Sunshine Day at National Orange Show

I am going to try to blog more often. I hold myself back because I think each entry has to be the perfect epic. That is a waste. Little, everyday moments are epic enough... some are even quite brave or reveling. I want to live in each one of them.

So today was Sunshine Day at the National Orange Show. Gil and I are here performing our Wild West Turkey Stampede and the Comedy Parrot "stand up" act, Funny Birds.

For those of you who don't know, Sunshine Day is the day when physically and mentally handicapped (or handy capable... whatever is politically correct these days) come to the fair in the morning for free shows. Another name for it is Special Peoples Day. You can look at this any way you want to. You may choose to make fun, you may choose to pity, you may choose to ignore and just do your job.

As a society, heck, as people or primates or whatever you believe, we are programmed to shun those who are different. I know this because when I pick volunteers for my show that have to answer a question by holding a box to their vocal chords or hold a bird on a metal and plastic claw instead of a flesh-and-blood hand, a blanket of discomfort often descends over the crowd.

But today, on Sunshine Day at the National Orange Show, I was overwhelmed with such a feeling of gratitude as these individuals demonstrated the true meaning of living in the moment. The laughter and enthusiasm, the complete embrace of our ridiculous Turkey Racing Show by this mass of humanity labeled as handicapped was a thrilling encounter. Every move the turkeys made, every turn and flip of Big Red the remote control truck and every squealing, laughing, cheering guest made each moment a perfect picture of joy and fun and celebration.

We do our shows everywhere, for all kinds of audiences: All races, all ages, from soccer moms to rednecks and from yuppies to gang bangers. There is always laughter and smiles. But to rest eyes upon someone who is completely "there" with you, in the moment, sharing with you on a level of pure enjoyment unfettered by rules, responsibilities, and what some might call the typical rigors of life, really did make this day, a sunshine day.

Today I met people that truly live in the moment and are excited about living life in a way that thousands of people spend millions of dollars trying to learn how to do at seminars and through self help books... and most of them never get there.

Today was a good day.

How did I get here and why am I in this handbasket?

There I am; a 46 year old, California grown, married gal who, like most California growns, works pretty much seven days a week. Work is precariously balanced with household responsibilities: mail, bills, groceries, cleaning, yard work... the usual stuff. No children but that doesn't seem to lighten the load. Laundry is never, ever completely done. It is either in the basket waiting to be washed, in the washer waiting to be dried, in the dryer waiting to be folded or on the bed waiting to be put away; most often, its a combination of three or four of the five.

My husband, Gil works from home and works with me on an amazingly eclectic variety of projects, all of which seem to miraculously culminate in someone paying us to do it!
Our newest car is a 2000 Ford F350 that, thanks to Ford Motor Company's lack of imagination or design capitol, still looks a lot like the new ones. Though not new, our vehicles are paid for and, for the most part, problem free. Except for the family of mice that have taken up residence in my '91 Suburban, making it not quite pine scent fresh, I have no automotive wows.

I rarely like what's on TV, in the frig or hanging in my closet. So I guess my life rolls along pretty much like most; right?

Well, not exactly. You see, my commute doesn't end in an office between nine and five. It ends at a fairgrounds between the lines on Highway 5. Laundry is as much sequins as it is linens. And if you look past the peeling paint on the house and weeds pushing up through the gravel drive you will see a flock of gorgeous tom turkeys strutting about their enclosure next to an African crowned crane taking a bath in her kiddy pool, accidentally splashing the snoozing potbellied pig relaxing in the mud wallow he has made outside her fence.

For the past seventeen years, the first seven of which I did solo before I met Gil, I have made my living as an entertainer, particularly with my traveling bird show, at state and county fairs.

I did not always think it would be this way. When my bird act and I first stumbled onto the San Mateo County Fair entertainment line-up back in 1993, I considered it a perfect transitional habitat between my former, quasi prestigious career as an animal trainer/show presenter for the San Diego Zoological Society and my obviously eminent TV, celebrity animal show host career.

(viva la naivete!)

With the 2009 fair season, (my 17th) off and running with the Riverside County Fair & National Date Festival, I find I have seasoned and settled into a great life at home in Ramona, California with my husband and our thirty four acre Camel Dairy http://www.cameldairy.com/ and a wonderful, ongoing relationship on the road with fair audiences (some of the best crowds in the world) and my troop of performing birds, some of which have been by my side for over twenty years.

How do we do it? A bird show? A camel dairy? Does that support us? Well, sort of. In addition Gil is a crystal cutter http://www.crystalcutter.com/ and we also work together performing the Wild West turkey Stampede http://www.turkeystampede.com/ the worlds first and only racing turkey show.

Holy crap! How do we do it?!

All I can say is follow along and I'll show you!

I have a lot to share with you. Some of which, you may, after reading, feel that you might have been better off not knowing. But I am a seasoned fairgrounds act performer. I entertain in the trenches and survive by my wits.

I can tell you without fear of contradiction or challenge that it doesn't matter who you are... standing next to a Chinese acrobat DOES make your butt look big. And if that small snippet of information somehow helps even just one person... than exposing my onstage insecurities and backstage catastrophes will have been worth it.