Shake Whatcha Mama Gave Ya

Mom and Dad celebrating after one of my shows.

My mom rocks. (She's crazy, but she rocks). Sharon has lived through a lot. She's strong and doesn't take any shit. Mom's the kind of woman that speaks her mind and filters very little as a result. Because of that, my mother and I have had some of the most hilarious conversations I've ever had the privilege to be a part of.

I just got off the phone with her and here's a transcript of our conversation:

(Note: This conversation has not been embellished for comedy. This conversation actually happened.)

Me: Hey momma!
Mom: How's my baby doing?
Me: Good, just napping.
Mom: Don't you have rehearsal?
Me: Not today, I 'm getting some much needed rest. I had it every night this week.
Mom: I'm on a date with your father.
Me: You two are still dating?
Mom: Yes. It's his office Christmas Party on the Spirit of Philadelphia.
Me: Nice! That sounds cool. You guys all dressed up?
Mom: Girl, I look hot. I feel beautiful. I have cleavage out!
Me: Mom!?
Mom: When you get old you have to start showing cleavage. If you don't, you'll look old. Some people when they get old, they wear turtlenecks. I'm not wearing no turtle necks.

[beat]

Me: Make sure you get some pictures.
Mom: (quizzically) Of my cleavage?
Me: NO!!! Of you and dad on the boat.
Mom: Ok. Cuz I look good.

[cutting to the end of the conversation]

Mom: I'll talk with Dad about when we'll be down to see your show.
Me: Just come to the closing weekend, the first weekend in January. You'll be less busy then.
Mom: Are you sure? Won't you be stale if we wait 'til the end?
Me: When you come, wear a turtleneck.

I love you mom.

We are family!

The Philadelphia Improv Festival was especially awesome for me.

You see, I’ve been doing improv since high school, but I have been doing it “seriously” since college. So, that is effectively eight years of improvisation. Eight years. Eight years of doing an art form that has changed my life, my outlook - the way I see the world. (Yes, I’m that hippie about it). The moral of the story is, I’ve done a countless number of shows, created a countless number of characters and yet there has always been one major thing missing. My parents.

How my parents managed to never see me perform improvisation is beyond me. But on the tenth day of November in the year of our Lord, 2007, at the Philadelphia Improv Festival, my parents saw me do improv for the first time.

You’d think that an old fart like me wouldn’t need, seek or be swayed by her parents approval, attendance or lack there of. But as I stepped up to announce our group, I could hear them cheering and I got a little choked up. It felt ruuuuuuhllll (real) good to see them out there, to have them support me.

All in all the night was lovely night. I think my being hopped up on DayQuil helped curb my nerves and on top of that, we managed to do one of our better shows. I also managed to survive a series of mild-strokes I had on stage - a result of trying not to swear (and do anything that would cause my mom to cry).

Yay family!

Say What?

I grew up in a very conservative, very strict household. This affected nearly every aspect of my young life - particularly what music I was "allowed" to listen to.

I remember one particular day when the issue of music was addressed head on. One day when I was in the car with my mother (I was driving, clearly too old to be told what to listen to). I was feeling bold, so I asked my mom if I could turn from the Christian radio station and listen to the Top-40 station.


To my shock and delight, she said yes. I wasted no time in turning the station. I stopped the dial when I heard my FAVORITE song start to play. It was the newest hit from Blue, Too Close.

I had heard this song many times at school and in my room (out of earshot of my parents). I was thrilled to be pumping it for my mom.


The following is what happened on that fateful day:

(Both my mother and I are dancing in our seats, and I begin to sing along).

Baby when we're grinding
I get so excited
Oh, how I like it
I try but I can't fight it
Oh you're dancing real close
Plus it's real, real slow
You're making it hard for me.

(I hear the last lyric and get what it means. I look over at my mom).

All the slow songs you requested
You're dancing like you're naked
Oh, it's almost like we're sexing (oh yeah)

(My mom looks over at me.)

Yeah boo, I like it
No, I can't deny it
But I know you can tell
I'm excited, oh girl

(I roll down the window to try to drown out the sound.)

Step back you're dancing kinda close
I feel a little poke coming through
On you
Now girl I know you felt it
Before you know I can't help it
You know what I wanna do

(We hit a stop light, so the wind is no longer helping to muffle the radio.)

Baby girl's dancing so close
Ain't a good idea
Cuz I'mma want you now and here
The way that you shake it on me
Makes me want you so bad sexually
Oh girl

(I reach for the dial to turn the station, but my mom stops me).

Baby when we're grinding
I get so excited
Ooh, how I like it
I try but I can't fight it
Oh, your dancing real close
Plus real real slow
You're making it hard for me

(My heart is pounding, and I being to sweat.)

[Blue] I love when you shake it like that, ah, ah, ah
[Girl] I see that you like it like that, ha, ha, hahh
[Blue] I love when you shake it like that, ah, ah, ah
[Girl] I see that you like it like that, ha, ha, hahh

(I start to speed in an effort to get home before I faint.)

Baby when we're grinding
I get so excited
Ooh, how I like it
I try but I can't fight it
Oh, your dancing real close
Plus real real slow
You're making it hard for me

(This repeats four times....playing the whole way home.)

I pull into our driveway and turn off the car. My mother and I sit in silence. The only thing that can be heard is my sound of my uneven breaths.

My mother and I still have never spoken of this incident.

My mother has loosened up quite a bit since then. Irony of ironies, my mother sang the following chorus to me while dancing (suggestively) in the kitchen, the last time I was up to visit her:

This is why I'm hot [2x]
This is why [2x] Uh
This is why I'm hot (Uh)
This is why I'm hot [2x] Whoo
This is why [2x]
This is why I'm hot


My mom is awesome.