years of her life. A creation of memories and messages from her first 10,950 days, featuring her family, friends and special loved ones from near and far.
My natural tendency is to have an idea, allowing zero time to percolate before putting the plan into action. My thoughts that early morning, while waiting to board a plane to Reno, moved like the speed of light. Before a second idea could enter my mind, the wheels were in motion as I sent out a group text to dozens of family and friends. My request while rehashing my vision, was simple please send me a handwritten note wishing Kayla a Happy Birthday. I was open to them also sharing special photos they may have of the celebration girl, but what I longed for was that piece of paper with pen marks that makes each of them special to her life.

As I woke up the next morning, instant panic hit me of the enormous task laying ahead. What was I thinking, thirty years of memorabilia to rediscover, organize and neatly sum up in a book? Over the past three decades we have moved from old fashion film, digital cameras and today’s photo capturing device of choice, our cell phone. Inputting the pictures alone would require scans, downloads, uploads and never ending edits. As I sat in my hotel room, I figured I needed a plan and fast. On my side were a few things, I have organized items for each child in a single clear container, Shutterfly had been my photo creation device of choice for at least two decades, therefore housed numerous uploaded photos and the simple fact that I opened this Pandora’s Box with a large number of my contacts, there was no turning back. Laptop in hand, I typed Shutterfly into the search bar, and the first step was taken in a very long journey.

Over the next four weeks there was the gentle balance between feelings of great accomplishment to overwhelming piles of photos, page counts and hunting down letters. The final statistics include one book, 78 pages, filled with 332 photos and 21 letters. I included her birth announcement, a few of her first birthday cards from special relatives no longer with us (complete with their signature), a poem written by her 5^th grade teacher, a newspaper article/photo and her ultrasound image.

I am grateful for the challenge and the reminder of the value of the written word. Large projects can be a doubled edge sword for me to complete. I get caught between constant inspiration to falling down a rabbit hole of chasing ideas, thus turning minutes into extended hours. Funny thing was that while I waited for the letters to come in, I would be setting up the page of the person writing to Kayla. And every single time, the photos I had inserted fell write into step with words in the letter. The words became the irreplaceable star in the production. And I began to notice this continued theme in recent days.

Assigning my students the chore of writing “thank you” notes to speakers, there was the bright light again taking center stage. Their kind words reflected the appreciation of the time the guest spent sharing their story while inspiring ideas of future career possibilities. And just this week while applying to teach yet another class, I had the opportunity to read letters of recommendation for yours truly. The written word is a wonderful reminder of where we thrive, find enjoyment and touch others. Maybe we do need to read how others feel about us, now and then, as a gentle reminder of our importance in this solar system.

In a world where we hear the words AI daily or communicate through emojis and acronyms, let me just express one more time how important connecting to each other makes life worth living. AI cannot compose a handwritten note that expresses your emotions, experiences and genuine caring of another person. Another lesson I embraced during these exercises, the net you cast over the amount of people you touch is much larger and stronger than you may ever realize. From hearing a story from a special aunt, to thanking a guest speaker or even having a former student recount the impact you had on their career path, there are countless individuals that you have touched over the course of your years.

So here is my challenge to all that may read this message. Choose three people that have touched your life; 1) that is near to you on a day-to-day basis, 2) someone who you truly value but don’t connect with near enough and 3) someone that impacts/ impacted your life. Next write them a note from your heart, length isn’t important, it’s the thought that counts. Of course, I would prefer you to use paper and pen but will settle with any formal form of communication. I freely admit, we aren’t all great writers like Wordsworth, but if I can squeeze 21 notes out of the cast of characters for Kayla’s gift, you all can take the time to connect with three humans over the next few weeks.

We have heard the question, what is your love language? I am beginning to believe that mine may be the written word. After my last blog a couple of my friends and I even joked about forming a note writing club, similar to a book club. Where we could meet once a month, drink wine and write to others. Honestly the more I think of the concept, the greater the possibility becomes reality. Even across distances this feat could be achieved. Holding each other accountable to developing our new correspondence habit.

In the words of Emily Post, “Never think because you cannot write a letter easily, that it is better not to write at all. The most awkward note imaginable is better than none.” Take my challenge, share your gratitude and compose away. Maybe, just maybe, we are one card away from starting a writing revolution?

March 12, 2025 1

You’ve Got Mail

This piece of writing is dedicated to my good pal Serena. The one who excels in written correspondence, be it an inspirational note, thank you card, or that special occasion garland.

“I love writing thank you notes. There’s something very nostalgic to me about the feel of a card and putting pen to paper. How many times in our lives are we required to put pen to paper anymore?” – Taylor Swift

Continuing my quest to show gratitude, I have a deep affection for pen, paper and handwritten words. From my grandmothers’ recipe cards to shuffling through years of celebration stationary received, Taylor hits the nail on the head when she states there is something nostalgic about putting pen to paper. In an ever-evolving world that doesn’t require one to write much more than their signature (and that is scarce at times) I am truly grateful I was raised in a time of cursive writing in school and finding some inner peace with a pad of paper and pencil.

I must admit that writing thank you notes is not my superpower. I recall reading an article decades ago of how Princess Diana would take time to hand write notes on her personal stationary. I marveled at her commitment to the task and deep downed wished I possessed that drive. She famously answered many of the 47,000 letters of congratulation and 10,000 gifts when just 21 years old for her and Prince Charles wedding in 1981. Woman’s World, reported that she insisted that both Prince William and Prince Harry write letters to thank anyone who helped them because she “wanted to ingrain a sense of appreciation into her two sons” A tradition worthy of passing down to the next generation. What an incredible skill to achieve. The art of penmanship is slowing slipping through our fingers.

Me, well I am more of a collector of all thing’s correspondence. At any given time, I have stacks of colorful paper, witty greeting cards, decades old thank you notes and a never-ending supply of writing instruments. In a world filled with text message, emojis, emails and even acronyms what has happen to the written word? And can taking the time to be the author flex a muscle in your brain of thought and wonder? This past September I decided to do a little experiment of my own on the true power of a little old fashion communication.

What was the theory of this research? Unsure how the statement would read, but it included reaching out to four friends, with a handwritten note for absolutely no reason at all. Truth be told, I was measuring the “boomerang” effect, how quickly would the message reach the recipient and make its way back to me in a form of receipt confirmation. Jacky’s writing experiment official hypothesis: “The written word will serve as a catalyst for inspiring organic communication among individuals.”

The specimens were four longtime friends and the instruments were simple greeting cards.

Three of the four cards had only a message on the front, leaving the inside wide open for written word.

“The world is full of idiots, except us, we’re awesome”

“I miss your sweet ass”

“Dear Diary, Today my friends invited me to go camping so I made a list of things I will need 1. New Friends”

“We should do a podcast of us drinking and laughing.”

(inside) “They would love us”.

(Side note, my card collection is very much like my organization containers, I never just buy one. If I find a card that lights up my soul, I purchase multiple copies.)

My friends selected in order of the cards were Tisha (we have an inside credo of being relentlessly awesome), Shawna (the card had two friends walking on a beach and we talk during our daily walks, just 2,215 miles apart), Serena (she finds just about anything I say funny) and Brandy, for obvious reasons, we think we can find humor with or without a glass of bubbles in hand. Next, I took the time to hand write a note that filled every inch of the blank canvas the document offered. Sharing my value of each of them in my life and a few special words that could connect us even though we were miles apart. Finally, I addressed the parcels of written word and placed them in the mail. The date was Friday, August 30 and the location was Las Vegas, Nevada. All the cards were sent to addresses in California. Now to wait for my results.

My first response arrived via a text six days later. As expected, Serena, not only was the first to respond, but delivered a sweet text complete with a photo of the card. The outcome of the rest of the experiment was truly up for grabs. Life and work events, punctuality of getting daily mail and communication styles made the guessing game ridiculously hard to call. Low and behold, the text sound chimed three days later. Shawna, my best friend since first grade, received her handwritten note. Brandy text a few days later with a sweet thank you and Tisha called which turned into one of our hour-long chats. (I have shared all their responses for your enjoyment, hopefully they grant me this latitude.)

The outcome proved that my original notion was true. Old fashion, deliberate acts of reaching out with the written word have a more profound effect on a soul than our constant cyber chatter. Let’s be honest, how many emails and texts do you ignore a day? Better yet, isn’t just easier to let that call go to voice mail? But a piece of mail is hard not to open and read.

I am grateful for my handwriting skills and my knack for communicating thoughtfully with pen and paper. Being the ultimate “but, what if” girl I can’t help but wonder if a rebirth of this sacred art form is within reach. But what if we took a “note” from Princess Di and shared with the younger generation the importance of writing. Be it a letter, a story, or a simple thank you note. Who knows a trend for the ages could just be signature away.

“You can make anything by writing” – C.S. Lewis

February 25, 2025 0

Getting My Gratitude in Order

“A place for everything, everything in its place” – Benjamin Franklin

Gratitude can be embraced across multiple subject matters on a daily basis. From special people to basic needs, we all cherish gratefulness in our own special way. Our move in December has me spending my “free” time finding a place for everything. The chore extends beyond the basic process of opening a cupboard, plopping the item inside and shutting a door. I yearn for the tranquility that is found within a very organized compartment.

Ask my mom, and she would say that my fascination with order began at an early age. Don’t get me wrong, my bedroom could be a complete and total disaster but open a drawer and you were instantly transported into a portal of logical nirvana. Two basic components shaped the state of my living space, my love to sort things and having the time to devote to the project. I could transcribe thousands of words depicting the dance my mother and I would compose of me moving every content of my room into the hall to establish order. All the while she would be on the other end scoping up piles of papers (very neatly organized and created into files) into garbage bags. Oh the index card boxes, binders, color-coded paper doll clothes and the memories of nonsense.

Grateful for the art of organization and the feeling of peace it radiates. I am truly thankful for a lifetime of becoming proficient in the skill. Let’s be honest, I am not going to star in my own reality TV show on HGTV, nor publish that best-selling novel titled, “Getting Your Act Together is Only a Container Away.” Yet having the time and blank canvas, my routine in this household “sport” has taught me a few tricks to find success in the final product. Keeping with my gratitude 2025 pledge, allow me to share my blog on how to achieve an orderly cupboard.

Simplicity – Consistency – Uniformity

The basis to my method is keep it simple, stay consistent (both in look and putting your items away) and establish a uniform look, feel and product. Lesson number one. It is unrealistic to tackle it all at once. Not only will it overwhelm your brain but damage your pocketbook. Start small. Choose a shelf or a drawer. Tackle a space that you can easily empty to the foundation. Joy can be found in a clean bare space. Less is more and the progress will snowball faster than your imagination.

Example – The kitchen drawer that houses baggies, foil, plastic wrap, etc can easily look over crowded and in disarray. One day while shopping I discovered bamboo holders for these items at Costco. Why not give this a try? (Hint I am in deep admiration of bamboo containers) I went home emptied the drawer, took the contents out of the worn out cardboard and re-homed all into the new holders. Instant transformation was gained. One small step for the kitchen, one giant step for order in the home.

Second piece of advice, search for bargains or items not necessarily created for home order. Organization can be a very pricey endeavor to get your space looking tidy. I have learned to be patient with the chore and pace my spending. My go to locations are Home Goods, Amazon, and every clearance shelf found in my neighborhood store. Using coupons and promotions (Kohls bucks or birthday bonuses) embrace these opportunities to invest in a few new items. Even consider cleaning out empty food jars and saving for use in the future. (I keep ours in a small clear plastic container in the garage) My office is filled with sorted pens, highlighters, pencils, and notable desk staples housed in old condiment jars.

Example – One of my favorites and most versatile pieces in a little green box found on the entry shelves when walking into Target. A spring time décor piece, the six compartment, wooden treasure cost a whopping $3 and fits perfect in a bathroom drawer to house make-up.

Now that you know where to shop, what is my purchasing secret? Buy in multiples of two or three. Find a cool basket, that classic glass jar or the perfect bamboo tray, get more than one. Maybe it is my math-oriented mind, yet the balance of space elevates the cleansing process. Lining a shelf with the same canister adds style. Try this technique with baskets too. To get daring try this method not only horizontally, but vertically. Height is a game changer for a visual space.

Example – My home is filled with this technique. From baskets to glass jars, I dare you to open a cupboard and not discover this action in motion.

Finally, to hit that organizational high, take items out of their original packaging and place in a container. Yes, this seems like more work, but honestly it just becomes habit. This one practice has been a major game changer for me. Throwing out boxes and placing items in permanent containers, not only mellows the space but preserves your food. I even discovered these nifty bed sheet holders on Amazon, talk about cleaning up a linen closet. Tidy yes, but more importantly you can easily find complete sheet sets in a blink of an eye.

Example – They say a picture is worth a thousand words, check out my examples below.

During my organization journey, keeping it simple, consistent and uniform has been the key to my success. Grabbing my cell for a quick internet search, has proven there is a method or tool to tidy up EVERYTHING. A label maker is a handy investment to take your work to the next level. Trying new pieces are great, just make sure that returns are easy and effortless, in case the fit or use don’t make the cut.

Maybe I have adapted these habits, because I can squirrel more stuff away than the furry creatures that house nuts for the winter. True confession, the joy created in my new pantry has made me consider posting a “keep out” sign to those that could disrupt the order. I can’t begin to express the happiness experienced when I hid the toaster away in the basket under the bread box. No cord hanging out, no crumbs laying around, and both pieces purchased with reward funds from Pottery Barn and Kirklands. Pure bliss. How can one not be grateful? Who knows what new cool sorting device I will unearth or space waiting to be rearranged in the next 365 days. It simply will be a consistent, uniform approach to order.

February 12, 2025 0

Choosing the Right Door

“If it’s not easy or effortless, it is the wrong door.”

In keeping with my vow to celebrate gratitude in 2025, I’ve realized that gratefulness can come in many different forms. Jotting down some thoughts the other day, I wrote, “I am grateful for my problem-solving ability.” An unexercised muscle this past year, it is not only a gift but also a keen knack to change my perception. For years, I have developed this gift, much like a bodybuilder on an extreme regimen at the gym. I placed myself in a career path that nurtured these opportunities like a cherished crop. The most important lesson I learned wasn’t that there is literally “more than one way to skin a cat,” but that sometimes a gut feeling and time can serve as a remedy too.

If you know me, you’ve heard many of my Jackyisms: “Make good choices,” “If it doesn’t matter in five years, it doesn’t matter now,” and the infamous “You’re killing me, Smalls” (yes, I borrowed that one). But for the year 2025, my mantra is simply, “If it’s not easy or effortless, it is the wrong door.” The other day I shared my newfound philosophy with a friend and was reminded, ironically, this course of thinking goes against the grain of what we are conditioned to believe. Hard work, breaking boundaries, and building from past defeats are what make us stronger. If the journey isn’t bumpy, how do we know it is successful?

Don’t get me wrong, we must experience failures to truly enjoy the successes. I get it. But haven’t you ever been in a situation, making a decision or trying to climb that metaphoric mountain, and felt like landmines were everywhere? It was time to cut your losses and head back to base camp. Your emotions were drained, your insides were wrecked, and the thought of one more attempt would simply break you to the core.

I truly believe, after much reflection, that you were trying to walk through the wrong door. Not every exit is as simple as turning around and shutting that journey’s door. But, what if you take a step back and just take a breath? It isn’t admitting defeat; it’s realigning your compass back to your true path. Honestly, haven’t you ever felt like you were beating your head against a wall trying to solve a problem? With every step forward, you fell two steps back. Frustration and negative energy filled your vibes, and nothing was accomplished. It isn’t your lack of trying; you are just knocking on the wrong door. Maybe that is why it isn’t being answered?

Rewiring our brain to use positive vibes to accept a choice might be harder to develop into a new behavior. Connecting our heart and emotions to our head and logic—how silly does that sound? In my attempt to be grateful and cherish the gifts I have been born with, I am leaning into this thought process aggressively. In the past, I was the first one to jump on an opportunity without even considering its true value. Instead of over-applying my problem-solving skill, why not allow time and good vibes to guide the process?

Have you ever felt a situation before it happened? My grandma would call that a “gut feeling.” I once read that making a decision should feel right with both your mind and your heart. Think of that balance: if your heart is screaming at you to do something, but your mind is ticking off all the reasons this is a bad idea… let’s face it, it’s the wrong door. Remember Mad Libs, as you went through the plot you chose the word or direction? State a verb, a noun, and you were off into your story. Try choosing your next move using all your internal senses instead of jumping in full throttle. How does the right choice feel—easy and effortless? Simply stated, I am throwing out anything that is negative, as they say, focusing on good vibes only.

Last spring, we weren’t sure what our next move would be with our professional and personal lives. Did we need to journey toward the west coast, find a new path? Nothing felt like the right move. And then one day, while driving to a women’s water polo conference finals in Bloomington, Indiana, a call came. For the next hour, Tod talked to a recruiter he had met years earlier. The first question he asked was, “Are you still in Louisville? Because I have a job that is perfect for your talents.” By the time we checked into our hotel, we had the job announcement, and I was sitting at the lobby computer printing out what would soon become the “right door.” Every step was easy, the pace of the process was swift, without an obstacle along the path. When Tod would look at me and say, “I am sure there are other great candidates,” my reply was always, “Nope, this is too easy and effortless; you are going to get this opportunity.” And low and behold, within a couple of weeks, he was named the new Athletic Director at Indiana University Southeast. And we moved across the river to become the newest citizens of Sellersburg, Indiana.

Should tasks be filled with an overwhelming need to problem solve? What good comes from listening to glass-half empty thinkers? Absolutely nothing. I am not naïve to the fact that bad days will happen and negative bumps will appear in my path, but let’s minimize them at all cost. My new tool in my problem-solving chest is simply to listen to my inner self. Using the easy and effortless measurement device and not being afraid to give tough situations time to visually show a direction. Yes, I am very grateful for my skills that I was born with and those I have developed over time. Maybe someday I will even solve my dilemma on how to get myself to write more often. Pretty positive it is the easy and effortless method behind an undiscovered door.

January 28, 2025 0

Same Time Next Year

“Which is more important,” asked Big Panda, “the journey or the destination?” “The company,” said Tiny Dragon

Being a creature of habit, the ringing in of the New Year emanates thoughts of anew and the overwhelming urge to write in my blog. But something felt different these past few weeks. Like picking up where I left off was no longer an option, it wasn’t just a new year, but a rebirth of a sense of purpose.

Any good annual goal should be measurable. Have I been successful over the past decade with my annual expression to the universe? Curiosity in my corner, the exploration into my past writings was a click away. Believe it or not, A Little Bit About a lot of Things is about to celebrate its 13^th birthday. With a total of 73 posts, 17,645 views and over 8,500 visitors, I knew my efforts weren’t chart topping. Just shy of 65,000 written words, which is just 15,000 words short of the average length of most fictional novels. (Wait, stop, are you saying, that I am on the verge of a completing book?) Thoughts of actually jumping off the diving board into that “big” writing project I so secretly dreamed about often, didn’t seem so scary.

Focus became key and my mind had to be glued to completing the task at hand; finding out if I have stayed true to a quest over the past 13 years? I needed more data. Guess what, Tuesdays seem to be my most prolific day to publish. And as expected, from January 2014 to present day, post Christmas to early in the new year, is the sweet spot for success in completing an entry with a grand total of eleven postings. The reasons behind the popularity was simple, the time of year.

My birthday is January 5, the combination of the celebration and kicking off a fresh chapter in the calendar playbook, makes the perfect recipe for fresh ideas, upbeat goals and visions of anything is possible. And low and behold I stayed true to course over time. Change, hope, stretching outside of comfort zone, process and glass half full mantras graced my written work. And lets not forget in January of 2019 when I based an entire blog off of math https://alittlebitaboutalotofthings.com/2019/01/05/math-doesnt-lie-the-key-to-accomplishing-your-annual-aspirations/ or in 2018 when I created a playlist https://alittlebitaboutalotofthings.com/2018/01/16/2018-a-time-to-grove/ .

They say focusing on the past isn’t healthy, but I learned a few lessons rereading my work. In 2014, I was all about being present, which I can honestly say has been an unplanned premise this past year. I didn’t have a choice but to be present I had nothing but the day ahead. And trust me I’m a person that loves to look forward to something, may I remind you of my love of travel? Having time on my hands and an empty appointment book gave way to taking time to plan adventures. It was a conscious act that I spent hours and endless energy to create destinations. This included spending stints with people that I am truly grateful for in my life, making memories and being in the moment took unexpected forms. From carefully planned trips, like our journey to California in June that I wrote about, to my last minute jaunt on the featured fair tour in Idaho that concluded with a special breakfast with my Grandma Darlene, each destination fueled my fire and boosted my energy.

In 2015, I wrote a prescription as my New Year’s resolution. https://alittlebitaboutalotofthings.com/2015/01/03/begin-again-please-dont-see-just-a-girl-caught-up-in-dreams-and-fantasies/#more-97 One of my “doses” was allow for change. For as long as I can recall I have internally thought if I could just have one or two weeks off to be at home and get my life in order things would be better. You know that underlying feeling of needing rest, checking off that household “to-do” list and just having a little me time. Well, I am living proof it takes way longer than two weeks.

At first, I struggled with the down time. The change was beyond something I felt able to lean into. I was tired. Physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted. Time and patience were the key to healing. Neither one of them are my signature strengths. As the summer months gave way to fall, I began to spring forth with new bud growth from the metamorphosis. Like the caterpillar becoming a lovely butterfly, I grew new wings and shed off a few thousand burden legs. The byproducts of my healing are evident in my everyday life. My cupboards have never been more organized. I made holiday crafts for the first time in decades. And my status is with United is at an all time high. I allowed for change and in return I found missing parts of my old self.

Yet one of my favorite posts was titled “One Decade at a Time” published January 5, 2017. If you know me, you know I love my birthday. I think we all should celebrate from the roof tops on our special day, because without it you wouldn’t be walking upright. Age has never been a big deal to me, except when I can channel it for an excuse for an even grander celebration. Pointing out significant milestones that were made by people at older ages, you get instantly inspired to go out accomplish any goal, maybe even write a novel? Reading it reminded me that turning 58 really isn’t that big a deal. Not that I really thought it was, like I said, to me age is just a number. It also prompted me to start planning something epic for the big 60. Maybe a trip to Italy?

As for 2025, I have spent some time truly thinking about my annual manifesto. Don’t get me wrong I still believe and embrace all my past idealism and plans, but this year I am only assigning myself one task. To be grateful. Grateful for all the little things in my life but most importantly for the people in my world. Why be present, if not to enjoy time with someone special? And change is prompted many times by the entrance or the exit of individuals in our world. In a world filled with texts, emails, videos, and countless non present forms of communication, I embrace the importance of having actual humans in one’s days. People are as essential to our life as air and water.

One simple word, gratitude will be all that I strive for in 2025. Yes,the journey can be fun and the destination may turn out better than expected, but none of it truly matters without the company.

2025 I am grateful for my family, especially my parents and my fabulous children, Nolan, Kayla and Lilly. I am grateful that each of them has found someone who thinks they are just as amazing as I do. I am grateful my friends, the ones I talk to often and the ones who are there even in the silence space. And I am grateful for Tod and Louie, the little nuclear family that greets me every morning with hope of a joyful day.

January 14, 2025 0

Sit Right Here & Have Another Seltzer in Cincinnati

Lessons Learned at a Kenny Chesney Concert

“Which road I travel is still a mystery to me.” – Kenny Chesney

In my early days as a bright-eyed, eager fair employee, one of my duties was making sure the queen and her court accomplished their daily check list of appearances. Wrangling three bubbling, enthusiastic, crown baring young ladies had its challenges. Lets just say that not all their actions screamed sugar and spice and everything nice. But thanks to one of the most inappropriate requests, I had my first encounter with Kenny Chesney.

A budding country star that opened the show for Alabama in July of 1996, Kenny was straight off his album cover complete with felt hat and blue jeans. As he exited the stage one of princesses boldly ask if he would sign her chest (well more like the skin right above her chest bone.) He bashfully, yet eagerly accepted the request with black sharpie in hand, made a few pleasantries with the girls and continued his journey to the backstage compound. Little did any of us realize that this 27 year old crooner would become a country mega star crossing genres and taking generations to the sand and sea, if only in their mind’s escape.

Fast forward a few more years and Kenny hits had multiplied and landed him a gig on the Headliner Stage. If you have ever watched his video Just Don’t Happen Twice much of the footage is straight from the Biggest Little Fair Anywhere, complete with bungee thrill ride outtake. I am not sure if it is my early memories, his love of island life or the way his songs seem too resonant in a way that always makes you stop and think or touch a moment in time and evoke a feeling that these lyrics were written just for you, my appreciation for his talents has stood the test of time. To say I am fan would be an understatement. But, I am not a big concert goer, the idea of hanging out with a population of people that could fill a small town doesn’t ring “good time” to me. Yet, I have had a bee in bonnet to see Kenny for quite some time. Taking to my box of fair memorabilia, I discovered that the last time I heard these tunes live was in 2003. As a matter of fact that was the time, I was offered a margarita backstage by his tour manager who had set up an island, tropical bar in one of the semi-trailers, oh the good ole days. No Shoes Nation was calling my name and an adventure awaited right around the corner.

Living in Kentucky one of the true advantages is location, location, location. Checking his concert schedule there were multiple locations within a two hour drive to spend some time with the boy from Tennessee. A week out from the show in Cincinnati, I pushed the purchase button for a night we won’t soon forget.

The venue was perfect, I happen to purchase Club Level seats which not only offered us restroom and bar access, but a terrace of patio furniture that ended up being our seats for the night. So much of the evening flooded my mind with memories of the years in the business and how every night is a new adventure, challenge to tackle and tunes to sing along. Case in point we had a small weather delay, as I witness the staff ushering the concert goers off the floor for a brief stay under cover, I thought this place has great customer service. Opening additional concession stands, offering seating in a “dead” space behind the stage, and giving frequent updates, you could easily tell this wasn’t their first rodeo. As a crew member climbed to the top the stage roof to “sweep” off the accumulation of water, I was mesmerized of his lack of fear and the show must go on attitude. Our resident usher Roger had worked the area for many years and told us to stay in our lounge chairs as our location was perfect. Finally, Megan Moroney came out as cute as a button, blonde hair blowing, and smile as bright as the peach dress she was wearing. She made it through one song when she announced that her white cowboy boots weren’t cutting in on the wet stage floor and decided to go barefoot for the remainder of her set. The No Shoes Nation attitude was alive and well to kick off the evening.

And speaking of white cowboy boots, when did they start being the number one accessory for concert going young ladies? As I watched the line of them standing briefly in front of me, I couldn’t help but think of a Miller family tale. And as Kennys’ songs tend to tell stories of the past, there is a very entertaining episode involving my Uncle Merle, Aunt Diana, Uncle Rod and my mom that could start out, “A fashionable, young lady awaited her date to pick her up for a western themed Cal Poly dance wearing white majorette boots. And end with Merle watched his siblings wrestling over brown shoe polish and his sisters cowboy boots, completely awe stuck.” But that is a yarn for another time.

As the sun that briefly came back to set in the west, Kenny magically appeared and turned the crowd into an echo machine singing every word along with him for the next few hours. The evening was the perfect recipe of fun, faith, and leaving your worries behind. As I danced around displaying my wonderful vocal ability (not), I realized how many songs this man has actually released. Furthermore, how many of these melodies have a message that we could all use now and then, regardless if we are on an island or sitting in the middle of downtown Cincinnati. Music for me has always been the soundtrack of your life with different volumes to represent your very own eras. Developing a life lesson playlist exclusive to Kenny Chesney’s library of songs seems like a good keepsake of the evening. I am sure you have your favorites, but here is a few to get your collection of hits started.

First off if you are looking for that kick back, vacation, toes in the sand tune, Kenny has these for hours of listening. He also has many great lyrics that celebrate where you are from, your childhood and lifelong friends. But with the goal to get your thinking and feeling inspired in a positive way, I am going to start off with a couple that won’t fail your listening ears.

1 – Get Along – #Micdrop right here. Whether it is turning on the evening news or cruising your go-to social media platform, the amount of distress and upheaval across this planet is epic. The chorus points out no one is perfect, love triumphs all, action helps the mind, friendship is important and in the end “Can’t we all get along?”

2 – Here and Now – When this song began mid-set, I sent myself a text saying, “What Kayla and I are planning, Here and Now.” My daughter Kayla and I did what some would think crazy or silly, we went halfway across the nation for 48 hours so that we could spend the 4th of July with her brother and sister. For Kayla and I there was nowhere else in this world, there was no better place or better time. How often do we dwell on an event from the past or worry about the future, listen to Kenny’s words instead. “Everybody’s waiting, but they’re waiting on what? Better get to living ‘cause all we’ve got is here and now.” Why wait for tomorrow, for what we can enjoy today?

3 – I Go Back – Don’t be accusing me of contradicting my second choice. Maybe it was the era I grew up, maybe it was that I come from a small town, or it just could be that I am a big ole dreamer, but this song makes me relive so many fabulous memories. Actually, for me, this song is one of the reasons I wanted to go home for the 4th of July. I got to hang with my best friend since first grade Shawna, my mom tried to recreate the meal my grandma would prepare complete with homemade potato salad and fresh strawberries and homemade whip cream, and wondering the streets of Templeton with my kids and landing on Fourth Street with the Tucker/ Hammers crew was the quint essential firework to my celebration. “We all have a song that somehow stamped our lives, Takes us to another place and time”, I dare you to listen to this song and not have flashbacks of happiness.

4 – Never Wanted Nothing More – “Well I’m what I am and I’m what I’m not, I’m sure happy with what I’ve got, I live to love and laugh a lot, And thats all I need” How many of us can truly say we live this mantra everyday? How many of us know we should? Being true to yourself might be the toughest task for anyone to actual accomplish. And each generation tackles more and more hurdles to get the finish line of self love. Think about it, today’s young minds have influencers who are an overstated example of what we think is neat and nifty. Reducing the clutter from our feeds, life, minds and world may help us all get that big hug from inside. I mean, seriously, being truly happy with who you are and what you got, one would never want nothing more.

5 – American Kids – A little messed up, but we’re all alright. Please raise your hand if this applies to you? All of you with your hands in your pockets, I call BS. The grass isn’t greener, no one has a perfect life, everyone has their demons and guess what according to Kenny we’re all alright. This is also one of those catchy group of lyrics that you can’t help but sing outloud while your feet can’t stop moving.

6 – I’m Alive – “Today’s the first day of the rest of your life and I am alive and well.” Think about the first eight words, no truer lyric has ever been sung. Sometimes we need to stop and remember we are alive, and the future is all that really matters. Even if you have had the worst day or roughest go of it, breaking it down to the simplest form and realizing that every day you are alive is something to be grateful. I am a big birthday person. I don’t get why people belly ache about getting older or making a big deal about “your day.” The way I look at it is, your birthday is the most important day of your life. Without it, you wouldn’t be alive and well!

7 – Save it for a Rainy Day – This tune reminds me of a song by Lit called Zip Lock. The main theme was to put a second chance in a zip lock bag and keep it in your pocket. Great concept. Kenny reminds us that even if we are bummed out about life, that we can take that downer and store it away for a rainy day. Sun’s too bright and sky’s too blue, go out and live your life with hope that tomorrow is yet another glowing day that won’t allow those rainy day blues to enter your world.

8 – Don’t Blink – Every morning I have adopted my own zen/ gratitude/ happy thoughts routine. Maybe someday I will blog about my system, but in the meantime, let me share one component. I read a chapter from of 1000 + Little Things Happy Successful People Do Differently. The other day it stated, “Do you remember that time five years ago when you were extremely upset? Does it really matter now?” As I read, a grin appeared on my face. Was this my own words being stated back at me? I would say to my college students, “The five year, if it doesn’t matter in five years does it matter now?” Don’t blink takes the five year rule and puts it in reverse. If it is going to matter in five years we better take time in the present to enjoy, celebrate and embrace those moments. Trust me friend a hundred years goes faster than you think, so don’t blink.

9 – Everything’s Gonna Be Alright – “Tell me something good that I don’t know,’cause this world’s been kicking my behind.” We all have days that we would rather climb back in bed and start it over again tomorrow. One of my all time favorite people Mrs. Treva Roth taught me many moons ago a phrase, “This too shall pass.” And no truer statement has ever been shared. When life keeps throwing you lemons, take a pause because there ain’t no doubt it’s gonna work out. Just ask Kenny, I am sure he would agree, everything’s gonna be alright.

10 – Live A Little – “Been going like nothing can wait, I gotta get my priorities straight.” These words are the perfect closing song that encompasses the entire list into one thought, live a little, love a lot. Take time for yourself, make sure to schedule some fun and find love. What more do we need prescribed for healthier lifestyle?

As he closed the show with two of my all time favorites from his hit list, Anything But Mine and Just Don’t Happen Twice, I was beyond happy that we decided to go on this quest to the Blue Chip City. My energy level on a joyful high, we made our way back to our hotel. Walking the streets in the dark, quiet forest of skyscrapers, my mind was swirling with the buzz of my inner thoughts and the play back from tonight’s show. We can all take a few lessons from the words that Kenny shares with his fans through his melodies and more. What is so wrong with going barefoot, anyway? At the very least we can put our toes in the sand, leave our worries behind and let the warm air melt our blues away.

July 12, 2024 0