stuff - Blog

May 15, 2008

8:53

My son ran the inaugural Main Street Mile this past Saturday here in Kansas City.

It was a cloudy, cold morning, and he left early from home with his "friend Gary". That's how he says it: "My friend Gary and I are running on Saturday" or "My friend Gary and I ran the Main Street Mile". What's amazing to those to whom he tells these things is when they figure out that his "friend Gary" is 60+ years old, trains every day for marathons and sanctioned runs, and, along with his wife, has been a close friend and neighbor - we share a driveway!! - for 10+ years.

running

running away

My son and his friend Gary

Now, this was my son's first race, and he doesn't train for marathons, but he was truly excited and ready to run. So excited, and so cold before the start, that he and Gary skipped running in the heat they had chosen - the Fun Run - and ran in the "39 and Under" bracket after averaging their ages!!

Gary is a good man. As my son would say, a friend. And this friend, on this day, saw to it that my son started the race, ran a good race, and learned a little bit more about himself during the race.

And when they came flying - he's an only child; it seemed like flying - over the crest of the hill at Westport Road and Main Street, I nearly cried. You see, he was doing what he's been doing since the day he was born . . . moving toward his dreams and away from me. But this time, like so many times in the past, he caught my eye and smiled. And, he kept right on truckin'.

As always, my son's cheer team included not only his parents, but an extended family that included his aunt Casey and her daughter, my mother and her friend Lori, my son's virtual grandmother Ryoko, and Gary's wife Janie (also my son's good "friend").

They finished the race side-by-side at 8:53. When they joined their "Cheer Team" back half a block at 40th and Main, he ran straight to me. Then, as he "worked" the whole group with his breathless hugs and thank yous, I stood there and clearly saw the baby who finally made it across the carpet on all fours to get the stuffed bunny and who looked back at me in triumph. I saw the toddler who finally made it to the end of the sofa on two wobbly feet while grasping the cushions with two hands, and who had looked back at me in sheer amazement and fear. And I saw the child who still runs from the car every day into the wonder of his school hollering "love you too" over his shoulder.

part of the cheer team and their reasons for cheering.

I've never run a mile on Main Street in under 9 minutes. I probably never will.

But I am 11 years into the greatest marathon I will ever run.

May 8, 2008

Thinking Person's Laugh

I can laugh easily. But there is nothing I like better than something that is funny, but has a twist that makes it just not quite right. Case in point:

Two years ago, we had to have a drain pipe replaced in our kitchen here at stuff. Our kitchen is really cool, because Casey and I designed it to conceal lots of storage and to be sleek enough for the catering we bring in over the course of the year. However, it is on the "lower level", has no windows, and has the main drain pipe running along one wall in plain view. So, when the plumber was done installing the 300 lb. cast iron replacement, we had it painted deep black and had our artist friend Jane Hosey-Stern come and paint a quote on it in her magical style.

Now, due to our building being about 100 years old, we have two drain pipes on the wall in question, and the quote I finally chose made me fall out laughing - and Casey did too. Jane, however, was late to the laughing that night, but when it finally hit her, we three had tears running down our faces.

The quote: "It is quite a three pipe problem." by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

I think it perfectly suits our complicated lives. There may only be two pipes on the wall, but the problem is greater than that.

handling a three pipe problem with two pipes.

May 1, 2008

Take Really Good Notes

My grandfather, my Dad's Dad, kept a daily diary. It really was more of a ledger and was kept in a ledger book. It was amazing, because he limited himself to only one line for each day. If memory serves, each month was on a single, long page. He dated the covers of the books, and I can vividly remember reading some of them and absolutely loving it when I came across days when I - or my sisters - were included.

My grandfather was a farmer in Mid-Missouri. His daily diary was not the most exciting reading because he tracked things like when he planted a certain crop, the price of fuel, the weather conditions, when they turned the air conditioning on - and occasionally he included social activities like visits from us, birthdays, etc. I loved when he would go and reference it for data. I had to have been 11 or 12 when he asked me to "run down" and check his ledger - he told me to look in a particular month for a certain thing. And I can remember him being dead-on and me being stunned that he could remember such things.

Now I keep a travel diary, and I've been pretty religious about it since 1996. Each book has been different in style - where my grandfather's were all exactly the same - but I now officially know I want one I can keep closed with a big, colorful rubber band. You see, I cram it full of important things to remember AND bits of keepsakes from the road. The books are usually bulging when I am done with them, and a little elastic help is welcome.

I am about to fill the diary I purchased a few years ago in Grand Lake, Colorado. So, just today, I picked up a new victim at stuff. It's a 100% recycled book, plus it utilizes no new trees, it is acid-free and chlorine-free, and it uses only vegetable-based glues and ink. It's called an "ecojot", and I love them all. We've carried these sweet suckers since last fall, and I have been using one as a daily workbook (I'm a list person!!) and it's been perfect.

some of stuff's current assortment of eco-jots.

Part of the fun for me in keeping a travel diary is slowly decorating the outside. My son and I scour gift shops and checkout counters for great stickers. National park shops are great for this, and God knows they need our money!! We even cut up funky weird stickers to make cooler stylish ones.

All the diaries since 1996, and a peek into the one I'm finishing up.

What's been amazing to me is that I've gone back - just like my grandfather - and referenced places I've been for return trips or for others' adventures. I'm probably not keeping all the really good data like my grandfather kept, but I am keeping track of events that are beyond my everyday life and routines. It also reminds me that I've been so many places my grandfather and grandmother never saw, and for that I am able to count my blessings.

A new diary brings on the chance for me to change what I track. Maybe I will start keeping track of airline ticket prices, fuel costs, miles put on the odometer, etc.

Or maybe I won't. Who needs reality in a travel diary that's dedicated to escapism?

April 20, 2008

Off Island Burgers

Today was a great day, even though I had to leave Florida and the beach. It was great because my husband and I really just had light snacks until 3pm when we hit The Shake Pit on our way to the airport.

My father and I share a deep love for hamburgers that are really good. We don't have a rating scale, and we don't even talk much about a ranking system. He said to me several years ago, "The best burger on the island is Skinny's, and the best burger off island is The Shake Pit." Since then, I have tried both and not been let down at either. (The island is Anna Maria Island.)

Skinny's was out of the question when we left the island because the line was out the door. I wanted to stop but knew that the wait would be long, and I've been there several times, so I knew that they hand-form each burger when you order it. Waiting is usually no problem because the beer is always very, very cold. But I do hate to miss a plane.

Today, however, was hamburger bliss at The Shake Pit. My husband and I each had a cheeseburger - his with mustard, mine without - and, instead of crinkle-cut fries, we shared a hot dog. Before I continue with the hamburger monologue, I must say that this hot dog - on a scale of 1 to 10 - was a rock solid 9. The bun was slightly grilled but still soft, and the dog was grilled, too. Absolute heaven with just mustard and relish. (Next time we are gonna have it with those two condiments but add ketchup and diced onions and see how it sits.)

The Shake Pit is an "eat outdoors" place, although they to do offer maybe 10 counter seats inside. I went in today to score a business card and got to see our burgers being made on the open griddle. Just when it was about done, they laid the American Cheese on, and my dream lunch was complete. When it started to bubble a bit, they lifted that little bit of fried paradise and laid it on the soft bun - no grilling on that sucker - with the fresh tomato, onion, lettuce, ketchup and mayo.

The cokes were cold, the burger and dogs were hot, and the ice cream chasers were soft serve chocolate ice cream sundaes with marshmallow cream, whipped cream and nuts - no cherry on mine!

Don't miss The Shake Pit if you find yourself on Manatee Boulevard in Bradenton, Florida. It just may truly be the best burger "off island". But "off island" is a pretty big place.

April 16, 2008

Brave Honesty

I believe that people often equate bravery with physical sacrifice - men charging into battle and the like. But I have been thinking a lot about my Grandma Ginny's life, death and funeral that took place a handful of weeks ago.

My life has been filled with success and failure, celebration and tragedy, comfort and pain. (My ex-husband always said my family was like the Kennedys' without the fame or fortune.) I have witnessed extraordinary acts of kindness, courage, intellect, creativity, and sadly extreme acts of selfishness, mean spirit, and vindictiveness throughout my life.

It is bravery, however, that I find myself thinking about these days.

My Grandmother's last days were spent in a hospital. She had very little privacy, she was constantly examined, and she was given one bad piece of news after another until she was told her condition was fatal.

And, during the experience, she kept her sense of humor, her mind was clear, and she was selfless. She asked about our lives in detail every day. She laughed, smiled and told jokes - which was the Grandma I grew up knowing. She was authentic in her character until she took her last breath. And even though that is brave in itself, it was her honesty that made me realize how truly brave you must be to reveal the truth.

She did not waste her final days re-writing history. She spoke about the good and the bad with equal frankness. She loved people very, very deeply. She also saw them with a clear mind's eye. She talked about her disappointments and her triumphs with the same attention to being honest.

It was a remarkable experience to be holding her hand when she died. My father, my sister, my stepmother, and I stood around her and held onto to her while she passed. There was no pain in the room, only peace.

My sister, Sloane, spoke at her funeral, and as she spoke I closed my eyes briefly and could hear the same frank honesty, the same accurate and articulate telling of my Grandmother's life that I had come to expect from my grandmother. She bravely told an honest story about an honest woman that hid nothing and revealed everything. And, once again, there was only peace left when the story came to an end.

Maybe the truth will set us all free?

April 16, 2008

With the Right Pair of Shoes...

My husband was vegan (plus fish!) for 4-1/2 years, but he never had as much fun as I've had in these vegan shoes.

Yes, they're vegan, made-in-the-USA, massaging, anti-microbial, waterproof, top-rack-machine-washable, and recyclable*. And you can change out the spiffy ribbons.

Enjoying the exit row.

Going through security in KC.

Waiting for our luggage in Florida.

If you thought that T-shirt from a few days ago made me happy and pushed all my "feel good" buttons, try to come between me and brightly-colored shoes in my size. (Not easy to find, as I'm a 12.)

Admiring the floor art at KCI airport.

Picking up Hertz car #662.

KCI is full of art!

Yes, they're available at stuff in five or six color combinations and many sizes. But don't be surprised if we're sold out of my size.

*When you have worn them to shreds, bring 'em back to stuff and we'll send 'em to the manufacturer in Georgia, where they'll be shredded further and made into new shoes!

April 10, 2008

It Doesn't Get Any Better

This is the perfect T-shirt. Here's why: It is made from 50% organic cotton and 50% recycled plastic bottles (RPET). It is made entirely in the USA. It comes in two great colors. The company that supports these great ideas is a Kansas City company, Jones & Mitchell Sportswear. Their sales person that helped us make this tee "ours" is Brian Partlow, a friend I've known for 10 years through our love of AIDS Walk Kansas City. And my sister and I personalized this shirt for the neighborhood we love, Brookside.

Life is all about partnerships, friendships, and jointly held beliefs. It doesn't get any better than this T-shirt.

April 8, 2008

Story Box

I came to stuff this Sunday morning to do a bit of work and get the store "rolling" for the day. It took me longer than I had planned because, truthfully, I was caught in a moment alone with all the art that I am blessed to work near every day.

You see, stuff is open 358 days a year, and to make that possible we work before and after hours too. So it isn't often that I get the whole place to myself...alone, quiet and with a few extra minutes to stop and breathe in the beauty of it all.

This morning I was drawn to Ninette Maumus's work in particular. We have proudly represented her work for years. She creates these captivating three dimensional shadow box assemblage pieces. And I believe I was struck by her work today because of a project I recently completed at my daughter's school. Creating symbolic assemblage and working with three year olds gave me a refreshed perspective on the stories held in these special pieces.

There I was, slowly moving from piece to piece, trying to translate the story being told by the objects and images that were meticulously chosen and assembled by Ninette.

What I realized is that, even though these boxes seem to be portraying a past story, it is our own story that is privately revealed to us by viewing them. Each of us projecting our own history into this storytelling, often inexplicably drawn to the piece that resonates with us personally, and comfortably expanding them into full-blown stories with dialog, emotion and thoughts.

In the end, my private moment was interrupted. But, just like these boxes protect a story from dissipating, my connection with them won't fade either.

April 6, 2008

It's a Family Affair

I adore my family. Not just the ones that birthed me, raised me, or married me. Not just the ones that allow me to continue to be the "older sister" or the "Mom". Those people are an intricate part of my greater family - the family of people I've surrounded myself with and love deeply.

This past Friday night was one of my favorite Friday nights every year: The Mosaic Project. It is the culmination of a year of planning with my fellow committee members, Catherine and Greg and Terry and Harl. It is the bringing together of volunteers that work this event every year and enjoy seeing each other. It is the night where we all get to catch our breath - from lifting heavy boxes and hanging banners - and stare at the wonder of 1,000 pieces of art. And for me, it is having most of my favorite people in one place at one time.

The Mosaic Project was 10 years old this year. Here's the exact definition of the event from the back of one of the this year's tiles:

My niece with her favorite tile at that moment.

Over the past ten years, nearly 10,000 glazed ceramic tiles have been created for a unique Kansas City AIDS awareness project called Mosaic. Area high schools, youth groups and artists have donated time and talent to produce a yearly exhibit called "A World Without AIDS". The participants developed their own concepts, which were interpreted using glaze on 6" x 6" ceramic tiles. All supplies for the project are provided by the AIDS Service Foundation of Greater Kansas City or donated by local businesses.

Thousands of people have seen the exhibit. The exhibit installation has been held for many years in the Art Lobby of the Chair Building during "First Friday" gallery openings in the Crossroads Art District, south of Downtown Kansas City, Missouri. The installations are impressive and thought-provoking, and Mosaic has become an integral part of the pre-event awareness for Kansas City’s largest AIDS services fundraising effort, AIDS Walk Kansas City.

Schools or youth groups who are interested in participating in this important project can contact Greg Hugeback at (816) 531-4606 to join the local AIDS fight and to help raise awareness among our youth, one of the groups with the fastest rising HIV infection rates.

All funds raised by Mosaic directly benefit AIDS Walk Kansas City.

Me, with my friends Greg and Catherine, setting up the show.

But it's more than that to me. This project had become a part of my life.

My son painted a tile for the first time this year and was a volunteer at two of the events leading up to Friday night.

My husband joined the committee several years ago so that our data on each of the artists was uniform.

My sister and I - and our store stuff - are corporate sponsors of the event, and we continue that spirit all year by displaying the tiles in the store and selling them year-round.

My best friend has worked on this event since we joined the committee together 9 years ago.

And this year my niece attended the event, as she has every year since joining us on the planet - but this year she was able to walk around on her own, turn to strangers looking at tiles near her, and ask them "Which one is your favorite?" and "Are you going to buy that one?". (She's charming and amazing.)

My mom, my niece, and my sister.

A few of this year's tiles.

My friends Gary, Janie, Jane & Chip.

AIDS is a part of the world I live in, and my family has joined me in fighting something so much larger than all of us put together. Tell me I'm not lucky.

PS. AIDS Walk is Saturday, April 26th.
Check out details about stuff's team at http://www.firstgiving.com/stuffteam.

March 30, 2008

Happiness

I am at my happiest in a swimsuit. The perfect day, for me, is to go from PJs in the morning to a swimsuit to PJs in the night.

I love to swim. I may very well be some kind of a water goddess/princess/shaman - my palms actually itch when I see large bodies of water: pools, rivers, oceans, lakes. And my palms itch for the pool paintings that Lori Buntin creates. She too may be a water junkie. I don't know.

"Pool No. 1 (Refraction)" by Lori Buntin.

"Pool No. 2 - After Hours" by Lori Buntin

I love the water for many reasons. However, when I was swimming last week it reminded me of my favorite quote. "stress can't swim".

So true.

PS. The paintings are available at stuff. I suffer every day looking at them while fully clothed.

March 22, 2008

Breathless

Two weeks ago, my last grandmother died. But it was the week before that - the seven long days preceding that day - that had me experiencing all of life at a breathless pace....

On Monday, I took my grandmother for her quarterly foot doctor visit. It was a sunny day, but very windy and cold. We had intended to have two stops that day, but the trip to the doctor was enough outdoor activity for her. So, instead of a snack at a table with any type of service, she wanted me to serve Brach's peanut clusters and a "good fountain Coke" in the front seat of my car. Easy. And I probably outdid myself when I parked us in front of a construction site. Hey, it was activity, and it gave us much to talk about.

On Tuesday afternoon, my grandmother had "an episode" at lunch. It was different than, say, the kind that Casey or I would have at lunch - because those we can usually talk each other down from. Grandma's episode got me a call from my Dad - who was in Florida - and had me finding my grandmother in the maze of an emergency room an hour later making a doctor laugh. It crossed my mind quickly that it really was an episode like Casey and I have and that he had "talked her down".

But it wasn't, as Wednesday proved.

My son's math club meets every other Wednesday at 7:15 am. That Wednesday, we were at Lamar's, the home of the best doughnuts in the world, at 7 am to pick up our four dozen for the group. At 7:45, I was at the hospital visiting Grandma, who, I was told by the nurses, "had a great night" and would "probably go home today" with her doctor's approval. I was happy for her. In hindsight, I wish I had brought her a doughnut. Her last real food was the next meal - sausage, egg, hash browns, OJ - all prepared at the hospital. She loved it and told me so. My grandmother truly loved food. I can't imagine what she would have said if I'd sneaked just one doughnut out of the box....

Forty minutes later, she began a series of strokes that most likely had begun the day before - although that one had not appeared on her CT scan - and that she would continue for the next 24+ hours.

Strokes are weird. The next three days were a roller coaster for her, gaining some ground and then losing it. She talked, she laughed, she made others laugh, she stood up with help, and she recognized every member of our family. My family and I were on a different ride - the Tilt-A-Whirl - our brains spinning with all the knowledge her fabulous doctor and the nurses were giving us and, finally, as the ride was slowing down, whirling with the knowledge that she was leaving us.

Thursday found Casey and me at the hospital very early and at stuff very late. It was an awesome night at stuff - eleven local jewelry artists all at the store with all their new hand crafted collections for 3 hours. The name of the event is EXTRAVAGANZA because that's exactly what it is.

My energy level was refilled by the people who joined us that night. I breathed deeply and soaked it all in.

Months before this amazing week, Casey and I and stuff had been chosen as a Top 25 Under 25 Kansas City small business. A fantastic honor. An incredible experience. And the week we were now in was the culmination of all the special events that are a part of the honoring process - radio interviews, the gala, etc.

By Friday morning, Casey and I pretty much just wanted to be at the hospital. My grandmother's journey was one we didn't want to just hear about - we wanted to be her bell captain and porter and help her with all her luggage. On our first visit to the hospital, she surprised us when she asked Casey how the party had been; the woman missed nothing!!

We did a little bit of it all that day. We got our kids where they needed to be, we were guests on a live radio program for half an hour with the publisher of Kansas City Small Business Monthly, we dealt with pressing issues at stuff, we worked the floor of the store, we went to the hospital four times, we realized we had to deal with a few small personal issues regarding clothing for Saturday night's gala, and I went to bed feeling like the times we went to the hospital were too few.

Saturday found each of us at the hospital and then with our families all day, and, in the evening, we were seated at the Marriott downtown with family, mentors and artists that stuff represents at the rockin'est table: Number 56!! 800 people came to celebrate the "Class of 2008" in all their Top 25 glory. When Casey and I made our walk across the stage, I realized I was holding my breath in wonderment at the 11 years of business that had gotten us there.

It was a wonderful night, and it was extremely special. The view from my end of the table was breathtaking.

And Monday, early, my grandmother's breath was taken away, and she handed it to the four of us at her bedside. But I knew right then that it was the wind power that had seen our little ship through the week.

February 14, 2008

Top 25 Things I Love at stuff

My sister Casey - she's the best.
Magnutz - they're awesome magnets; we've sold them for 10 years.
Locally Made Jewelry - how can you not love a one-of-a-kind?
Zippernut Cards - they always hit so close to home.
Laughter - it's all around us here.
Tuscan Currant candles by Nouvelle - hand poured in Louisiana everyday.
Cotton Rugs by Dash & Albert - they always make me want to buy them.
Our intense recycling commitment - it has me driving packing foam and CFL light bulbs down 63rd Street!!
Our new blue sticker - great color.
The fact that my dog comes to work with me 2 days a week.
Art classes kids can take - offered all year long.
My son "working" with me. Translation: a bit of work from him, and then my money spent at Topsy’s!!
Julie Ann's shortbread cookies - the best cookie in this world.
MOSAIC tiles in the store year round!!
Piel Leather bags.
The "Gnome Bearers" by Fred Conlon.
Serving trays & such by Decorative Things. Handmade in New York City. Wacky!!
ANY clip earrings that come in!! (Little known fact: I can only wear clip earrings.)
Our funky "reader" glasses - because I occasionally need to wear them in the late afternoon.
My desk & office space.
Lavender lotion by Pre de Provence.
The Brookside Sweatshirt - my sister designed it, and we donate a portion of each sale to the local park.
Having my niece yell, "LaLa, I'm here!!" as she crosses the threshold.
The music we play - it always gets me in trouble.
Our customers. Truly, they're the best.

What are your Top 25?

Happy Valentine’s Day!!

February 13, 2008

749, Unbelievable!

We finally met him last night at sit down dinner in a bank lobby downtown. And, of course, we told him how honored we were to meet him. And we were. You see, he rocked our world.

His name is Tom Doty and he works at a small business in town called Warehouse 1. And, until last November, I can honestly say we had never heard of him. His business, yes. Him personally, no. The phone rang in early November, and a man on the other end asked if it would be OK if "Tom Doty from Warehouse 1" nominated us for the Top 25 award. It seems as though he had had a wonderful experience in our store and liked what we were up to. We said, "That would be fine," not knowing what the Top 25 award was, but figuring it couldn't be all bad. And, it being November, we went back to dealing with the holiday season at stuff and thought nothing of it until "the packet" came in the mail yet that month.

The amazing graphic design work of Casey Simmons.

"The packet" was from the Kansas City Small Business Monthly magazine telling us we had been nominated to receive the "Top 25 Under 25" award, which is given every year to the top 25 small businesses in Kansas City with less than 25 employees. We read on through the packet and saw outlined before us the items we needed to pull together to submit to the judges, one of the items being financial statements. We hemmed, we hawed, we procrastinated. And not because we weren't honored to have been nominated - that's always been the part of the process that humbles us - but because it was November and our plates, as retailers, were full.

Then we came to our senses and called off the pity party. I was assigned the task of pulling all the pieces together and preparing the 7 packets for the panel of judges. One item was a letter of recommendation, and I turned to my friend Steve Metzler and asked if he would write it. Steve and I have yet to say "No" to each other, and he didn't let me down. His letter brought tears to my eyes, as often happens when you are looking at yourself through other's eyes.

The amazing photography work of David Riffel.

Another item requested was a photograph of Casey and me to be used throughout the nomination and award process. We immediately knew that the photo my husband had taken of us in my backyard over two years before wouldn't cut the mustard. So I called on another friend, David Riffel, one of Kansas City's finest photography gurus - and he didn't laugh out loud when I told him what we needed and when. Within two days of my call, Casey and I were standing on the lawn of the Nelson-Atkins Museum on a crisp - and gorgeous - late fall day, having our portrait made. The entire session with him took 14 minutes, and I'm pretty sure he got the shot he wanted in the first 3 minutes!!

Last night at dinner, we learned that 749 small businesses were nominated this year. I did a little math in my head - that's all the math I can really do - and realized we made it into the top 4%. It blew me away. But small business had gotten us there. The individual artists we represent every day, the small businesses around the nation we seek out and support for their hand crafted goods, and - of course - Warehouse 1, Metzler Brothers Insurance, and David Riffel Photography.

Thank you, Tom Doty, for calling us so many months ago. You rock.

February 11, 2008

A 3rd Birthday Party...
Twenty Years in the Making

A couple of weeks ago, my daughter turned three. I took the day off from the store and spent the day with her. We started our day snuggling in bed and reading books. We then joined my nephew at school for lunch, where she was able to eat in the "big kids" lunchroom. We came to Brookside, and her LaLa (Sloane) took her up the street to the ice cream shop for a treat. And then, after our afternoon naps (yes, I joined in), we headed off to meet our family for dinner.

It was a special night, and it wasn't just because we were with our family to celebrate a third birthday. It was special because we attended the AIDS Walk Kick-Off Party at Bar Natasha. All the other parents reading this are smiling right now because you are thinking, "Way to fool the kid into believing an all-adult event in a bar for a local charity is good way to spend your third birthday." And, when I arrived I did suffer a bit of mother guilt; but by the time we left, I realized that I couldn't have planned a better celebration.

She sat on my lap watching and listening to inspirational speeches, videos and singing. She was curious and asked me a constant flow of questions. She loved the music and was a good sport when she sat on my lap watching and listening to inspirational speeches, videos and singing. She was curious and asked me a constant flow of questions. She loved the music and was a good sport when she won a beer coozie and baseball cap when her winning raffle ticket number was called.

I listened to the stories being shared. I looked at my mother and sister and took a walk down memory lane. I remembered all the door-to-door canvassing, envelope stuffing, phone banking, and campaign work we did as children. You see, I come from a long line of strong, opinionated, articulate, justice-seeking women. It is one of my life's greatest gifts. gifts that last a lifetime.

This year, AIDS Walk Kansas City is celebrating 20 years of offering a life of dignity to the people in our community living with this disease and joining them in their wish for a cure for HIV/AIDS. The men and women in the room that night have not wavered, and their commitments have only grown stronger over the last 20 years. Their selfless and tireless belief in a world with social justice is remarkable.

We did go on to have a "real third birthday party" the following weekend, but my daughter often talks about that night. She walks around the house with the beer coozie over her milk cup, wearing an AIDS Walk baseball cap, and she stops occasionally to asks, "Mama, why does LaLa wear an AIDS ribbon all the time?" I respond, "Because she helps to remind us that people need our help, baby girl."

To learn more about AIDS Walk Kansas City click here.

If you would like to join and/or support the stuff AIDS Walk Team on April 26th, 2008, click here.

January 29, 2008

The Magic of Mom

On Christmas Eve, I noticed my Mom was doing a little needlework; it may have been knitting. Since I was in "selfish grown child" mode and didn't truly stop to notice, it could have been crochet. I know it wasn't needlepoint. You see, she can do all those things. (I myself needlepoint, yet I send buttons to the tailor to be reattached to the item they fell off of.)

Something about her concentration, or possibly the clicking of needles, made me remember that I had some dresses that I wanted to "fix". I didn't like them the way they were, and I wasn't wearing them. Big waste, because they are fabulous, lightweight linen - an anytime fabric in my world. I knew I wanted to make them shorter - but beyond that, I had no idea.

So I asked her to help. I ran up the stairs, and, on the way up, it hit me. Embroidery!! She can do that!! She had embroidered my French espadrilles in high school, and I cried when they "died" - as espadrilles inevitably do. Now here's where the magic of a Mom steps in: I showed her the length I wanted, and I turned her loose. We briefly talked about colors, and I stuffed them in her bag. Out of sight, out of my mind.

Two weeks ago, I was handed the first one, and have worn it 6 times since then. I LOVE it. You see, it has been handsomely embroidered by hand with the coastline of Scotland, a sort of nautical map, and the embroidery loops the base of the dress with shoals, kelp beds, old wrecks, etc.

My Mom is a genius with the atlas, but I know she made half of it up. OK, not "made up" but "embellished" with the magic she holds in her two hands.

PS. If you think I cried over the espadrilles, stand back. Linen doesn't last forever!!

January 21, 2008

Mother Nature Rocks My World

I am in love with nature. I wear a custom made Elle bracelet with a Frank Lloyd Wright quote that reads "I believe in God, only I spell it nature." Mother Nature rocks my world. She is gentle, beautiful, steadfast and powerful. Talk about the perfect woman.

The first time I stood on the rim of the Grand Canyon, I was speechless....and if you know me, you know it would take the Grand F**king Canyon to shut me up. But I digress.

I don't "collect" many things. I buy fine art. I seem to acquire bowls, but nothing specific. I love artist-made jewelry, but again it is not a focused collection. I do, however, collect shells and rocks...abundantly. My home is a shrine to the handiwork of the oceans and rivers. In other words, I collect pieces of Mother Nature.

A couple of days ago, stuff received an order of a small gift book entitled "Heart Stones" by Josie Iselin. It is a lovely little book of photography and inspiration about heart shaped stones.

I grabbed myself a copy, took it home, and sat on the sofa with my daughter to share it with her. She will be three years old very soon; she paged through the book a few times, then walked to one of the many dishes in our home that hold stones and said, "Look, Mama, we have some, too." I just smiled.

She went on to drive me crazy about all the other stones in our home, and even wanted to go out to our deck in freezing temperatures to find the heart stones on our outdoor table. It was a truly magical evening. But that doesn't surprise me.... Mother Nature works in mysterious ways.

January 6, 2008

Shame On You, Bad Man

That's it! I am pissed. If you dare to pick a fight with my sister, you pick a fight with me. I am saying "watch out" to the bad man - the bully - the lowdown dirty scumbag - that just lied through his teeth to save himself a handful of dollars. I mean, really! Is your good karma worth so little? Do you value your pride at such a bargain basement price?

Here's the story. During a recent trip to our neighborhood grocery store, my sister's car was smacked into by a jerk. She was pulling out of an angled parking space, and this guy whipped around her from the opposite direction - crossing the oncoming lane of traffic - and ripped half the rear fender off her new hybrid car trying to squeeze into the spot next to her before she could pull out. He then proceeded to evade calls from his own insurance company for two weeks, then finally denied responsibility for the result of his illegal and dangerous driving maneuvers, sticking my sister with several unreasonable choices: paying for the repair herself; claiming it on her own insurance (we all know how that would affect her in the long run); or getting a lawyer and spending an outrageous amount of time and money suing the loser just to see justice served.

Folks, this is why people go crazy and start freaking out in public. This guy knows he is wrong. He knows he should pay for the $950ish worth of damage - and maybe even say "I'm sorry." But NOOOOOO! Instead, he's trying to use the system to weasel out of his responsibility.

So...I am calling on all karmic gurus, voodoo doll practitioners, séance sisters and the like to call down the thunder. I believe strongly that this bad man should never eat a warm doughnut again. He should be plagued with halitosis, a big shiny balding spot, and ill-fitting pants. I want his fanny to smart from the spanking given him by the karmic powers.

Here is what I know: My sister, Sloane, is honest, true and fair. ALWAYS! She is a moral compass for so many people. She inspires me. She inspires almost everyone who knows her, for that matter. She serves selflessly; she works like a dog; she takes care of her family, her friends, her community, and her world. She would never lie about a car wreck, and she would work three extra jobs to pay her debts. She deserves to be treated with respect.

So, Charles Randolph Williams, Jr. . . . get off your butt and write the check. Because if you don't, you've just sold your soul to devil for a lousy nine hundred bucks.

January 2, 2008

Next Time

I have written before about how there are different kinds of friends in your life (see my October 2nd entry), and I can't neatly put my friend Gina in a labeled box. We see each other rarely outside of stuff, our children go to different schools, and we live miles apart from each other. We met many years ago when stuff was in Westport and her children were members of a book club that met at The Reading Reptile, which was even then just a few doors away. She would grace our retail world with her smiling presence every couple of weeks, and we slowly got to know more about her and members of her family as she took her time choosing and purchasing gifts for them.

And then, one day, a year or more ago, we realized we share something very exciting: a love of Scotland. We discovered this because I instantly recognized the handbag she was carrying since it was from a small store I had discovered in Edinburgh. I couldn't keep the excitement out of my voice when I asked her about it because I knew they were not sold anywhere other than two places in Scotland.

OK. Here's how I fell in love: When I turned 40, my father and I traveled alone to Scotland. This was my very generous birthday gift. Since returning - over two years ago - I've been itching to get back, and Gina may be the only person I talk to in Kansas City who understands that desire. I've driven my husband and son crazy with my reminiscences. My dad and I spent 12 days in our own rental car driving around Scotland. We followed a well planned itinerary, seldom staying in one location more than one night. The world slowed way down, and we got to explore, at our own pace, a huge portion of that amazing country. It was bliss for many, many reasons.

My friend Gina with her handbag made from wool tartan, designed in Scotland and woven in the Hebrides.

I've been blessed with a fairly rich traveling life. I've been to China and Malaysia with my husband; I've been to Rome, Italy, with my step mom; I've been to the British West Indies, Mexico, and many US cities, islands and national parks. But I've never been to a place that has left such a lasting impression as Scotland - an impression that begs you to fill it again by visiting.

Gina has shared her family's adventures with me: their time in Edinburgh at the holidays; her son's current desire to attend college there; her remembrances of shops she loves, castles she's visited, and places she hopes to visit "next time".

Because, when we talk, there is never the assumption that there won't be a next time.

December 30, 2007

A Member of the Cabinet

Casey and I grew up in politics. In politics, if you were a candidate with any sense, you had a "Kitchen Cabinet" - a group of people you held close to you that you trusted to help you make important decisions. And, in politics, you occasionally had to make these decisions at breakneck speed.

stuff has a Kitchen Cabinet. We don't make lightning fast decisions because, unlike politics, most of our decisions don't have to be made in two minutes. But occasionally the choices we have to make demand that we reach beyond the knowledge the two of us hold.

Cathleen and our mom

Cathleen Connealy was a member of our Kitchen Cabinet. For a little over eleven years, there was very little we dreamed up that we didn't run by her - leases, human resources concerns, raffle rules, contracts, and taxes. We knew her from when stuff wasn't a part of our fiber, and she knew - from the beginning - that this new chapter in Casey's and my lives would be very exciting and challenging. She eagerly - with her skills as an attorney - helped us to continue to be different in our approach to retailing.

This past November, we dedicated our holiday open house, "Wings of Hope", to Cathy. At that time, we crafted a letter to our customers telling them why. 4,000 invitations to join us at this two-day party were sent, and we endeavored to share with each of those customers our motivation to continue to raise money. Casey nearly fried the computer keyboard with her tears while drafting it, I couldn't see the numbers on the telephone keypad while calling Cathy's best friend to have the letter approved, and the tears continued to flow on and off throughout the "Wings of Hope" event - not just for Cathy's condition, but in unison with those individuals that attend the event and shared with us their stories of fear, hope, and loss. This is your chance to read it again...

this year we are hosting this event in honor of our dear friend cathleen connealy.

cathy defines the word dignity. she has always shared her bottomless knowledge and wisdom with us freely for as long we can remember. she has always lived by her own set of standards, beliefs and commitments.

we have never seen her flinch at the impossible. the idea that real change for our world may take lifetimes has never caused cathy to compromise her vision for a fair, just, equal and healthy world for every person living on our great mother earth. she is gentle, kind, smart, patient and loyal - and we are grateful to call her a friend.

after years of fighting cancer, cathy recently was given difficult news about her condition. again, she acted with bravery and has decided to live the rest of her life with dignity.

so, cathy, in your honor, we will continue to celebrate hope. we will raise money to help find a cure for cancer. but mostly, we will work hard to treat everyone with the dignity and kindness we have tried to learn by your example.

Cathy is no longer available by phone, and we will no longer find her at her office when we need her.

Cancer has left her alive in only one place where she has always been: our hearts.

December 23, 2007

Touched

Yesterday, Sloane and I worked with hundreds of customers. But I went home with two customers on my mind. Both had been shopping for jewelry. Both were shopping with heavy hearts. Both were trying to find a way to change the inevitable.

A man was selecting jewelry to give to women in his life. His goal was to find pieces that would help these women remember his sister. His sister is dying of cancer, and she is a friend of all of us. It was important to him to find pieces that are a reflection of this amazing woman.

A woman was selecting a piece to give to her friend who is in a battle with cancer once again. Her friend has just begun another round of chemotherapy. It was important for her to find something that would "say" to her friend that she was surrounded by love and friendship. We know the woman because her children went to school with us.

These experiences got me thinking. Why do we buy these talismans? We all know that these tokens won't change the reality that these women are fighting a deadly disease. I even wear a thumb ring in memory of my younger sister who was lost in an auto accident 10 years ago. I know my ring won't bring my sister back.

So...I thought about it. I thought that maybe we fear that we will forget them without the reminders. Maybe we are just grabbing at anything that will help us stay close to them. And then I noticed that I was twirling my thumb ring. I looked down and watched my hands naturally and seamlessly twirl the ring. From years of practice, it is second nature to me. And I decided that we have these talismans because they are tangible. They are a physical presence. We can touch them. We don't need them because we fear we will forget; we will never forget them. We aren't grabbing for ways to stay close; we will always feel close to them. We have them to touch them. Because we want to touch them - our loved ones - and we can't.

These experiences don't happen at most stores. You generally don't find people buying big screen TVs and toaster ovens to honor the people in their lives. But at stuff we are blessed with these experiences all the time. When the world strips away everything, you will find art. It is in art that you find the pain, joy, challenge, and triumph of everyday life. I am thankful for the chance to help someone find peace in a work of art.

This year I feel truly blessed because my family is healthy, happy, and able to be together to share in the spirit of Christmas. My wish for you is that you are also blessed with a happy and healthy holiday and that you are touched by the people you love.

Happy Christmas to all,
and to all a good night...

December 17, 2007

Liberate Your Soul

A friend recently sent me snapshots of the art in his office. I responded by sending snapshots of art from the walls of my home. And the great art exchange began. What was amazing about the "conversation" was how much we learned about each other from the 4 images. Because of today's technology, we were able to have an intimate visual conversation in a matter of minutes. I was captivated.

It was even more exciting to discover that the prints in his office are by my favorite artist, Keith Haring.

I fell in love with Keith Haring's art many, many years ago. His images spoke to me instantly. I was in love with his energy. He created an iconic language that everyone can "read". He created tirelessly. He shared his vision with the public freely. His work is honest and revealing. But what Keith Haring did for me was to make art mainstream. He helped to take art out of the galleries and museums. He brought it to the people. People see art differently because of Keith Haring. He broke the boundaries and the rules. And breaking the rules always appeals to me. Ask my parents.

Since the exchange, I have been revisiting my passion for Keith Haring's work. I have re-read some books and visited some websites. I even looked back at some of my old artwork that was from my "Haring Phase" and saw what I have brought forward in my own work both on and off the canvas.

I can't help but wonder what Keith Haring would have done with today's technology - our ability to share images so rapidly and seamlessly. I know he would have been pushing the envelope with all his might. I would have liked to have seen the evolution of his art. Keith Haring was born on my birthday. Actually, I was born on his tenth birthday. He died in 1990 of AIDS-related complications. I know he would have liked the fact that my friend and I were e-mailing images of art taken with our phones. I believe he would have thought that was cool.

It is difficult to always explain to people why I am so passionate about what I do for a living. To many, it seems like just a store that sells some funky stuff. But I believe it is something greater. I believe that art has a power all its own.

"I don't think art is propaganda; it should be something that liberates the soul, provokes the imagination, and encourages people to go further. It celebrates humanity instead of manipulating it." - Keith Haring 1985

One of my own pieces, inspired partially by Keith Haring.

Me with one of my favorite Keith Haring books.

Some beautiful art on my wall at home, by regional artist Philip Robl.

So, if you have a few minutes, take a snapshot of the art on your walls, send it to a friend, and start an "art talk". You may just be surprised what you discover about each other.

Thank you, Keith, for sharing your vision...you are missed.

http://www.haring.com/

December 12, 2007

What Sensational Weather!

My, the weather has been sensational! Or should I say sensationalist?

I can't decide whether to laugh or become irate at the media's lust for sensationalizing the weather. And I don't mean the real, honest-to-goodness, look-outside weather. I mean the weather forecast - you know, that nebulous guesswork about what might happen but quite often doesn't.

On Monday night, after a great day at work and a visit with the kids to see Santa at Corinthian Hall at the Kansas City Museum, my family went to our favorite pizza joint. We walked in at what should have been peak pizza-eating time. Instead of a packed house with a waiting list,