Tag Archives: Silly

The Time I Starred in My Own Sitcom

I love making people laugh.

As I kid I remember singing passionately into a hairbrush and lip syncing to Donny Osmond for anyone who dared visit our home. At an early age, I discovered that being entertaining was a one-way ticket to garner attention, and attention was something I always LOVED.

I’ve stopped apologizing for this trait; it’s just the way I am. Some people don’t like a fuss, and others like marching bands, peacock feathers and disco balls.

Hey, it’s people like me that keep the glitter industry in business! It takes all kinds to make this juicy world so darned interesting.

So, back to me (of course). If there’s a lull in the conversation, I’ll break into one of my famous Cher impressions. Or do a goofy chair dance with wild, swinging hair.

But the time I most vividly recall being the star in my own sitcom was on a trip with the Fab Four (Renee, Cynthia and Anita) to beautiful St. Maarten.  Idyllic, aqua blue water, open air markets and powdery soft sand set the stage for a blissful, relaxing getaway.

But as you know from my previous tale, my friend Anita’s idea of fun is not sitting on a lounge chair and drinking pina coladas.

She wanted to go parasailing.

Cynthia and Renee gave her their best, “Not a chance” looks.  But, since I had yet to stop drinking and was feeling a bit wild and loose, I said, “I’ll go!”

I mean, how could this not go well?  Handsome, shirtless men on jet skis prepared to whisk us out to the launching boat (I am sure there are official words for all of this, but I do not know them.) I jumped on the back, held on tightly and readied for an adventure.

This jet ski ride was on STEROIDS.  Not a fun, bouncy little jaunt, the driver was full pedal to the metal and my inebriated self began screaming SLOW DOWN!  HELP!  WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?

He sped up.

I then screamed something I can’t print here, because this is a G-rated website.  It involved taking drastic action (with salty language and a threat of bodily harm) to get him to slow down.  Said with the emphasis only terror can evoke, my wild-eyed, hair flying, blood curdling delivery only served to make my driver, his buddy driver, and my so-called friend Anita dissolve into giggles.

Finally, we get on board and they begin strapping us in to our parasailing apparatus.  Anita and I were going up together.  I wanted to be a friend and a support to her on this adventure.  Instead, I was her comic relief.

Somehow, as the sails lifted, I shifted.  Instead of securely perched among the straps, I fell like a hanging sausage in an Italian deli.  Due to several cocktails and a lack of stomach muscles, I was unable to pull myself up into position.

And this is what I love about my friend Renee.  From the comfort of her lounge chair, she looked up and noted, “Wow.  Look at Brenda.  She’s really good at this – look at how she’s spinning in the air!”

One is not supposed to spin in the air like a rotisserie chicken when parasailing.  As Anita daintily sat enjoying the view while our altitude grew, my lady parts grew increasingly numb, tortured with every minute of the hang.

I could have surrendered to the moment.  But that was LAST week’s Word of the Week.  And I just wanted OFF the ride.

The screaming of obscenities began afresh but no one can hear you that far up in the sky, plus,  Anita’s giggles were drowning out my cries for help.  I’m ashamed to say I spun in her direction and said, “Shut up, you skinny @#$%#!”

See, she was lithe and lightweight.  I was chunkier at this juncture in my life, and it was a true disadvantage in the exercise of parasailing.

Finally, it was time for the descent.  Others gracefully landed in the water, floating down in slow motion.  My hanging sausage routine was now enhanced by my legs trying to run in the air (Renee thought I was doing air ballet) accompanied by screams of “No, no, no, no, NOOOOOOOO!” as we approached touchdown.

Anita’s last memory is of me coming up for air after dunking down and saying, “Oh.  That wasn’t so bad.”

To this day, we cannot retell the story without collapsing into belly laughs.

I only wish there had been video evidence, but this photo will have to do.

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Can you tell which one is me?

I hope you laughed ALOT this week.  You certainly all make ME smile.  🙂

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