Allergies and this week on “Exhale”

whitley

This week on Exhale we talk with the hilarious Kym Whitley. We chat about how she got her start in comedy, her reality show and of course, her gorgeous son. Having adopted him without knowing his family medical history, she discovered that he has a lot of food allergies. And since babies can’t tell you what they can and can’t eat, she was nervous to leave him with sitters, daycare. So she came up with this t-shirt parents can put on their kids when they’re staying with new people just to remind them about food allergies. You write in your kid’s name with a Sharpie up top and then check the boxes of the things he/she is allergic to. And there are write-in boxes below for items not listed.

Isn’t that a FANTASTIC idea? As a person with severe allergies to a whole host of things, I can really appreciate this. She said that she’s even received messages from parents of autistic children who are unable to articulate their issues to caregivers saying “You’re saving my child’s life.” So powerful. You can order these shirts in English and Spanish at dontfeedme.org.

hospital1

I had a severe allergy attack that landed me in the ER just yesterday. For the past month, I’ve been having these persitent reactions (hives, eye and lip swelling, throat swelling). Thought it was a new food allergy and have been journaling to try and narrow it down. But after yesterday I know for sure, my allergy is to aspirin.

fb1

I posted the status above on Facebook about a week ago. I was making a joke. Because I’m a comedian who currently has no medical insurance. But allergies are no joke. THANK GOD I had just gotten my epipen Rx filled. Without it, I’d never have made it to the hospital. Those two aspirin almost took me out, and I’m a grown woman. To think of what kids go through when they have severe allergy attacks — now more than ever I wanna buy these shirts for every parent I know just in case. Thanks so much Kym for what you’re doing!

Below is the trailer for this week’s show. We also talk with Keisha Knight Pulliam, Jeffrey Osborne, and Kevin Rodney Sullivan. SO much fun! I hope you’ll tune in. Wednesdays at 8pm. Only on ASPiRE.

I’m a hustler. I’m a, I’m a hustler…

So I’m out jogging this morning (suspend your disbelief) and an older lady who was leaning up against a light pole waved me over. I didn’t know if she needed help or what so of course I went over… and she tried to sell me Mary Kay cosmetics. While I was jogging. For real? Is that the new pink Cadillac hustle? I almost gave her “the big eyes,” but she was old enough to be my granny so I just said “No, thank you” and kept it moving.

Mary Kay ladies really are shameless, though. One of my girlfriends said a lady tried to sell her Mary Kay at church, during the part of service where you say “God bless you” and greet your neighbor. And she wasn’t even her neighbor! I’m sure it’s not real Christian to take back a “God bless you,” but neither is critiquing someone’s pores during the sign of peace.

I don’t see how posting up near a light pole and waiting for joggers to pass at 8:30 in the morning is a good marketing plan. I mean I’m dripping sweat, I’m out of breath, and who jogs with their credit cards? It seriously felt like a drug deal… Take this sample and if you like it, meet me back here tomorrow. I wouldn’t be surprised if she modeled her sales pitch after a for real street hustler, cause Mary Kay ladies appear to be about that life.

Easter Werge

So it’s Easter Sunday — the most colorful Sunday of the Baptist Church calendar. This morning I sat in my seat and marveled as all the women and kids in their beautiful Easter outfits and hats came in and got settled. There was a lady a few rows in front of me wearing the most GORGEOUS hat I think I’ve ever seen. I’m sure the three people whose views it was obstructing felt a little differently about the hat than I did…

But I digress.

I was sitting next to what I like to call a Pew-varotti. It’s a werge (word merge) I coined myself:

Pew-varotti

noun \pyü-və-rä-tē\

1 :The person sitting next to you in the church pew who takes his/her vocals a little too seriously and sings The Lord’s Prayer and/or congregational hymn as if they’re headlining a show at Carnegie Hall — à la Luciano Pavarotti

Yeah. Pavarotti in an Easter crown. I really took the time to do that.

Moving past that… you guys know what I mean, right? We’ve all had the privilege of sitting next to these folks. They sing in full voice while moving their head and shoulders like they’re conducting a symphony… I always wonder — especially when they actually have great voices — why they don’t just join the choir. I like to imagine there was a big fight at choir rehearsal one night over who got to sing the solo at pastor’s anniversary celebration, and he/she was voted out and now has no place to showcase their skills except for in the pews during service. Sure it’s probably more likely that the person is in a different choir than the one that’s singing on that day, or they don’t have the free time in their schedule to join and attend choir rehearsals, but I prefer to assume drama, and then work backwards from there.

Like my new werge? Then use it, pass it on and make mama proud.

And Happy Easter to all you Easter celebrators!!!

Original illustration

F the Police indeed…

So last nite I had to drive from DC to Orange County, New York to do a show at SUNY Orange. About 10 miles out from the hotel I got an e-mail that I needed to read. So I pulled over to the side of the road like Oprah told me to. I put my hazards on because it was a dark stretch but there were lots of trucks out so I wanted to make sure anyone who might need to pull off the highway could see me sitting there.

As I was reading a car pulled up behind me. Turns out it was a state trooper patrol car. But they never put on their red and blues, and they just started shining the flood light on me so I couldn’t see who/what they were. So being a single woman on a deserted highway and there being nothing to indicate they were police, I shifted the car into drive and get ready to pull off. I didn’t know if it was a trucker coming to kill me or what. But as I start to try to pull away, I hear someone banging on my passenger side door and I floor it. Still can’t see its a cop cuz I’m blinded and they haven’t said anything (don’t they have speakers in those cars?). But then the one in the car moved the flood light and I can now see there’s a cop standing outside my passenger side window with his gun drawn. He yells for me to roll down the window and then yells, “What are you doing? You could have run me over!” And I said, “Well I couldn’t see you because of the light and I’m by myself…” Showed him I was just reading an email while NOT driving — per the law. But the reality is: to him it looked like I was fleeing. To me it felt like I was being attacked… It could have all ended terribly. I know someone who lost their life to a cop in this very same way 10 years ago. Exhale.

When I got to my hotel I called the NY State police to complain. I watch enough TV to know that there had to be a lapse in protocol here. I mean, no lights… no identifying themselves as cops before they approached the car… The officer I spoke with on the phone gave me a lot of party line crap about how the officers are worried about their safety too and how their job is to assists motorists in trouble… Fine. I get all that. But they did nothing that would indicate they were law enforcement officers. She ASSURED me that I just didn’t see their siren lights. And I ASSURED HER BACK that she wasn’t f–ing there and that those lights were the first thing I looked for. Why would I want to unnecessarily be scared out of my mind?

Bottom line is this could all have been avoided if they had on their red and blues… I am beyond thankful it played out the way it did. But I do feel as if I’ve become a member of a new club — the “F” the police club. Like far too many people I know, I now know what if feels like to be looking at the ‘business end’ of a policeman’s gun. I was way too young to identify with this song when this song came out, but now I kinda do:

Pardon the language… but surprisingly there’s no radio edit available for “F*** Tha Police.”

Moving on… In honor of my new member status I was thinking maybe I should bring back my Jheri Curl…

Or at least buy some 40’s and learn how to play dominoes.

Have any of you ever had any really bad/scary encounters with the police? Exhale.

This too shall pass

I always thought this phrase came from Biblical scripture, but I recently found out that it doesn’t. Even so, it’s as, if not more comforting to me in times of distress than anything I’ve ever read in the Bible.

I’ve been going through a pretty rough time the last month or so. And telling myself (sometimes hourly) that nothing lasts forever really is the only thing that even remotely helps. There is a very strange dichotomy when your job is to make people laugh and you’re hurting on the inside.  You feel like a phony. And you get through the shows and you go back home or to your hotel room, and you wish there was someone there whose job it was to cheer you up… The sad clown metaphor is hella cliche, but it summarizes the situation perfectly.

I don’t mean to complain. I love my job. But like anything in life there are times when you JUST DON’T WANT TO. Friends have asked, “Why don’t you write about it?” And I will. When and if it becomes funny to me. But right now I just wanted to say again for myself and to anyone reading who needs to hear it:

No matter what you’re going through…

This too shall pass.

Tina Turner blessed me with Holy Water in a greenhouse

Comedy at a crab picking? … Check.

Comedy in a synagogue? … Check.

Guess I can cross Comedy in a greenhouse off my bucket list too!

Exhale… I love my job.

Greenstreet Gardens Center, Lothian, MD

Greenstreet Gardens Center, Lothian, MD

I did a private show last nite just outside Washington at a garden center called Greenstreet Gardens. It’s a straight shot – maybe 30 minutes – from my house but it almost seemed like a different world. Driving up from the street all I saw was the huge greenhouse in the back. But they also have a super-cute gift shop in the front — I would totally go back and patronize them. I bought a soy candle with a cranberry scent… It’s heavenly. I’m burning it right now. YUM! But anyway back to the story — the staff was having a Ladies Night appreciation event for their customers and so they had it catered with good food and wine and I was the entertainment.

caption

Nice digs!

They rented a stage and a curtain and a sound system for me  and put it in the greenhouse. Awwww…

caption.

The "What's in your purse?" scorecard.

And what would any ladies nite be without the “What’s in your purse?” game… Any woman reading this post has probably played this game at a shower of some sort… If you’re not familiar, here’s how it goes: The host will pass out a sheet with a list of items ranging from “normal” (lipstick, powder) to “no freakin’ way” (pliers, a screwdriver) and there’s a point value associated with every item. And basically the person with the most items on the list in their purse wins a prize.

Well this game was going along just like any other I’d participated in. There was a prize for the winner of each item category and a grand prize winner as well. But then there was a twist at the end. The host for the evening asked which guest thought she had the most outrageous item in her purse and said there would be a prize for the winner. And I was thinking: How do you judge that? There’s no point system for that… Continue reading →