The Rake Magazine

It should come as no surprise at this point, to regular readers of my blog, that I am not shy about sharing with you what makes me... ME.

This morning I saw a DVD that I had been waiting for, sitting on my counter in the kitchen — images from my family's Zip Lining experience in Mexico four months ago.

What got to me were these two photos:

These pictures were taken 350 feet up in the air, with nothing more than our trust in the guides that supplied us with the equipment and our belief that we could enjoy the beauty of what was beneath — Rocks, Trees, Rain, Bugs, and god forbid... the unknown — all at just $35 per person. :-)

Is it not the greatest gift to watch the people you brought into the world through love, make choices that you wished you had had the guts to make, but never did?

In My case... well... it took me until now (at 40 years old). But in my kids case... well... you can see from the pics that they don't have the legs of a 40-year-old. :-)

There is only one area in which I still have to work really hard on at this point with my kids—who understand that everything their Mom and Dad do is simply a byproduct of Dad doing what he has to do and Mom doing what she has to do. We are who we are.

But it's hard to explain to them how a 40-year-old woman who has experienced so much can topple under the weight at times — how my brain goes into overdrive to the point where eating, sleeping, and functioning do not come to me in the same way they do to most. This is a difficult thing to explain to my two most important reasons for living, to my two most important and loving gifts — my son and my daughter — to whom I am so lucky to be Mom.

Last night on 60 Minutes I watched a report that kept me up most of the night.

 

The report was about a sacred area, foreign to most of us in America. A part of the world where nature is untouched by all things we think we can't live without. A place where the sounds of the rain hitting the leaves cannot be duplicated with musical instruments, where a never-before-seen male bird turns from a little shy guy into fricken BATMAN to woo a female bird — and to top off the whole incredible experience the male bird gives the female bird 20 minutes on a small dark branch in the middle of nowhere after spending 23 hours building a stack of branches and laying out a variety of colorful rocks just to get her attention. And if he's lucky...

It was too much for my brain to handle — and also too much for me to try to explain to my son and daughter that no matter what happens in life and how many chances we make, we should always look forward to the unknown. The one thing about nature that will never change is that it will always be the one place that we all, as humans, can't control but can admire.

To the Men and Woman that will not understand this short story: I have no comment.
To the Men and Woman that do get this short story: it's about time!
To my Son: If you have to wear a colorful coat and dance for the girl of your dreams, it's worth it.
To my Daughter: If you have to wear a colorful coat and dance for the man of your dreams, it's worth it.

 

1st place winner for most original sculpture:--- 2007 Minnesota Celebrity Butter Carving Contest:

Every year I participate in a week's worth of events at the Minnesota State Fair, and granted, the Fair is not until August, BUT I figured this year I should get a jump start honing my skills so I can shoot for the Gold in the AGRI-OLYMPICS.

It started several years ago when I was a sidekick on KS95's morning show. My two partners at the time, Rob and Mark, thought it would be fun to nominate me to participate in the Celebrity Cow Milking Contest. "Yeah, let's get Princess Melinda to walk through the fair in her fancy shoes and see if she can Milk a Cow in front of a live audience."

"No problem, GUYS. I am up for the challenge," I thought to myself, "but first I am going to require some practice." So I went into the Moo Booth and asked a very cute dairy farmer if he would help me learn how to milk a cow.

Two hours, people! I spent two hours with my new best friend (Steve) from Albert Lea, learning the proper techniques to milk a cow.

Lights, TV cameras, and a few drunks in the audience all focused on me for one whole minute (on the official clock), and my lessons paid off. I filled that bucket almost right up to the top, even though my cow decided to use my pretty shoes as the perfect spot to relieve herself.

Unbelievable! All the D-LIST celebrities took their turns, one by one, squeezing their cows to get more milk in their buckets, but nobody was going to beat me.

All of us Media types got so competitive, that Rusty Gatenby and Joe Schmidt actually starting using their cow's teats as weapons
against each other.

Had everyone stopped yanking and squeezing the teats so hard and taken the time to learn the proper way to milk a cow (making an OK sign with one hand and massaging the milk down), perhaps they, too, would have had a shot.

Long story short... For six years straight I was the crowned champion
of the Celebrity Cow Milking Contest.

Last year, though, I was off my game and came in third, so I did what any person would do to regain the admiration and respect of my peers: I entered the 2007 Celebrity Butter Carving Contest, using my good buddy TONE FLY as my inspiration.

Let's see... How do I carve a work of art — a portrait of T, as I call him — with a plastic knife?

After studying his bald head and facial features, I had the perfect idea. I went to Walgreens and picked up a Mr. Potato Head kit, grabbed a pair of my diamond hoop earrings, cut off a chunk of hair from my Hair Extensions, threw in one of my old sets of fake lashes, found a little airplane from one of my son's old boxes of junk, and created the 1st place award-winning butter sculpture of 2007.

Well, actually, I got first place in the most original category. The real winner was Princess Kay of the Milky Way, whose creation got a standing ovation.

For the next three months I will be working on butter sculpting techniques in hopes that I can both redeem myself in the Cow Milking Contest and sculpt something that will earn me the title of not just "Most Original Butter Sculpture" but also "Hardest Working
D-list Celebrity in the 2008 Minnesota State Fair Agri-Olympics."

I used to think that when I was up at night and my hubby was snoozing, rubbing his back was a nice thing to do.

Guess it's not only not nice, but it's annoying.

All this time I thought I was being little miss affectionate, but instead... I have been waking up my partner when he is just trying to get some deep sleep. I never knew this until today.

Also I never realized that when I am in a deep sleep and my husband does not WAKE me up to kiss me goodbye, he is not doing it to be mean. He is just trying to let me stay in that pleasant, peaceful world where we sleep like babies.

Who knew? I didn't, but I do now.

All of the people that advise you before you get married to never
go to sleep angry and always kiss your partner before YOU fall asleep, they got the first part right; but if your partner is in a deep, peaceful sleep and you don't wake them up for a big smooch, this doesn't mean you don't love them. It just means you are being considerate — at least in OUR case.

There is nothing like affection from your partner (when he or she is awake). I was on the receiving end of that deal this morning, and even though it's cloudy and cold outside, I feel very warm and fuzzy on the inside. :)

Good luck with the golf game, Honey. I promise from here on out to only kiss you when you are wide awake!

Hey, you asked for it, Mister, and I KNOW whether you are really sleeping or you're faking it.

"We would probably have a better shot of winning the Power ball lottery than having our wives wear this!"

This was sent to me by my former boyfriend, who is now my good buddy, Rob Vinton. Yes, he is the son of Bobby Vinton, and we met here on a show about being the Child of a Celebrity—(Good Company) KSTP TV—in the '80s.

The interesting story about Rob is that he played his father Bobbie Vinton in the movie GOODFELLAS. Rob is now the Musical Conductor-Road Manager-and handsome bass guitarist on the Bobby Vinton Musical Tour.

Small world in the creative field.

Have you ever wondered what it is like to be a model? Instead of boring you with a long story, I will be as brief as I CAN.

I have modeled clothes for designers and done that fake (I am too sexy for my shoes) deal: Knollwood Mall in the '80s. So, it wasn't Fashion Week in New York... It was still fun to walk the runway with a guy that had to wear a Boy Scout outfit to match my Girl Scout outfit. Why? Because I—at the time—had a huge crush on him.

Since he is from a very public family, and I don't have time to get his consent—and go through lawyers—I will call him Mr. Green Eyes. :-)

Mr. Green Eyes and I had a lot of fun getting paired up in fashion shows because you really get to know someone when you are given ONE room in which to change—no privacy—and two seconds to take off your clothes and put on the outfit that was selected for you by the CLIENT and approved by your AGENT. Those moments started out fun, but then they just became awkward, tainted with jealousy.

After that, I had to take a breather. But who wouldn't take $250 to spend 30 minutes having their picture taken in Pink PJ's for the TARGET circular?

That, too, was fun... until a bunch of my high school friends thought it would be cute to copy that ad and post it all over Orono High School. That Monday—which I refer to as Pink Monday from Hell—I thought had taught me a lesson. But, nope; being Me, I had to keep going.

After playing a Fruit of the Loom Grape at 3 a.m. on a home shopping channel to an audience of 12 people, it was really starting to get to me and make me realize this whole modeling world was NOT for ME.

There were a few stand out experiences, of course — like the time that I got booked for a national ad for DAYTON'S. Yep. I got the call from my agent at Eleanor Moore; they wanted ME to be the bride for a national print ad.

I showed up to the shoot, which happened to be at Temple Israel, and—what a surprise—I was booked as the Jewish Bride, and my Jewish Husband was an Italian guy named Tony.

The whole experience was just wrong. First, I was in make-up and hair for three hours, and when I looked in the mirror afterward, I didn't look that different. Then came the Wedding Dress. I sucked in my stomach so hard that my ribs were bruised by the dress. And finally, as I was standing at the alter with Tony (my fake Jewish husband), the director told me to lean in and kiss him for TWO HOURS STRAIGHT.

That was it. I was a married woman getting paid $$$$$ to kiss (more like make-out with) and "be in love with" a fake Jewish guy (a stranger, at that) in the very same synagogue in which I had married my real husband. This whole picture was wrong, wrong, and wrong.

As usual, I was nice and took direction—except for having to stop and ask the wardrobe stylist for water and mints, which made the big-time New York photographer accuse me of being a prima donna. My fake husband didn't say a word, and... you do the math—two hours of kissing and hugging with no water. Let's just say that I can't be the one accused of bad breath and sweat. :O##

Well, that was it. I broke my vows to my real husband for $$$$. I felt terrible. The worst part was going out to dinner that night with a bunch of friends, trying to forget the whole day, until—you guessed it—my fake Jewish husband showed up at the SAME restaurant with his girlfriend. Talk about uncomfortable!

"Howard, meet Tony, my fake husband"

"Melinda, meet xxxxxx, my girlfriend."

Yep. That was fun—also a night that made me realize that modeling was NOT my future career... again.

Which brings me to this last weekend, when I went back down that uncomfortable path by participating in a fashion show. I had only one reason for getting up in front of strangers in clothes that were (how shall I put this) not picked out for my body type and strutting my stuff on stage. It was worth it for one reason and one reason only: Hope Chest and Barbera Hensley. (That sounds like two reasons, but it's really not. Barbara founded Hope Chest in 2002, after losing her oldest sister to breast cancer.)

FYI: The highlight of the show was modeling along side Grandma B (the Cutie Pie Mom of JEROME BENTON AND TERRY LEWIS) and having a lot of money raised for the Dear and Lovely Barbara Hensley & her Hope Chest for Breast Cancer.

The low part was being told by the "professional" MODEL that my tags were hanging out — to which I responded by saying, "Thank you. I am not a pro, so I appreciate your help." Of course, I wasn't too crazy about having to show my spandex to let all the woman know that I, too, have flaws; but the cream cheese and bagel breakfast gave me no choice. It was spandex or popped buttons. :-)