February 26th: Best laid plans

After my “nap” from about 2  til 5:45 am I was in the shower singing songs from THE ARK.  I was pumped!  In a couple of hours I’d be on a plane to Long Island to experience one of the GREAT joys of being a songwriter: seeing and hearing what happens when others own the songs you’ve written.  It’s the best part of my job.

At about 7:10 am I got an automated call from Southwest informing me that the second leg of my trip to New York had been canceled.  I was instructed to re-book online or call.  My heart sank until I realized that even if I couldn’t make it to the show tonight, there were still three other performances; two on Saturday and one Sunday afternoon.  That was a happy thought, but it was short lived.  When I finally got through to the airline and spoke to a living, breathing human being I was told that the earliest they could get me in to Long Island was Sunday evening.  I had to call Nancy Rosati, the director and her husband, who was playing the part of Noah to give them the bad news. I wasn’t going to make it.

Thom said something interesting just before that call ended.  I’m paraphrasing, but the gist of it was, “I’ve been reading your M2B:) blog and I’m wondering what’s going to be the ‘happy’ moment on the bummer day?”  On my drive back home from my futile run to the airport I tried to imagine what on earth would be “my happy moment on a bummer day”?   I couldn’t imagine one spontaneously happening so I thought I’d take matters into my own hands and create some happiness.  I stopped at Chick’s Cafe and ordered a stack of buckwheat pancakes to go.

Buckwheat pancakes from Chick’s Cafe have special powers.  I don’t know why, exactly, but they’re magical.  Some would argue that it’s the butter pockets and the warm syrup that do the trick.  Duh!?!  When has butter and sugar NOT played a role in helping people find a happy moment on a bummer day?  I get the comfort food thing and this wasn’t just about the “fix” a few bites usually delivers.  I really hoped that surprising Lynne with the “unexpected joy” of having a buckwheat pancake breakfast in bed would give me something to claim as my happiness for the day.

But she wasn’t in bed where I was hoping she’d be awakened by the smell of buckwheats mingled with my own curious brand of adorableness. Nope.   She was a quarter mile down Mill Road on her way to Layton to administer some home health nursing expertise to her mom who’s been having a rough go of it.  And though I did talk Lynne into sharing a few bites of breakfast with me, my best laid plans to rescue the bummer day were thwarted.

I took a nap, hoping by depositing a few more hours in the sleep bank I’d perk up a bit and zero in on something a person on a M2B:) would want to write about.  Unfortunately I just felt sort of groggy.  I made some calls, ran some errands, read my first draft from last night out loud and exercised.   All pleasant things, but not quite the “happy” I was hoping for.

At about 5pm Mountain Time I calculated that it was 7pm in New York and the show I was missing would be starting soon.   I sent my best wishes to the cast through the ethos, and offered a little prayer in their behalf.  Actually, it was more than a “little prayer”.  It wasn’t a long one, but  it was a big prayer because I’d finally gotten out of the equation and was focused for the first time since my flight was canceled NOT on my disappointment but on the success and happiness of somebody else. Funny how that changes everything.

I got an email from Nancy awhile ago and she let me know that my prayer was answered.  I felt the joy in her heart as she told me of the response of an audience of “animals” who braved the elements, came on board the Ark and received the gift the cast had worked so hard to give them.

I got my happy moment, and I wasn’t even there.