Starting Off With a Bang 

  

For who hath despised the day of small things?  

-- Zechariah 4:10a 

  

  

If my career were a board game, it wouldn't be shaped in a nice, orderly, logical progression from start to goal, like Monopoly. It wouldn't have clear-cut ups and downs, like Chutes and Ladders. No, my work path has been so cuckoo and chaotic, it would look like a herd of elephants stampeded across the board game of my life, and jostled all the playing cards and game pieces willy-nilly. 

  

A whole 'nother direction kicked off last night, and what do you know? It was a blast! 

  

  

  

My mask made me look like the Long Ranger in drag, 

but it was all for a good cause. 

  

  

I gave my first keynote speech to a hotel ballroom full of people at a masquerade ball. Speaking engagements are an important way to build an audience for my forthcoming book, Radiant Beams. So this was my big debut. 

  

Now, don't be impressed. This was a freebie. Experienced authors know that you should NEVER work for free. But do not despise the day of small beginnings! I need practice in how I present myself - don't pick your nose, don't scratch, don't burp the alphabet. I need to learn how to put a speech together for a particular audience to set off the Radiant Beams stories for maximum impact. This venue was perfect for those tasks. 

  

Plus, it was for a great cause. The Metropolitan Omaha Women's Business Center was raising money for start-up grants to help women start their own businesses. The inaugural winner is from my town, a darling person, and owner of www.thepinkstore.com, a fun and exciting business concept.  

  

I told a few funny and tender Radiant Beams stories, and shared tales of some famous women business owners and their inspirational, rags-to-riches journeys. Afterwards, a couple of people approached me with tears in their eyes. No, I wasn't THAT bad - they had been touched by the inspiring stories. I heard a lot of compliments, and even got another speaking gig out of the deal. 

  

  

  

  

Something happened at the end of the evening, though, that makes this extra memorable, because my speaking career started off with a bang - literally. 

  

See, after the speech and before the dancing, my Beloved participated in the fund-raising auction. He had his eye on two huge mountains of FIREWORKS, wrapped in fire-red cellophane - irresistible, extreme eye candy for pyromaniacs. 

  

Before we knew it, he got into a bidding war with another guy, but persevered, and became the proud owner of enough fireworks to entertain the whole neighborhood next Fourth of July, or maybe start World War III. 

  

At evening's end, we gathered our carload of party-goers, and all our stuff. My Beloved and our daughter's gentleman caller carried the two huge stacks of fireworks to the door of the hotel so my Beloved could go get the car for us. 

  

But as they set the heavy cellophane bundles down on the floor . . . 

  

. . . BANG!!!!! 

  

THE FIREWORKS WENT OFF!!!! 

  

WE ALL JUMPED FOUR FEET IN THE AIR!!! 

  

I THOUGHT ROCKETS WERE GOING TO START ZINGING LEFT AND RIGHT! 

  

As the acrid smell of smoke wafted through the air, I felt like putting my arm over my mother's head, and ducking for cover like a war scene in the movies.  

  

Luckily, that one big BANG was it. Apparently, whoever donated the fireworks to the auction had packed a whole bunch of fairly harmless "poppers" on the bottom of the stack. The weight of the fireworks on top of those popper packages made some of them go off when the stack was dropped on the floor. 

  

Peter Piper picked a peck of packaged poppers. . . . 

  

Naturally, my Beloved couldn't resist popping one more on the sidewalk outside, causing all of us, plus the valet parkers and two cigar smokers, to jump four feet in the air AGAIN . . . 

  

. . . and everybody wanted to sit in the front seat of his SUV on the way home, since the smoking, smoldering fireworks bundles were in the BACK . . . 

  

. . . and no, we didn't let him take them out of the car into the HOUSE, choosing instead to sacrifice his car, should they explode, so that we could all get a good night's sleep without worrying about the impending EXPLOSION . . . 

  

. . . and none of us will ever remember a word of my speech . . . 

  

  

  

  

. . . but by golly, we'll always remember the night I didn't . . . BOMB . . . but started off a fresh, new endeavor with a BANG. †