The Haasienda on Shroyer…

“Now, don’t you call Diana’s baby, ‘Derwood.’ That’ll sound like you are making fun of him.”

Aunt Norma admonished her young children from referring to me with the nickname used by Endora for her son-in-law on the much-beloved television show, BEWITCHED, which had premiered the evening of my birth in September 1964.

Through the years, the cousins seemed to forget the challenge of using the nickname, but Aunt Norma never stopped calling me, “Derwood.”

Aunt Norma was my maternal grandfather’s younger sister who was full of life, filled with tons of laughter and mischief, and always a heart capable of loving the most unlovable of souls.  Throughout her life, Aunt Norma had tremendous struggles on a number of levels but she certainly had the capacity to overcome them.

I was blessed with wonderful great-uncles and great-aunts, siblings or in-laws to my grandparents, but I think even they would agree Aunt Norma was a class act, an act that was, and probably always will be the most unique of loving and lovable souls.

Thank you, Aunt Norma, for all your unwavering love and always, always, always, your tremendous sense of humor and laughter.

Know you are loved….

My mother with our cousin, Gary, and our Aunt Norma (right).

My office staff, consisting of mostly Clyde, and sometimes Neko, has disappeared this morning.

They first began their day in the study and must have figured out it’s Saturday.

Ahhh… I hear them running up and down the basement steps.

All is well with the world.

MIAGD: Make it a great day

When I officially opened my eyes to begin my Saturday at 7:45 AM the most gorgeous sunrise had painted the world around me.

Thank heavens I captured what I could from my bedroom window for by the time I’d reached the deck below the colors and changed and a passing cloud obscured the sunshine.

Sometimes we want to wait. “Let’s see if we can figure more out about the situation.”

That’s okay.

Sometimes we simply need to take a moment and own it.

Many times have we allowed things to slip through out fingers because we did not wrap our fingers around it when it was resting in our palms?

I’ve been there. You’ve been.

Sometimes we cannot afford the time to wait and must act with a degree of impulsivity.

We never know what’s around the bend. That’s when we need faith in ourselves and maintain our confidence in the world around us.

Go, Ye, therefore and capture the moment when it’s at hand and make it a great day.

MIAGD: Make it a great day

The dogs are in anxiety mode and The Boys (Neko and Clyde) could actually care less that I’m off and out the door for my Me Friday.

While I was in the shower Clyde was hammering out some Coltrane or Schoenberg on he electric piano which is being replaced by a brand new 88-weighted key Korg.

Off to my writing cove, lunch, more cove time, rush home to change clothes, back down down at The Schuster for LITTLE WOMEN.

You can bet I’m making it a great day on my Me Friday!

You do the same.

The boys seem both eager and could-care-less about my departure.

MIAGD: Make it a great day

My very astute and productive assistant, Clyde, is hard at work, this morning.

Mr. Clyde has:

• Eaten
• Gone to the litter box
• Moved the near-empty water bowl over to the sink
• Fought with Neko
• Played with Neko
• Napped on the piano bench
• Napped on my desk
• Changed napping positions three times
• Yawned vigorously
• Washed his face
• Peeked our the window to see the backyard’s comings and goings
• Moved to the folded towel I put down on my desk for his comfort

Much has been accomplished since 9:00 AM and it’s not yet Noon.

Be like Clyde and make it a great day!

MIAGD: Make it a great day

“It’s my life, it’s now or never…” Jon Bon Jovi

Yes. But how many times do we allow others or circumstances to overtake us?

Too many times, I’m betting.

Until my alcoholic birth father moved out when I was twelve years old, we lived at the mercy of his dysfunction and were forced to coexist. We didn’t realize we were codependent but it was imposed on us where we lived a different life simply to survive.

As I grew older I discovered there were many other forms of codependency.

It’s difficult, I believe, to know when to continue to be of service or when not letting go can be a detriment to your own life.

Sometimes it is imperative to move away, and move on from people or circumstances that desire to drag us down with them.

Knowing when to let go or move on is a choice. For me, I always see just how healthy the choice was.

We were meant to live our lives to the fullest. If we allow ourselves to be glued to toxicity we cheapen our life’s journey.

Why make life harder by permitting yourself to be emotionally, mentally, and even spiritually imprisoned by others? It usually means you’ve also been physically detained.

Move on. It’s your life.

Make it a great day, Folks!

I grew up around the corner from my maternal grandparents and with Grandpa Leroy’s night shift schedule at the police department I was afforded tons of time with him during the day.  Starting kindergarten brought those days to a close.

I loved adventures with Papaw: running errands, visiting with his fellow police officers, going to lunch or breakfast, going ice fishing with my great-grandfather, and an endless list of fun.  It was just time spent with my grandfather.

To him, I was “Honkin'” and until he died in 2004, he still called me Honkin.

Honkin?

I grew up with and around marching bands. In the summers my grandma would secure me in my bike seat and she would ride us out to the TWay parking lot to watch the Mighty Marching Panther Band rehearse.

One evening while Grandpa and Grandma sat on their front porch swing, I began marching around the porch playing an air-trumpet.  Grandpa called out, “Are you honkin’?” (You know, honking on a trumpet!)

Well, I was blonde at age three, and responded, “No, I’m Darin.”

My grandparents were in a fit of laughter and at that moment my nickname was dubbed.

Honkin.  Honk.  Honkaroo.

Wonderful memories of times with my grandfather.

MIAGD: Make it a great day

I’ve had several parents of senior students express the growing pains of their children going through all the senior year rituals and preparing for the big move to college.

I think this is one of those times that made more difficult for parents because we do want the best for our child, but we also wish to hang on to those last morsels of our time with them, and their childhood.

Once upon a time when I was a teenager, Mother, my siblings, and I were preparing to go to dinner with our grandparents after church.  I asked if I could, instead, go do something with some friends.   I can still remember the look that came across Mother’s face.  It was not one I had ever seen before.

I didn’t know whether to run or yield to her reaction.

My grandfather intervened.  He pulled his eldest child aside, put his arm around her and said, “Sissy, there was a time when your mother and I went through the same thing with our eldest child. You cannot escape this big moment of children wanting to do things away from the family.”

Grandma intoned, “Leroy’s right, Diana. Our parents went through it with us and your dad and I went through it with the three of you. It’s your turn.”

Mother looked up at Grandpa, smiled, nodded, and told me it was fine that I went out with friends.

Observing this pivotal moment in my life served me well as a parent.

I wanted to feel those traditional parent-pangs when it was my turn but I had to push my sons, who’d never had dads in their lives, to go do things with their friends.

Regardless whether we have to push or let go, it’s a little on the heart-jerking side.

Go out and make it a great day, Folks!

MIAGD: Make it a great day

Neko and Clyde make me laugh. A lot.

These two adopted fellows, together barely over one month, also make me smile.

Last summer when little Flanagan became a member of The Haasienda, Neko’s male maternal responses were adorable and impressive. Even as Flanagan battled toward the end of his short life, Neko was a constant nursemaid and loving companion.

Clyde arrived this past Halloween weekend and while there were a few weeks of stand-offs as each adult male assessed the other, it’s now hard to imagine they’ve not been together since birth.

Neko, being the first cat, had every reason to be jealous and in accepting. Instead, he reached out his paw, eventually, and welcomed Clyde into The Haasienda.

They play.

They fight.

They nap together.

They eat together.

They sit at the back door’s window watching the dogs in the back yard.

They get it.

Make it a great day, Folks.

My day promptly began at 7 AM with the usual routine of feeding the dogs and myself, pouring my first cup of coffee, and settling into the day with a few business items.

Around 8:30 AM, my youngest son strolled in having worked a bit over to assist with something. Along with additional pay, he got to select two items from their outstanding bakery. We sat in my study eating our decadent Dorothy Lane Market treats, chatting, laughing, enjoying the animals before he headed downstairs to bed.

By 11:30 AM I was on the bus heading downtown to partake in a noontime Board of Directors meeting before seeing Dare 2 Defy’s very fine production, LITTLE WOMEN.

The 53° weather was perfect for a twenty-minute walk to one of my favorite Mexican eateries, Taqueria Mixtaca on East Third Street. Even when I was not a regular, the friendly service was just as fine as the food.

The temperature, even well past sunset, was very comfortable. I strolled through The Cannery District before heading back to The Schuster Center where I ended up chatting with a fellow board member.

I decided against seeing the musical a second time and wandered about Courthouse Square taking pictures. Actually, I ended up taking photos of families standing in front of the Dayton courthouse Christmas tree. Several families began forming a line thinking I was an official photographer.

Now, I’m on the bus heading back to the comfortable Cape Cod dwelling in Kettering.

I’ve missed my dogs and cats.

Ahh. I was looking for something and ran across my drawings from Terry Stump’s scenic design class at Sinclar Community College, 1996.

I was lucky to have had Ron Runyan for drafting class in 1977.

Terry and Mr. Runyan will always rank as two of my favorite teachers.

Several of the drawings were for the musical I was also directing, MEET ME IN ST. LOUIS. I do kind of miss sitting at my computer playing with my CAD program. Such fun.

I have now spent my second day creating in The Cove, a special place open to me by a great organization.

It’s not a true cove, but rather, an alcove.  But it’s an inviting space that invites me to engage with my creative energies and gives me a boost.

It feels great.

Thank you to my gracious hosts who allow me to take up a little piece of their heaven!

As a kid growing up in the Heart of Hoosierland, one of my favorite memories was the preparation for the family cookout on Race Day and listening to the opening ceremonies of The Indianapolis 500 which included actor Jim Nabors singing, “Back Home, Again, In Indiana.”

Two unbelievable things:

1. Gomer Pyle had a beautiful voice
2. “Back Home, Again, In Indiana” is only our state signature song; our state song is “On The Banks of the Wabash”

Like many, I grew up watching Jim Nabors play the goofy, very practical thinking, and generous hearted Gomer Pyle who debuted in Mayberry’s ANDY GRIFFITH and moved right onto the Marine base in GOMER PYLE.

Since moving to Ohio in 1990, the lilting melody so closely associated with my home state runs through my mind, and sometimes, out my mouth, when I see the big light blue arch on US70 West. It’s always Jim Nabors’ voice I hear when I’m back home, again, in Indiana.

Thanks for the laughs, the songs, and the many memories, Gomer and Jim.

Please say, “Hi yah” to Andy, Barney, and Floyd!

Jim Nabors singing “Back Home, Again, In Indiana”

Thanks for always showing me how to laugh and making it a great day!

MIAGD: Make it a great day

It’s not unusual to come downstairs every morning to this scene….

Neko and Clyde rule the first floor during the night.  I am often awakened by the horrendous sound of racing cat feet and things falling/getting knocked off shelves or tables below.

Kitchen cabinet doors are open.

Papers and pens, left on my desk in my study, are on the floor.

Items all around the house are disturbed from their intended place.

Clyde, once slightly leery of the three dogs, no longer budges from stretching out on the floor in the direct path of charging dogs.  He’s home.

Most would think it a daily hassle to play pick-up after two male cats.  “Why don’t you crate them during the night?”

Neko and Clyde are happy.  They are in a home where they are loved and allowed to play.  They are just being cats!

Make it a great day, Folks, and enjoy this beautiful day!

MIAGD: Make it a great day

There’s nothing like finding that “right spot” – that sanctuary where all things come together.

Finding that “right spot” in which to create is always a huge challenge for me. Sometimes I can write and create from the same “right spots” while other times I need something different.

The beach has worked.

The mountains have worked.

The library has worked.

The Ghost Light Coffee shop has worked.

My deck has worked.

Woodland Cemetery has worked.

My bedroom has worked.

My study has worked… sometimes.

Home is not the ideal environment for creating. Editing, yes. Actual writing? Nope. I have home distractions. Distractions – people, noise, busyness – are not intrusive. Home-distractions are. I always think of something that needs to be done. And, of course, I always want to be pet-attentive.

One night I was downtown for an event and had additional time before meeting friends so I sat in this cozy nook with attractive windows that allowed me a nice view of the block across the street. All of the sudden I had an urge to write. I pulled out my phone and opened Word.

Wow. The least expected place, a mini-thoroughfare, held a charm for bolstering my need to create.

A month later I revisited the same spot for a similar purpose and the creative urge hit once again.

I inquired about using the cozy, out-of-the-way nook and was warmly welcomed.

I’m ready for lunch after 2hrs 15 minutes of solid writing while listening to producer Ken Davenport interview Stephen Schwartz on a really cool podcast.

Thank you to my hosts who’ve allowed me to nestle away with my laptop!

MIAGD: Make it a great day

Many years ago, one of my all time favorite studio parents, Robin Taylor, told her three children, Joe, Rebecca, and Christopher, “Don’t ever let anyone rent space in your brain.”

Perfect.

I’d always used Eleanor Roosevelt’s, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”

Mrs. Roosevelt’s framed poster portrait and quote over power my study for students to see.

Robin’s statement said pretty much the same thing but in a more practical way for teens and times.

Think how often little items can take up so much space in our brains. It is up to us to decide what to save or delete, it’s a choice.

Think of those days when we feel we are looking our best and filled with energy. We get to work, school, or where ever, and someone says, “Oh, you look tired.” We don’t feel tired. Does this person know something we don’t? A little later someone else also says we look tired, or they ask if we feel well. What eventually happens: we give ourselves permission to feel tired.

It happens all the time.

I know that for me, 2:00 PM each afternoon is my biggest adversary. I’ve had lunch, I’m often in between morning and afternoon/evening lessons, and 2:00 PM appears like a siren beckoning me, lulling me to the rocky seashores of slumber. I fight to be productive and to forge on through the day. Sometimes the Nap Siren wins, only because I permit it to do so.

My students deal with all types of brain tenants that wish to prey on their self-confidence. They deal with nerves, feelings of inadequacy, or the dreaded bully who desires to sabotage their confidence in order to move ahead of them.

They receive Robin Taylor’s mantra: never let anyone rent space in your brain.

Own your mind.

Make it a great day, Folks!

For the past week I’ve been finding the large, plastic water bowl over by the sink. With three dogs and two cats using it I didn’t think much about it.

Neko and Clyde are the guardians of the water-bowl. When I go to fill it they’re both waiting to watch the ripples and reflections once I return it to its spot.

I finally discovered the mystery of the moving bowl.

Clyde.

When the water level gets too low Clyde nudges it over to he sink hoping I will, at some point, replenish the water.

Clever.

MIAGD: Make it a great day!

I grew up in a family of huggers.

We hugged and kissed. I was fortunate to move next door to Mama Kay, the age of my parents, who’s also a hugger and kisser. My sons quickly learned, even yearned, for family hugs.

Our morning ritual: hugs and “I love yous” before leaving the house for school. I grew up with this and continued it with my sons.

Our evening ritual: hugs and “I love yous” before heading to bed. I grew up with this and continued it with my sons.

We even hug people we’ve just met.

One thing that always touched me deeply was introducing a new son or foster son to my Hoosier family. Each new arrival was greeted with a huge bear hug from Mother, their new grandmother, and “I’m so lucky to be your grandma!” Even the foster sons. The rest of the family followed suit with hugs and introductions.

Many of these young men had known abuse at the hands of their own mothers and were, often times, fearful of or antagonistic toward women. The Haas Hugs seemed to immediately diminish those fears and anxieties.

A hug, or a touch on an arm can do so much and we sometimes will never know the power we’ve given with the sharing of a simple touch or hug

After my first year in teaching was complete, I sat with my former high school English teacher, Darren Paquin, in her backyard and discussed one of the new Hoosier mandates in schools: “teachers shouldn’t hug a student.”

This mandate had nothing to do with the issues we seem to face these days with student/teacher relationships; Indiana was going through a phase during the cancellation of corporal punishment.

I remember Mrs. Paquin leaning across the table, in what happened to be our first frank conversation as colleagues, and saying, “I’m still going to hug my students… even the smelly ones.”

That was good enough for me.

Yes, I hug students, and their parents and siblings. I’ll hug just damn near anyone who needs a hug. If we spend our time only hugging ourselves our arms will begin to ache; reaching out and hugging others will never make our arms ache.

Make it a great day and hug people and hug life... hug the smelly folks and the smellier days!

I was nominated to fill seven days with black and white photos by several folks.  I am absolutely horrible at maintaining these social media requests so I have created an album of some of my favorite photographs I’ve taken in black and white over the years.

MIAGD: Make it a great day

I had a student say, “Sutton Foster is my role model. I want to be just like her.”

“No, you don’t want to be just like Sutton Foster,” I said.

“Is she not a good person or do fellow performers not like her?” asked the perplexed student.

“Heavens, no! From friends and former students who’ve worked with her she’s absolutely adorable.”

“But….”

“Let Sutton Foster inspire you to be the very best YOU but don’t copy her. You are you. She is Sutton Foster.”

Sometimes we skew our thinking or our paths by imitating others when we should be building ourselves on our own foundations. Heroes and role models are needed but we cannot risk finding our true selves by imitating others or doing everything they did.

Who wants to be a carbon copy?

As a teacher in the performing arts I see this all the time. Students want to be just like a popular artist or an older performer in their school or performing arts organization.

No. Be the best YOU; you cannot be the best THEM because they’ve already made that claim. Grow in your journey inspired by their journey.

Remember the British singer, Susan Boyle? Her role model was British musical star, Elaine Paige. Susan Boyle imitated Ms. Paige but never truly found her own voice and how brilliant she could be. Ms. Boyle achieved overnight fame that lasted but a few years.

I know of one individual who went to the same university as their Broadway “role model” only to discover professors, staff, and some remaining students hated the Broadway performer. The little follower was devastated. I learned they lasted about three complete semesters before dropping out of that university only to return to a community college where they eventually dropped out and began working full time for a local Target store.

I have a student who has looked up to an older student who has since moved on to college. The younger student has designs on the exact path of the older who is not doing so well currently, and making some poor choices. The college student is not well-liked by faculty and fellow students because of their elected attitude and personality.

I see this all the time: students getting awestruck or star struck and wanting to imitate the older performer. All too often I have to redirect students on not trying to sing/sound like their current favorite Broadway pop-star; while the star is obviously (for the most part) very good, they’re generally older and more experienced with training than my student whose voice is not mature enough to pull off the same caliber of technique nor style. Therefore, they attempt things out of Studio and often find themselves in a vocal bind. After several issues arise they eventually see the importance of PROCESS.

It’s imperative we have those who inspire us but we must never give up being ourselves.

So, go out and make it a great day – YOUR way!

My student, Adam Weaver, a junior at Centerville High School, is playing the role of Clyde Barrow in their production of BONNIE & CLYDE.

Tonight, the two Clydes finally met up.

I loved my Friday!

I left for Watseka, Illinois at 2:30 AM Thursday morning on less than two hours of sleep to visit Mother at the assisted living facility, returned by 4:00 AM to teach until 9:00 PM, and then was still wide awake until midnight.

Friday morning I woke without the fatigue buzz and figured I’d give it my best.

When I stepped off the bus, downtown Dayton, I discovered the bluest sky I’d seen and spent a good hour taking photos.

I lunched at my regular Friday haunt, Liu Gardens Chinese Restaurant on Main Street before heading over to the Dayton Metro Library to work.

4:00 PM I was home and raking leaves in the front yard before taking a 45-minute nap.

After showering and dressing, Nicole Melin and I were headed to The Schuster Center to see the national touring company, AN AMERCIAN IN PARIS.

I’ve not thoroughly enjoyed most of the shows brought in by the Schuster and figured this would be another second-rate production.

NOT EVEN CLOSE!

The North American tour of AN AMERICAN IN PARIS is outstanding.  I’ve not seen the movie but know the music inside and out.  It’s not a tight book as a GUYS AND DOLLS, but the dancing and scenic designs are breath-taking and unbelievable.  The two leading, lovers danced through every metaphor imaginable.  The scenic design and sets were just as choreographed as the dancers.

Bravo, AN AMERICAN IN PARIS!

What a Friday!

Centerville High School is opening tonight with BONNIE & CLYDE, The Musical.

My studio is proud to cheer on:

Adam Weaver as Clyde

Brad Mraz as Ted Hinton

Mitchell Goecke as Clyde’s father & Clyde understudy

Katie Kress as Young Clyde & Bank Teller

PERFORMANCES:

Friday & Saturday, November 10, 11, 17, 18 @ 7:30 PM at The Centerville HS Performing Arts Center

FOR TICKET INFORMATION:

http://www.centervillehstheatre.com/bonnie–clyde.html

For more information:

http://www.centervillehstheatre.com/

Clyde seems to truly enjoy music and spends at least 90% of his time in the studio during lesson hours. He’s either napping on my desk, or claiming squatters rights to my desk chair the minute I vacated.

It seems Clyde loves to be in the studio when I am teaching as he spends at least 90% of his time there during teaching hours. He’s either sleeping on the desk, or planting himself in my desk chair the minute I vacate it.