Yeah, I'm Hip.

I just figured it out.

Boy, do I feel like a brain.

I can't decide who is to blame, though, for my newfound skill, and the tardiness of it's arrival.

Should I focus on my son, who, with his hard earned money, purchased one over the internet, then tracked down the devious delivery guy?

Or, should I put crosshairs on John, who, for the last month or so, has been piping in music to his living room?

Of course, it could be Denises' fault. She's the wife of a techie hubby, and spends her workout hours listening to one. (She told me so.)

Hm. Since I'm not able to narrow the line up to sufficiently choose, I'll return to my original assessment:

I'm one hip Gram.

Listenin' to my newly minted favorite Bible study via podcast. Yes, ladies and gents, I've discovered the MP3 player ~ and I'm proud of it! [Only a few years behind the times, eh?]

Keeton, my very hip grandson, gave me a high-five as a celebratory act. ")

Therefore, I've decided to turn my joy outward!

Stay tuned for tomorrow's blog-cast ~ It's the first day of February ~ a fantastic day for a giveaway!

Now tell me.

Be honest.

Have YOU figured YOUR son's MP3 player out yet? Hmmmmm???? ")

Wordless Wednesday: This Little Piggy

The Purple Callback Hibachi Grill

We were beside ourselves!

Out of all the participants who'd come with a dream, a hope; of those who had been dismissed at the end of callbacks in the auditorium, Aubrey stood quite likely as the only one who had been allowed into the ballroom that day, the only one who had been given a 'second chance' of sorts, in front of agents.

Out of all the types of requests she could have received from any one of those agents, Aubrey was gifted with the very best kind: a monologue presentation via dvd. Suddenly erased was her failure to make the first cut. Once again, she had the opportunity to present her skill set, her demeanor, her mannerisms. It was as if the drawing board were wiped clean, and Aubrey's number was the only one called.

A miracle? Yes.

A sense of euphoria descended upon us as we finished the last of the paperwork. Not only had the Lord granted Aubrey the desire of her heart, He had also honored our words as her parents. Most importantly, He had brought glory to Himself by asking all of us to have an attitude of gratefulness at every turn.

We now felt like throwing Him the biggest party this side of heaven! As we clamoured into the vehicle, spontanteous prayers of thanksgiving and victory tumbled out of our mouths. Laughter, talking over one another, loud exclamations of joy ~ we were elated. There was only one thing to do: celebrate!

We headed to the nearest Japanese restaurant, and gave Aubrey and Israel their first opportunity to sit down at a hibachi grill:

Everyone wanted in on the excitement! Heck, even Keller received a 'callback' . . .

and so it was, my dear readers, that we ended up at the Purple Cow, wherein was taken a photo such as this:

I rest my case. I am exonerated. Even a Mom has to goof off now and again. :)

After all ~ soon there was work to be done. Monologues to memorize and dvd's to create.

I'll be sharing here, of our journey, as it unfolds before us. We are currently finishing Israel's dvd now. I do hope you'll stay tuned to journey with us.

O give thanks unto the LORD; for he is good; for his mercy endureth for ever. 1 Chronicles 16:34

This Just In!

Looks like celebrity status is goin' around!

Sunshyne just made the BIG TIME! YEEEHAW! :)

Head over to her place to check it out! :)

Blogger Craft Club: Project 1

It was easy after all! As discussed when I presented this project, I forecast that it would be complete on 'opening day' of Hadias' Blogger Craft Club, and indeed it is!

What set this project apart for me is that I departed from the pattern to create an offset 'checkered' look to this purse. I also added a different lining than suggested, choosing a satin-y interior. Here are a few photos to document the tasks:

The handles were first. Since I've not a serger, I used pinking shears to trim, that my fabric does not unravel in a washing, or from normal wear and tear.
The channel created by making seams was small, so I had to use a crochet hook to begin my turns. There was a fair amount of friction to this task, as this purse is made of cordorouy. The contrast colors were shaping up nicely, and I wanted my seams to be equal, so that one color was not deeper than the same color on the other side. On this handle, I nailed it!
A view from the top:

Next was attaching the handles to the purse bottom, which was easily created by making a seam. By the time these two pieces were pinned together, I was working with four layers of cordorouy . . .whew! :) Had I thought it through earlier, I would have purchased a stronger needle for my machine . . .as it turned out, hand turning the wheel was sufficient to pierce through all the layers at seams.

Next came the lining. All of the purse was 'stuffed' into the bottom of the bag while the lining went on. A small opening was left, so that the bag could be turned, then the opening was hand-sewn.

Voila! A multi-colored bag with personality! Side A:

And, Side B:

The sewing of this purse was completed in an evening. Less than three hours, to be exact ~ a nice quick project.

Well, what do you think? Like it? Let me know! :)

Giants In The Land

And Moses sent them to spy out the land of Canaan, and said unto them, Get you up this way southward, and go up into the mountain . . . And they returned from searching of the land after forty days . . .And they told him, and said, We came unto the land whither thou sentest us, and surely it floweth with milk and honey; and this is the fruit of it . . . Nevertheless the people be strong that dwell in the land, and the cities are walled, and very great: and moreover we saw the children of Anak there.

And Caleb stilled the people before Moses, and said, Let us go up at once, and possess it; for we are well able to overcome it. Numbers 13

Aubrey shadowed me tight as we began our descent to the ballroom. The moment of reckoning had come. There was no plausible way we as a family could separate. She would have to enter the callback room with us.

The refrain continued. "Aubrey, it's not over until it's over. Give God the glory. Let's see what He might do. Even if we walk away, and your hands are empty, we know we can add skills. Try again. If your really want this, the journey is not over."

Her ability to recover from the emotional disaster was proving to be the hardest battle she'd ever fought this side of losing her Dad. Wasn't it enough that she had 'lost'? Why did she have to go in there . . .and face them?

Face them she must. Her brother had been summoned by the 'big guys' in the industry.

Entering the room, we sought to acclimate ourselves. Already, lines had formed at various tables, and our original plan to go to each agent in alphabetical order would not pan out. We found one gentleman, who was just finishing with a participant.

This man was distinguished. And older gent, with greying hair, modernized fifties-style glasses and a gentle demeanor. He discussed how his particular agency operated, then listed for us the next step requirements for Israel's journey. Would we be willing to take a family vacation to LA, wherein Israel could be placed in front of a larger group of associates; the opportunity to attend a few auditions?

This request, while a known factor previously, was suddenly in our court. Our heads began to swim. Yes. We'd come.

More instructions.
Notes.
More notes.

"Thank you for your time."

We stood up, and once again surveyed the room, the agency lines. The Acme Agency was open.

Aubrey shadowed me again, but after the initial connection, she ever so slightly began to be a part of the conversational process. This time, to her benefit.

As we spoke with the woman before us, she gave her instructions to Israel, and her agency facts and desires. She took our presence as a family in. She noted Aubrey's participant number. "You are siblings?" she queried. "Yes" replied Aubrey. "I had not made that connection." the agent said.

Aubrey quickly found herself the subject of a number of personal questions. "What were you hoping to accomplish this weekend? Acting? Super. I want you to do this for me . . ." and the list began.

Aubrey was dumbfounded.

"But I didn't receive a callback" she stated in protest.

The woman looked at her and smiled. "I'm giving you a callback. Right now."

We looked at each other with squeals in our eyes! The Lord had descended upon the scene and performed a MIRACLE! Aubrey had faced the giants . . .the giants of decision in the department of 'how to respond to disappointment.'

First giant: down.

Now to continue our trek.

Agent after agent met with us. Israel presented himself to each one fresh. Instructions were given. Notes were taken.

Aubrey faded in and out as we did so. One moment elated, the next disappointment sought to take over again. With only one agent left to see, she dismissed herself to the ladies room.

Israel sat before the man and began the now familiar discussion. "Israel, tell me why you are here."

"Well," Israel began. "I originally came because of my sister. Acting is her passion. . ."

The agent interrupted. "You have a sister here? Just a minute. What is her number? Ah ~ yes . . .I had made a few notes. Where is she now?" as his eyes travelled our family unit.

Aubrey had not yet returned. Israel's interaction with the man continued.

Almost finished, Aubrey walked into the room.

"Hello, Aubrey. I'm Mr. Smith. I'd like you to prepare a three minute monologue and put it on DVD for me . . ."

Don'cha?

Don'cha get bummed when your favorite bloggers fall off the face of the earth on the weekends?

While I'm gracious and all, and appreciate people having lives that do not entail sitting in front of a computer screen, I still look forward to that little respite that comes on a relaxing day. When it's not there, well . . .bummer.

Oh.

What?

YOU feel the same way too??

Gee.

What like-mindedness we seem to have!

Hmmm? What did you say?

Oh! YOU are waiting for ME to give you a weekend update???

How silly of me! I never knew you were waiting on ME of all people. Sheesh!

Ummmmm . . .well . . .life bowled me over today. And, well, I'm currently recuperating with a bowl of freshly made HOMEmade beef stew. And fresh baked French Bread. With butter.

So, if you'll excuse me . . .just for a few more hours.

After all ~ Aubrey is standing in faith . . .will you?

:)

532

We broke for lunch.

The powerful river of people that had burst the door open to get in, now meandered happily in and out of the threshhold with an intensity that depicted a waterfall ahead.

The second round of callbacks was about to begin.

The buzz of the children was delightful. Aubrey smiled and chatted and smiled again. Israel, ever the boy, darted through the glass doors of the building to climb upon the garden walls outside. Gil and I spoke with several families, participants, and staff members of the event.

It was unspoken, the decision to return to the auditorium. The crowd moved almost as one, and took seats with nary a complaint or press. The thoughts of so many, although unspoken, were visibly audible. Who would be tapped on the shoulder to be viewed and considered - placed even, with an agency?

The MC and his assistant took seats upon the platform. Final words of instructions, and edifications were given.

"We will call the name of an agency, and the participant number of all they callback. After we've read the callbacks for each agency, if your number has not been called, you are dismissed. If you've been selected, you will go to the ballroom, where each agent has a table set up. You will speak with each agency that has requested your number."

The River suddenly shifted, preparing to tumble down over the cliff of hope and desire.

It began:

"Acme Agency. You will speak with Jane:
12, 29 101, 321, 541, and 810.

Generation X Agency. You will speak with James:
321, 323, 422, and 532."

Did our ears decieve us? Was that Israel's number? YES! It was!

Yet there was no time to register the excitement, we had to listen carefully. The yet forty agencies had to be heard.

"532."

"532.'

"and 532."

"532"

Over and over again, Israel's number was called.

The emotional torrent was such: We'd thrill quickly for 532, then, with ears strained, listen again, to the next agent numbers, holding our breath, listening for 531 - Aubrey's number. Each round was a cresendo of hope, internal congratulations for Israel, followed by a crash of disappointment for Aubrey, rounded by yet another wave of intese hope that the next set would house her call.

Finally, the last agent was set to call. The microphone carried an intensity as the auditorium sat in utter silence, waiting with bated breath:

"101, 468, 721, and 810."

Hot tears welled in Aubrey's eyes, and I positioned myself next to her so she could bury her head in my shoulder. The heart tear I had experienced the night before had returned, with a searing vengence: Excitement of and for one child, shouldering the disappointment of and for the other.

Again, there was little time to react.

The MC stood and asked all who had recieved call backs to stand. The River forked in a pronounced divide.

Then, meticulously, he began a countdown. "If you've received 2 callbacks, please remain standing. If you've recieved 3 callbacks, please remain standing . . ." and so on until only three people in the room remained upright.

A young woman in her 20's ahead of us, a young gent in his 20's to our side, and a young boy between us: 13 to be exact. The only child among the top three.

"If you've received 10 call backs, please remain standing." Israel sat down.

Nine.

Nine.

Israel had received nine call backs.

The young gent, 10; the young woman, 14.

Number 532 had recieved nine call backs.

The River, now a Tributary moved to report to the ballroom.

Pan To Commercial Break

Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, it is now time for a word from our sponsor ~

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[camera pans to well dressed, 50's style student, who is reading the book and smiling]

[voice over returns] Yes, ladies and gentlemen! $19.95 plus shipping and handling! . . .

[commercial scratches to a halt . . .A wild-eyed ChoiceCentral author looms ahead in the screen]

$19.95 . . .AND an EMAIL from your MOTHER!!

Well, ok. Not YOUR mother . . .MY mother. aka The Grammar Guru!

Yes . . .my delightful, unassuming, gentile, gracious mother felt it was best for the blogosphere at large that I correct a few *ahem* mistakes.

Well, ok.

One.

One mistake.

Change T H I E R to T H E I R.

Seems I have a little habit of mispelling that word.

Then there is my GilGuy - He felt compelled to inform me a few days ago that my punctuation when working with quotes was incorrect.

I DEMAND A RE-READ! WHERE IS MY ENGLISH TEACHER, Luella Sedivy?

Humph! There is only one answer to all of this! It's time for a little PUNCT-uation! PUN-PUN-PUN-PUNCT-uation!




Ah. *sigh.*

There. I feel much better now.

I now return you to your regularly scheduled blog-cast.

*No Mother's were harmed during this blogosphereic rant.

Love you, Mom! :)

Of Catwalks And Callbacks - Part 2

The day dawned fresh - and buzzing. We had adjusted attitudes, refreshed vision, and most importantly, we had prayed. There we were, in a crowd of dreamers and their support systems, waiting for the doors to open.


Today was the day.

Today the agents would view and decide forward motion for many.

To those who received a call back, the opportunity to step into the process of engaging employment in a diverse industry.

To those who did not receive a call back, a place of decision. Would they continue to pursue their dream, or would they allow the dream to die? Would they utilize persistence and find other opportunities, or would they wither and wallow in a sense of defeat? Each would choose his or her own path.

All of that could be pondered later. For now, there was a task at hand. Each individual would present thier ability in being themselves, and revealing their inherit personna.

The agenda was set: Catwalk. Photo Review. Monologue Presentations.

The doors swept open, and a living river of people rushed in as if a dam had burst. Before we knew it, Aubrey and Israel’s numbers had been called.

Catwalk. There she was. Cute. Confident. Unique among all the other girls. A fifteen year old girl who could easily pass for a twelve year old, both in form and innocence.

Israel went next.

The Photo Review. Side by side they walked. Talked. Smiled.

The gentleman with the blue shirt with his back to the camera is from MTV. The woman to his left, Classic Entertainment.

Finally, the closing section:

Monologue Presentations.

The Pit

The disappointment descended upon Aubrey as a torrent of hot, profuse tears and the need to remove herself from everyone's space.

As I'd left Gil and the baby at the hotel to handle this task, I stood alone in the gap between the knowledge of loss and the knowledge of a primary step of success. I felt my heart drop; then split into two halves, each in need of accomplishing action items of expression for each child, respectively.

Another mother stood nearby, and, while not oblivious to the tidal wave that had just crashed into the shoreline of our lives, handled the matter the best way she knew how. She began small talk.

EGADS! [The word that fits so many occassions] My mind raced through the conversation, desparate to separate myself and celebrate with Israel - and rescue my daughter, who now stood some distance away, disheveled.

Finally, as graciously as I could, I stepped away, took Israel by the arm with a victorious punch of the air and eyes open wide and laughing with excitement, all without one spoken word. We both strode large steps to catch up with the beautiful braid that now wandered less without purpose; more with resolute steps that said "get me outta here!"

We did. Silently, the three of us walked the crisp night air three blocks to the vehicle. And then, it happened.

Israel spoke.

There are times when a mother knows she's instilled good in her child because it bubbles to the surface and exposes itself for all the world to see. The young boy at my side revealed the inner workings of a man in the making; a gentleman who walks in humility of mind and heart.

"Aubrey, I'm so sorry this happened. I know your presentation was good, and that you wanted this very much. I wish it were you, instead of me, that had gotten the callback."

I was stunned. Aubrey did not respond. I suddenly knew that I had an even deeper job to do ~ restore Aubrey's vision.

The next few hours were spent ministering to the heart of both children. Israel had taken on a sense of guilt at the lack of Aubrey's ability to respond well to him, and Aubrey had flat out crashed and burned.

Slowly, though, the message crept into her range of thinking: "Aubrey, this event is not over. The door of opportunity has not shut. Tomorrow is your day to shine. Tomorrow, you know not what the Lord might do. Remember, in Facing the Giants, they lost the game. It looked like it was all over. Yet God chose to move on thier behalf because of thier heart attitude. Look up ~ and give your best. Including finding the place in your heart where you can truly express good towards your brother. It's not over until it's over!"

"Israel, this is a gift to you. Embrace it, and recognize that the Lord is working in Aubrey's heart for His good purpose. Allow Him to work with you here, in this place, where promotion has been granted to you. Use the opportunity well. Leave your best on the field."

Somewhere between tear number 4,652 and the opportunity to hop in the jacuzzi, Aubrey began smiling. The Lord had given me wisdom, and a mouth to speak well to her, but more importantly, opened her heart to hear.

Swimsuits donned, the dynamic duo left the room for some hot tub time. Now, it was time for rest. Keller style.

After all, it was only a few hours until daybreak, when once again we'd have to rise, bringing our best to the field of dreams that Aubrey had so earnestly prayed for.

Of Catwalks And Callbacks, Part 1

The day had flown by.

Young and old alike had been educated in an environment free from marketing frills or emotional hype. I found myself pleased that we'd come. After all ~ if this TRULY was Aubrey's desired course of action, she needed to hear and know on the front end that employment in the entertainment/advertising industry was not simply handed to the one who wanted it. Being employable meant an individual would have to hone, and possibly learn new skills.

One such skill involved the catwalk. Aubrey and Israel had been in another room, presenting thier monologue, while DiDiayer gave catwalk instructions in the main auditorium. She stood, and talked, and moved in one graceful brushstroke of an artists' tool. Mesmerized by her freshness, attune to her positive outlook, I anxiously awaited the children's return. I really wanted them to hear her. Her task? Instruction on how to present yourself well from the platform.

Return they did! Just in time to take thier place in line, numerical order, and rehearse.

The catwalk session closed out the day. The room continued to buzz with an ever-increasing excitement. All monologues had been presented, and all that remained was the wait to discover who made the callback sheet.

We sauntered to a local Mexican restaurant for the two hour wait. Both Aubrey and Israel were pleased with thier original presentation. Little did we know that our exhortation from earlier in the day would be pivotal in the entirety of the weekend.

"Remember Facing The Giants? Leave nothing on the field. Do your personal best. If we win, we give God the glory. If we lose, we give God the glory."

The place of tension between excitement of and for one child and the disappointment of and for another is so real and palpable; such a tightwire to walk . . .and we found ourselves right smack in the middle of it as we returned to find the results.

Israel's monologue presentation had earned him the priviledge of presenting on the platform the next day, in front of a host of agents.

On the list, Aubrey's number was no where to be found . . .

Away From The Hustle And Bustle ~

. . . a moment with his son . . .

Thou shalt love the LORD thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might. And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart: And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. Deuteronomy 6: 5-7

The Event Begins

In so many ways, it was a typical experience. The anticipation. The crowds. The waiting in line:


[ We had requested alot of Keller St. John: At three months, we'd asked him to live in a sling for eight plus hours a day. When he would awake from a nap, I'd remove him from his little hideaway, and give him some stretch time. This worked out well, and we were all very impressed that he handled the entire weekend without nary a complaint.]

Yet, for all the familiar, all the waiting, the knowledge that this event had forward motion potential of unprecedented proportions (or not) set a buzz in the room. Thankfully, one of the first speakers broke the ice with none other than a great sense of humor!

Chambers Stevens set the pace for the educational portion of the weekend. As a seasoned actor and model himself, with a bend toward working well with tweens and teens, he had the audience in stiches ~ and Israel up on stage:

Without alot of fanfare, Israel found himself in front of 1200 folks ~ and the subject of Chambers next round of jokes. While he was never cruel, Chambers' coaching only served to have everyone laughing at the obvious 'mistakes' that one might make in front of a microphone . . .and set out to polish the rookies, one by one.

Israel fared pretty well. Anunciation was his only area in need of polishing. Chambers corrected in such a way that one did not feel corrected at all . . .

Of course, a bit of blushing DID circle those on the platform. And a wee bit of chagrin once they returned to thier seats.

Unbeknownst to Israel, nor Aubrey, Chambers would be one of the judges in the first round of monologue presentations that would occur that afternoon. Those who made it through the first round, proceeded to the second day's presentation, in front of the entire crowd that had assembled . . .and on the platform in front of the agents, the reason why all had come.

Who would make it? The nervousness and excitement was so profound it was palpable . . .

Keller Does Kracker Barrell

Nothin' like komfort food on his very first road trip!

Opportunity Knocked

and opened the door.

We found ourselves supporting Aubrey's heartdream in a whole new way. What began as simple introduction to Community Theatre had morphed into an invitation to be put in front of over 40 top entertainment and advertising industry agencies via a ProScout Invitational Weekend.

Aubrey was ecstatic.

An opportunity not to be missed! Would we take her? Can she go? The only answer we had was a resounding "yes." The straightforward presentation from Marwan and Summer that night in Biloxi was refreshing. No hype. No emotional motivation. Just facts.

"The industry is not for everyone." Marwan had said. "It takes work, and committment, and dedication. Yet, if it is your dream, this is the way to receive exposure that works."

Soon, I became photographer extraordinaire. Gil employed is veteran PhotoShop skills to soften the makeshift background: a wrinkled plastic tablecloth. Together, we produced portfolio shots that made my heart pound!

Capturing Aubrey's photos had been the most challenging. To showcase her unique, one of a kind features, the appropriate angles were a must. Her natural beauty had to show through ~ her athletic physique revealed, yet maintain the girlish manner in which she still carries herself at fifteen. The end result? I felt as if I'd nailed it!

Israel's photos were easier. His innocence readily reverberated through ruggedly handsome features. All of this was aided by his innate clowning around nature. To capture him just-so . . .that was the task. The result? I recall gasping as I opened the top photo out of the digital rolodex that numbered in the hundreds:

It seemed inappropriate to send a full body photo of Israel in his most natural state, up in a tree, so I opted for this photo. Pleased would describe my thoughts:

It would appear we were ready to go. But not quite. Both of the children were required to select and present a monolouge. Pratice, practice, practice.

Finally, all the preparations were complete. Dell had been sent to DoggyDayCare. The gas tank was full. We were on our way . . .

Wordless Wednesday: Going Bye-Bye

The Poochie Perspective

Everyone needs a break away from the everyday routine now and then. A tossing aside of the norm that creates an appreciation of the status quo; the in and outs of day to day living. Agreed?

The DellDog certainly thinks so. Going bye-bye is his favorite pasttime. His excitement in undeniable:


While most trips take him driving in an hour or an afternoon, there are those seasons where he gets to lounge in luxury . . .at the local Doggie DayCare. A kennel located in the country . . .a respite of a woodsie sort:

He knows when we've arrived. And he gets VERY excited:

As we traverse the long driveway, coming closer . . .and closer . . .

He knows he's about to luxuriate for days on end, being pampered by attendants, and sharing doggie sniffs with the other travellers.
He expresses dismay at my departure, yet that emotion is quickly displaced as the opportunity to run the backyard is presented to him. He suddenly misses me no longer. I'm a mere figment of his memory, a shadow of love cast aside.

*sigh*

Such was the case as we departed last week . . .

Go Ahead. Laugh.

I did.

:)

It was the last hurrah of an incredible weekend. The likes of which I'll be sharing here over the next couple of days . . .At any rate, by the time we'd completed the tasks at hand, a type of euphoria had settled over us all. We just *had* to celebrate.

Ummmm ~ here, in part, is what that celebration looked like:


Gasp! and EGADS! Sputter! and Spew! WHAT on earth was happening with me when she took THAT photo??? LOLOL

We laughed ourselves silly (well, for the record, I did ::SNORT!::). I felt it only appropriate to share the joy.

Publically.
For all to see.
Discover.
and Wonder about.

We walked into the Purple Cow and sidled up to the soda counter. Since we'd never graced said such establishment before, our motto was: let the adventure begin!

I, apparently, was the only daredevil of the bunch.

The only one willing to take a risk.

While the rest of the family conservatively ordered vanilla milkshakes and chocolate sundaes, I, Angi The Brave, took on the excitement of ingesting, of all things, purple ice cream.

As you can see, the results were quite, er, exceptional:

(Don't ask. I have no idea. No explanation.)

When it was all said and done, I can report that the purple ice cream was pretty tasty . . .and I'm glad to be home.

The future holds a new nuance of mystery and excitement. Would you like to take the ride with us? There will be highs and lows, turns and sharp cliffs. Long periods of waiting, and intense moments that hold us on the edge of our seats for days, maybe weeks on end.

If you think you are up for the journey, then climb aboard. But, I'll advise you:

You might just want to order the Purple Cow.