Posted in Mr. Happy

Introducing Mr. Happy

Meet Mr. Happy.

I turned sharply down the aisle and saw him perched, yellow and proud, at the very edge of the eye-level shelf.  With no thought of expense, I immediately decided to purchase him.  (Well maybe he cost only $1.19.  On clearance.)  Exactly what drew this little yellow plastic figure to me so quickly and decisively?  That radiant smile?  His upbeat, encouraging skin tone?  Yes!  Well, kinda.  Okay, not really.  If truth be told, I liked his HUGE head on his virtually nonexistent body.  I myself have a big ole head, I admit it, and it’s always thrilling to see others (even toy others) with bigger heads (relatively speaking) than mine, because for that one sick moment I can forget about my own watermelon.  [Sorry, I’m off the subject here.  And off my therapist’s advice to love and cherish all my amazing body parts.]

I pick up my four-year-old grandson Daniel from his Pre-K class every Monday and Wednesday at noon.  So I decided to share Mr Happy with Daniel, on the stipulation that the little yellow fellow (Mr. Happy, not Daniel) “live” in the cup holder of Daniel’s car seat in my backseat after I drop D off at his home.  Thus began Mr. Happy’s involvement in our lives.






Mr. Happy is always smiling, always joyful.  Daniel and I have so much fun talking about the adventures that Mr. Happy experiences.  We even wrote a little song about him (which I will share soon).  You will be seeing and hearing from Mr. Happy from time to time in this blog.  Sail on!

Posted in Uncategorized

Here’s My Office

I really like my office in the Newton Building on Georgia Southern University’s campus.  Even with the tall, really skinny window.    It actually makes me happy to walk into it.  (The office, not the window.)

Here’s a little look at my office.

Posted in Uncategorized

Balcony People–Part Two

A little more about the concept of Balcony People which I shared the other day…

I’ve discovered Five Guiding Principles of Balcony People

1.  Balcony People are willing to take risks.  Because when we reach outside of ourselves to help or encourage someone else, we take the chance of being rejected, laughed at, embarrassed, or even thought of as a little weird.  “Old Man Saye, why do you keep telling me my yellow dress is just so very pretty?!  Please back away me!”

2.  BP realize that what you reap, you sow.  Staying in balconies makes you happier and healthier.  Crouching in dank basements is unhealthy.

3.  BP give to give, not to get.  Because giving away good to others is simply the right thing to do.

4.  BP look for the good in others.  They realize the truth of the statement that we usually find what we’re looking for.

5.  BP express encouragement sincerely.  They don’t flatter or lie.  Okay, maybe except when I couldn’t think of anything good to say about one student’s essay, and all I could come up with was, “Cool font.”

Everytime I read or hear Frost’s “The Road Not Taken,” I think of the daily, minute-to-minute choice of living life as a Balcony Person or a Basement Person.  But let’s be honest, sometimes it feels pretty darn good to make an “un-balcony” comment or two.  Such as I simply had to say to Lady Gaga at lunch today.  “I know we’re best friends and all, LG, but that meat dress was just dumb looking.  Everybody thought so.”  She hurt my sensitive feelings by responding, “Yea, you think so, huh, NS?  Well, let’s compare our W2 forms for 2011.”   I marched out of Moe’s without saying goodbye or even a cursory glance back.

If it’s been a while, listen to “The Road Not Taken”: