Archive for October, 2007
October 10, 2007
A few months ago, my tooth woke me up at 6:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning. Although my tooth did not ache then, I noticed a strange sensation as my lip rested on my front teeth.
Retracing the events of what had happened the day before, I remember thinking, “Nothing out of the unusual, it’s probably because I clench my teeth while I sleep, supposedly from stress.” That’s what my trusted dentist of over 25 years had determined as a concern with the health of my teeth. Besides, it was Saturday and I had been given two tickets to attend The Gaither Homecoming Concert in Winston-Salem at 6:00 p.m. that evening.
Just four years ago, one of my classmates attending our 30-year high school reunion told me, “If you have never been to a Gaither Homecoming, you’ve got to go to at least one.” I remembered his recommendation and decided to follow his advice when the opportunity developed.
Two hours after I woke up early on Saturday morning a few months ago, my lip felt heavy as it touched my tooth. I thought, “That is strange. I wonder if I should call the dentist?” No way; I dismissed the thought because it was Saturday morning and fresh strawberries were in season. I had planned to buy a flat of strawberries at the local farmer’s market that morning.
Before my toothache began, my thoughts fancied the taste of eating fresh strawberries. Although once important, eating strawberries was now the last thing I wanted to do.
I reluctantly called my dentist’s answering service and waited not so patiently. My dentist’s new colleague of five years called me about forty-five minutes later and asked me to describe my discomfort. “It doesn’t sound like anything too serious,” he said reassuringly.
When I was in high school, one of my front teeth abscessed. It was a painful memory indelibly marked in my mind, a memory I did not want to ever experience again.
He recommended waiting until Monday to check my tooth. The dentist said, “If your discomfort intensifies just let me know.”
The same dentist who had taken care of me for over twenty-five years was retiring in only two more days; he had hand selected the younger dentist to join his dental practice. It had been over five years since this younger dentist had begun to take care of our my family. I knew I would be well taken care of because of the established relationship of trust with our soon to be retiring dentist, however, those memories from an abscessed tooth in high school still daunted me.
“There is nothing to fear,” I remember thinking. However, the uncertainty of this extremely uncomfortable feeling in my tooth was disconcerting.
Mark Twain’s quote from his autobiography is most befitting of my dental concern, “Life does not consist mainly–or even largely–of facts and happenings. It consists mainly of the storm of thoughts that is forever blowing through one’s head.
My instructions from the dentist were to call the office first thing Monday morning if I was still uncomfortable, which I was. So, before 8:30 a.m. on Monday morning I was waiting in the dentist’s office to resolve this unrelenting pain. After x-rays and preliminary tests, the dentist was certain something suspicious was going on in my tooth although it was mysterious.
The dental assistant began the necessary preparations for the procedure to determine the source of my dental pain. As the dentist proceeded to work on my tooth, he said, “You were right! The tooth was infected and dying.”
With a radio station playing in a set of headphones on my ears to muffle the drilling noise and with the anesthesia in action, I was comfortable, far beyond the horrific toothache and excruciating pain I experienced with an abscessed tooth and a different dentist over thirty years ago.
Even though this was not my dentist who had cared for me all those years, the tender touch and compassion he performed on the abscessed tooth removed the infection, pain, and my deep seated fear of a root canal and dentists.
Angela Scott
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All writings here are copyrighted by Angela Scott. You may not use them without written permission but you may link to the posts or give out a link to the posts.
October 7, 2007
I remember the hot summer night well even though it happened over forty-two years ago. My mom said I was talking out of my head due to a high fever. Mom called Aunt Kathleen, a private duty nurse who worked third shift and lived across the road from us. Their dialogue was not recorded, however, I clearly remember Mom describe the events of that night.
“What could be wrong,” Mom asked Aunt Kathleen. She curtly said, “Take her to the hospital, now!” Aunt Kathleen knew a surgeon who would be able to help me, Dr. Deaton. She would call the doctor and give a list of my symptoms to him so he would be prepared to administer the proper medical procedure in this emergency situation. “Go now! He will meet you at the hospital,” her voice echoed in my mom’s ears.
Dad worked second shift and arrived at the hospital after work, about 11:30 p.m. He saw the surgeon carrying me in his arms to my hospital room after the appendectomy. Dr. Deaton told mom and dad, “Her appendix was red hot; ready to rupture. If you hadn’t gotten her to the hospital when you did, well…”
A neighbor, Aunt Kathleen, and my mom had been friends for several years. Although she was not really my aunt, she asked mom for the privilege of my sisters and I calling her our aunt since she had never had children.
Aunt Kathleen’s normal work schedule was third shift as a private duty nurse. Mom called her just an hour or two before she would have left for work that summer night.
Mom watched me swim in the pool that day in July. I had been swimming all day with friends. We had eaten, however, my right side quickly became uncomfortable with other severe warning signs developing rapidly.
The year was 1965. I was ten years of age. Since Mom knew Aunt Kathleen as a friend and as a nurse, she called her for help. I am thankful they were good friends and I am certain one of the reasons I survived the severity of an appendicitis attack that night is because a nurse, as well as a friend, possessed vital medical information my mom needed to know at just the right time.
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All writings here are copyrighted by Angela Scott. You may not use them without written permission but you may link to the posts or give out a link to the posts.
October 5, 2007
Ten years ago, one of my friends and I had been talking about the fact how much both of our children loved dogs. I remarked, “My daughter really wants another dog as a pet.” Our first dog died when my daughter was only five years of age. And, since our home had been without a pet for over six years it seemed like our hearts were ready to love another dog.
My friend told me about a fellow she often spoke with at work who wanted to give three puppies to a good home. If I was interested in adopting one of the puppies, all I needed to do was call him and mention she had given me his name.
I called Bill and inquired about a good time to visit the puppies. He enthusiastically agreed to a lunch meeting with the three puppies. They were only four weeks old and I immediately fell in love with the runt of the litter. She quietly and quickly climbed out of the dog bed, leaving her two sisters behind. Tiny and tender, I cuddled her in my hands. “This is the one I want,” I told him. He said since I was the first to visit the puppies, I could have the pick of the litter. “She can go home with you in two weeks,” he remarked.
We purchased for Angel a pet taxi, harness, leash, custom sized dog food bowl, and water dish. Eagerly anticipating the day we could bring her home, we were thrilled. Always ready with a camera for those special photo moments, I snapped a few photos of our new miniature rat terrier with my daughter and one of me holding her tiny life in my lap.
“Let’s call her Angel,” my husband said. My daughter and I quickly agreed because she was so delicate and dainty. The name stuck so we officially adopted Angel on Wednesday, March 6, 1996.
My daughter asked if I could bring Angel to school for a special event in her 4th grade class, which permitted pets. Making the necessary arrangements, I arrived in my daughter’s classroom and told the kids about Angel and her arrival in our home. They loved her too. Unique in size, color, and temperament, she quietly watched the kids.
About two months later, I decided it would be a good idea to write Bill a thank you note expressing our appreciation to him for this wonderful gift of new life in our home. I included photos I had taken of Angel and mailed the note. Although I never received a response from Bill, I knew it was what I needed to do.
Reading the newspaper only four months later, my eyes glanced at a name that was similar to Angel’s first human dad. “That’s odd,” I remember thinking. The name I read in the obituaries was too familiar. Continuing to read the column, I gasped as I read the name of his employer. My thoughts raced, “This can’t be true.” He was just a few years older than me.
When I returned to work, I called the office where Bill had worked to express my condolences because of the incredible gift he had given to my family. The receptionist answering the phone listened to my story. As I told her the details of how we had received Angel, her voice began to break. “You’re the one…” she said. “We never knew your name,” she continued.
I remembered walking to Bill’s office for the lunch visit with Angel but that was the only time I had ever visited his office. “We always wondered who you were. The pictures you sent to him holding the puppy touched his heart. You see, he posted those photos on one of the walls in his office but we did not know your name.” Her voice paused as she said, “We always wondered…”
Who would have ever thought a thank you note and a few photographs would have meant so much to this man who died only six months after I first met him? A simple thank you note to him for the puppy he had given my family had touched several lives and taught all of us an important lesson.
If you are waiting on the perfect moment to take action, remember the lesson I learned. You may have only one opportunity.
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All writings here are copyrighted by Angela Scott. You may not use them without written permission but you may link to the posts or give out a link to the posts.
October 3, 2007
An accurate description of a local bakery is “knee deep in dough.” One of the managers in the bakery, that bread guy (my name for him) offers a smile and greets everyone with an authenticity which is rare to see.
Mouth-watering aromas of their assortment of daily fresh baked breads float through the air. Although I have no idea of how many loaves of bread or specialty items are sold there six days a week, I do know the store is rich in more ways than just with dough.
Every week I purchase a loaf or two of whole wheat bread at the bakery. Each time I am there, that bread guy is smiling and full of life. Although I already know the answer for the secret of happiness, I realize I often neglect accepting life’s abundant blessings due to the busy-ness of life.
With each visit to the bakery, that bread guy shared a truth with me from God’s word or told me about a movie, a book, or an event which had helped him on his journey.
Last week waiting my turn in line to purchase bread, I noticed a poem on the wall which had always been displayed. The poem caught my attention only when I paused to wait. I hope these words of wisdom from an unknown author will encourage you to pause and think.
“Be gentle when you touch bread;
let it not lie uncared for, taken for granted, or unwanted.
There is such beauty in bread.
Beauty of sun and soil and beauty of patient toil.
Winds and rains caressed it.
Christ often blessed it.
Be gentle when you touch bread.”
Forty-eight simple words describe appreciation for bread. Have you thought about the sunshine, rain and work required to prepare bread?
Bread was blessed was Christ. This author encourages us to be gentle with bread and to appreciate its beauty and the work required for creating bread. This type of appreciation is something which can only be done in a gentle moment, when we pause.
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All writings here are copyrighted by Angela Scott. You may not use them without written permission but you may link to the posts or give out a link to the posts.
October 1, 2007
1. What is one thing every Ventriloquist must do?
Speak clearly and be heard. Sound is important for both the ventriloquist and the figure.
2. What is one thing every Ventriloquist must avoid?
Lip movement while venting.
I recommend:
1). Practice, practice, practice! Practice especially the words with B, M, P sounds. Have someone to video tape your performance. If you see your lips moving, so will everyone else.
2.) Keep a natural look on your face while venting. Experiment with different expressions on your face (remember avoid lip movement) reacting to what your figure is saying to you, for example shock, pity, disgust, etc.
3. Is Ventriloquism something that is here to stay?
Yes! I think so. I will do my part to keep it alive.
4. Can someone work successfully as a Ventriloquist if they are in a crowded niche?
Yes! Be who you are, be original, and be creative. There is nobody like you.
5. What has Ventriloquism done for you?
When I hear about someone venting, I think about someone speaking their mind, voicing their opinions, or sharing their feeling to other people. That is what ventriloquism has done for me. Through ventriloquism, I get to share my laughs, my faith, my humor, my singing ability and my creativity with other people.
Ventriloquism has taken me overseas to help entertain our military troops; it feels good to be able to entertain our troops, to see them laugh and smile because they give so much everyday. Venting has helped me make numerous friends around the world. It has also made my closest friend closer, my wife (Roenia). She is my secretary, piano player, music coordinator, my traveling partner and my best friend.
6. What trends to you currently see in Ventriloquism?
Ventriloquists are “HOT!” You see them in movies (okay, the movies do not stay long at the theaters… so what!), commercials, talent shows, sitcoms, etc. I think you are going to see many singing ventriloquists and their figures. Maybe, in the future you will see Ryan Seacrest hosting “American Idol Lips,” for ventriloquists only.
7. When did you first become interested in Ventriloquism?
When I was in the 5th grade, my best friend said he was getting a dummy for Christmas. I had never thought about dummies or ventriloquists until that moment. All I knew, if my best friend, Jimmy, was getting a dummy I wanted one, too. I received a Danny-O-Day figure with a Jimmy Nelson instant ventriloquist LP album.
December 25, 1969 was the beginning of a great adventure. Funny how things work out; my best friend did not receive a dummy for Christmas but I am thankful he wanted one!
http://www.davidturnerandfriends.com
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All writings here are copyrighted by Angela Scott. You may not use them without written permission but you may link to the posts or give out a link to the posts.