Managaha Kitchen

That's me working the corn beef hash.

This year for the first time ever, I signed up for the Managaha Food Committee--essentially the kitchen crew for the weekend.


I like to cook of course, but the thought of feeding dozens of people at a time was daunting. Fortunately I had some seasoned mentors to guide me--Malou Bautista, one of our parents and a veteran member of the cooking squad for the past several years, and Virle Gayatin, our school office manager & accountant who was tackling the food for the second year. Thanks to these two women plus the rest of the food crew, my debut in food services turned out pretty well.


In the weeks and days leading up to Managaha we met and planned menus, shopped for food, and packed up the food and kitchen equipment we would need.


For supper the first night on Thursday and Friday morning breakfast, Malou and I were it. The rest of the culinary team didn't arrive until Friday. But we worked together well.


It felt a little odd, working on the kitchen crew. I felt somewhat distanced from the students and the activities that were going on. We were in our own world much of the time. I worked pretty much all day Friday, as I had responsiblities during all three days, but on Sabbath and Sunday other team members took over and I was able to relax a little bit and get involved in some other aspects of the weekend.


Here's the menu that I planned, purchased, and prepared:


Thursday night:
Subway sandwhiches and a slice of pizza
Chips
Peach cobbler for dessert (I made it at school on Thursday and foil wrapped it in individual bowls).
Juice

(The brilliance of this was that Malou and I didn't have to do any cooking Thursday night which was nice since we were busy unpacking and setting up camp).


Friday breakfast
Corned beef hash
scrambled eggs
pancakes
steamed rice
bread with peanut butter and jam
fresh fruit
juice



For Friday lunch we had an international potluck with food provided by our parents, many of whom came out with the younger students to spend the day with us. Despite not having to prepare a full meal I kept busy keeping things organized, doing dishes, and serving food during lunch.


For Friday evening we continued a tradition started several years ago where the students are divided into groups and make their own food, which they then share with everyone. I was in charge of the kitchen--lending out utensils as needed and so on, as well as leading one of the groups with the assistance of Ken Pearson. My group elected to bring the meat to the table. We planned a massive barbecue--which was a big mistake. We encountered all kinds of troubles.

First one of the student's parents accidentally bought a whole case of pork ribs rather than beef ribs. The kids cut up the ribs and marinated them before, after some consultation with the pastor, we decided to send the ribs back to Saipan and donate them to Malou's pork-eating parents. It was the right decision, I think, though when someone said it was a "great opportunity to witness" I wasn't sure what they meant. Sometimes I wonder if we think about what exactly we are "witnessing" to others. Cause it wasn't really clear what message we were sending beyond "We don't eat pork." But I think we need to provide more than that if we're truly going to "witness". The only message people get from "We don't eat pork" is: "They don't eat pork." We can't assume that people just know about the health benefits of avoiding pork, especially when we appear to not be so overly concerned about serving up unhealthy amounts of "clean" sugar and fat. The bottom line is that real push behind the Adventist anti-pork agenda is not really health, otherwise other unhealthy (but "clean") foods would get the same summary dismissal. It's a more vague sense that pork eating is mortal sin, and to be frank that kind of witness isn't quite so compelling or obvious to the rest of the world.


Miss Missy with the offending pork

But I digress. The pork was sent packing for less enlightened souls to consume. We still had the chicken kabobs, a bowl of raw marinated chicken leftover from lunch, fish, (two whole tuna that had to be gutted and cleaned. For me all this raw meat and literal buckets of blood was enough of a witness to me that vegetarianism is the way to go!) Our next trouble was the fire. First we started the fire too early and had to put it out to avoid it burning out before it was time to grill. Then when it was time to grill we couldn't get the fire going again. Finally one of our parents, Bob Bracken came to the rescue and got the fire going.


Bob Bracken fires things up

Only now the fire was too hot and we had to wait for it to cool down so the meat wouldn't burn. Then there was the delicate process of determining when the meat was done.


You know I love nuance and subtlety when it comes to debate and philosophy, but when it comes to cooking, it drives me nuts! I like things that are straightforward, a simple set of directions that if followed, will produce the perfect product every time. All this business of divining when the fire is right and the meat is done is very frustrating to me.

Still in the end, the meat was cooked proprely and the meal was great.





Malou advices the kids on the nuances of when the chicken is done.



Mmmm, mmmm. . dead flesh. My favorite!

The finished product with contributions from all the student groups including our own barbecued chicken at the top of plate adjacent to the corn on the cob.

On Sunday, the plan was to have cereal, fruit, and leftovers so that we wouldn't have to cook and could focus on packing the kitchen up. But Malou really wanted to make some hot dogs--just boil them up real quick--no big deal.

Fine.

And also maybe just a little bit of french toast. Real quick.

Sure.

So come Sunday morning and I arrive at the kitchen area and scrambled eggs are cooking, French toast, fried rice, hot dogs, bagels--the works.

Or we could not just have cereal.

But it was a cold and rainy Sunday morning, the hot food tasted delicious, we got the kitchen packed up in plenty iof time, and Malou pretty much saved my butt in the kitchen all weekend, so who was I to complain.

I shrugged my shoulders and tucked into a delicious breakfast.

The Second Best Part of the Best Managaha Campout Ever

On the ferry to Managaha Island

There she is! Managaha!

Looking back towards Saipan from the ferry. The large cruise ship is based out of Germany.

Almost there!

On the tourist side of Managaha

The statue of Carolinian Chief Aghurubw, located directly across from our campsite.


The boys side of the camp as viewed from the main pavilion where we ate and had our meetings.

The Best Part of the Best Managaha Campout Ever

This past weekend from Thursday, March 1 through Sunday, March 4 we had our annual Managaha Outdoor School Campout. For those of you that don't know, Managaha is a little island just off the coast of Saipan. You can walk around it in about 10 to 15 minutes. One side has marine sports rental areas, a couple of open air restuarant facilities, a gift shop and other tourist accessories, a vast white sand beach, and cordoned off swimming area. On the other side are quite picnic pavilions, a memorial to the great Carolinian Chief Aghurubw, brushy areas roped off as nesting sites for endangered birds, and stands of jungle. It is on this quieter side that we camp each year.

Outdoor school has been a Saipan SDA School tradition for seven years now. We take the entire school out to Managaha, starting with grades 7-9 on Thursday evening to set up camp in advance of the main group. Then on Friday, everyone from Pre-School on up comes out to join the older kids for a day of learning and fun in the sun. In the afternoon everyone in second grade and younger goes home sunburned and happy, while for the rest of the school the weekend continues. Grades 3/4 thrill to their first overnight stay at Managaha (they will stay one night and go home Sabbath afternoon) and grades 5/6 proudly stay with the "big kids" two whole nights until the campout ends on Sunday morning.

Now the truth is, historically, I have hated the Managaha weekend. I don't know why. I like camping. Managaha is beautiful. The kids are great. And yet, for years by Friday evening my mood is sinking like the setting sun, and by Saturday it's totally black. For whatever reason, I find myself cranky, irritable, stressed, angry throughout the weekend. But this year was different. This year for the first time, I actually stayed "up" through the entire weekend. Without a doubt, this was the best Managaha campout ever. I was at peace, affable, patient, even energetic. What made the difference? I don't really know. . .but I'm grateful. I feel like I may have finaly turned a corner on Managaha.

And what was the best part of the best Managaha campout ever you ask?

Why the people, of course!

The kids were wonderful. They maintained a great attitude all weekend long, helped out whenever they needed to, and eagerly embraced each planned activity. I really love these guys and it was a pleasure to spend the weekend.

It was nice to have our church out there with us as well. Most of the members came out Sabbath morning to worship with us and they planned a lot of the Sabbath activities. It was so nice to have their support. Our pastor, Eliki Ravia, came out with us for the entire four days and I really appreciated his presence, leadership, and involvement. The pastor is blessed with a natural charisma and all he has to do is be around, and the kids just respond to him.

The teachers of course were rock stars as always. I shouldn't have been surprised that they planned some of the coolest outdoor school lessons ever, most fun teambuilding activities, and most powerful, energetic worships. Grant was in his element and ran tight, entertaining, and challenging worships anchored by a message by Pastor. The theme was "Power" and we sang songs like "More Love, More Power" and "The Power of Your Love" to remind us of God's awesome power in our lives.

The cooking crew was great to work with, but I'll have a seperate blog on that topic!

And of course it was great to have good friends to share the weekend with us: A highlight of the weekend was easy chats on the beach, at the picnic table during mealtime, or by the bonfire with Carol Paez, Ken& Crystal Pierson, Bev, John Moreno, Derek & Myla, and our old friends the Ricardo and Gina Rankin, and their kids who flew up from Rota just to spend the weekend with us at Managaha like they used to when they lived on Saipan.

Friday night worship and Friday night bonfire

Sabbath morning worship

Our school board chairman and his daughter sing and play a duet of "Give Them All To Jesus" during the Sabbath morning church service, a song they've been singing together since she was in kindergarten.

One of the things I love about our school is how the little kids and the older ones mingle together so well. It always warms my heart to see one of the teens holding a third grader in their lap, a kindergartner clinging to a fifth grader. In this picture are 7th, 3rd, 9th, and 2nd graders.

Two students pose with their sand castle made during a Sabbath afternoon activity



Babs and I after a Thursday night team building activity in which our team had to try to drop chocolate pudding into our mouths. As you can see my team was a bit more gifted than Babs'.

California

Okay, actually it's Saipan, but it sure looks like southern California doesn't it? This photo was taken from the second story balcony at the front of our school looking northwest toward Mt. Topachau, which normally can be seen quite clearly from this vantage point but is now all but obliterated.

Last week Saipan got a taste of air pollution, as Anatahan the next island north of us spewed a noxious mix of fumes and ash from it's active volcano. Various meterological factors conspired to keep the haze hovering over Saipan for several days dirtying our normally brilliant blue skies and puffy white clouds. On Monday we heard that a random stranger slowed down next to the basketball court where some of the younger kids were playing and screamed at them to go inside before they were poisoned by the toxic air. On Tuesday the public schools cancelled classes due to the haze, and I noted groups of the students from Hopwood Junior High School walking home past our school, their hands over their noses to protect delicate airways.

Anatahan caused quite a bit of consternation, but do you want to know a secret? I actually kind of liked the haze. It was kind of exotic, and it made me feel like I was living somewhere else--the big cities of Los Angeles, Seoul, or Bangkok. Even a paradise like Saipan can get kind of "old hat" when you've lived here for 8 years. Seeing the vistas of Saipan transformed by gauzy gray-brown haze, the warm deserty glow created by the sun shining through, the burnished blue of the sky above, excited my imagination and had me humming "California", the theme song to The O.C. all week long. Of course, knowing that eventually the smog would float away and we'd have our perfect skies back again helped too. I mean, I love California. But I wouldn't want to live there!

Five Things You May Not Know About Me

1. I have Filipino relatives


2. I used to live on a farm.

3. I got lost in European cities at night. Twice. In less than 24 hours. The first time was in Utrecht, the Netherlands after I'd gone out with a girl I met and was trying to walk back to the place where I was staying. The second time was the very next night in Stuttgart, Germany when my buddy J and I couldn't find our hostel. We found it with only minutes to spare before they locked up for the night.

4. The first album I ever bought was Tiffany. It was 1987 and it was a tape cassette. I had a huge thing for Tiffany in 1987. Pictures of her cut out of Teen Beat in my journal and everything. Even today, every time I hear "I think we're alone now". . . .

5. And lest you think I'm a total weenie: I have fired every type of gun imaginable--44 Magnum, Glock 9 mm, pump action shotgun, 30.30, civilain versions (i.e. semiautomatic as opposed to fully automatic) of the M-16 and Ak-47, the list goes on. You name it, I've shot it. I bet you never thought I was so "gangsta!" Actually, my friends in high school Chris and Greg were serious gun nuts.

An Afternoon in the Garden of Eden

The Lord God took the man and put him into the garden of Eden to cultivate it and to keep it.
--Genesis 2:15


I’ve found the garden of Eden and it’s going by the name “The Mandi Asian Spa”!

Sometimes we make the mistake of thinking that nature “as is” is as God intended it to be. The untamed wilds, the dense jungles, the deserted beaches, the craggy mountain tops—indeed, these are beautiful and awe inspiring. But there is another kind of beauty, that I believe is also of God—the beauty that comes when man and nature work hand in hand. While it was God’s plan to create those wild places which no man can tame, he also gave us the responsibility and the privilege to tinker about with his creation and see what we might make of it. Made in His image, we are “makers” too just as he is.
The Mandi is one such place where the beauty of God’s creation and that of His children come together in pretty close to perfect harmony.



After Keisha’s birthday party, Barbara and I drove out to the Mandi. It was 4:30 in the afternoon when we left the beach, and I was secretly hoping “we” would decide not to go. It was late and I knew we’d only have maybe two hours at the Mandi before we went on to dinner at Coffee Care. This was to have been our “Valentines Day” date since we didn’t do anything last week. It was so busy with the REAL dinner show, Valentines Banquet, and fundraising seminar all weekend, that we decided to postpone our day of romance to the 18th. But then, we found out about Keisha’s debut and we spent more time there then we planned. And now it seemed like a waste of $15 for each of us, to spend just two hours there.

Fortunately, Barbara knew better and insisted that we go anyway. How glad I am that she did.
The Mandi Asian Spa is on the premises of the Marianas Resort—a low slung resort hotel that holds the distinction for being the northernmost hotel on the island of Saipan. The next stop after the Marianas Resort is the heights of Suicide Cliff, the wilds of Cowtown, Bird Island, Kalabera Cave and all the other highlights of uninhabited Saipan. The Marianas Resort is unassuming, giving little hint to the treasure it holds. The entrance to the Mandi is a humble gate off to the side of the main entrance to the hotel.


Babs at the main entrance to the Mandi Asian Spa

You walk down a winding landscaped path until you reach a second gate, an Asian style doorway, and when you step through you have arrived in paradise. There is quiet music playing, the furniture in the waiting area is all heavy, tropical hardwood. To your left is a locker area and a basket of complimentary straw sandals. In the Mandi, no one wears their own shoes. We stow our shoes in a locker, pay our entrance fee, are presented with freshly laundered towels, and then enter the spa area proper.

Gateway to Paradise: The second entrance to the Mandi Asian Spa

The first thing that struck me was the luxury of the appointments. Everything is clean, beautifully decorated, artfully appointed. I’m used to Saipan, the Brokedown Paradise, where even the nicest of places often has a vaguely musty air and streaks of mold running up the walls if you look carefully. The Mandi seemed to have none of this.

Babs and I separated to shower before going into the pools. This is a Japanese cultural practice—it’s considered really gross to go swimming if you haven’t showered first. I always hate doing it—I expected a pole with a couple of showerheads jutting out and a chain that I’d yank on to douse myself with icy cold water. I headed towards the men’s locker area. A vase sat in recessed display space in the wall dividing the entranceway to the men’s locker room—the kind of gratuitous use of space one expects to find in a five star hotel. I glanced into the shower area—not a shower pole in sight. Instead, massive marble private showers with large frosted glass doors, and inside each one dispensers with shampoo, conditioner, and body lotion. I continued on to the locker area—everything was wood—the lockers and the benches, and something about wooden lockers in place of the usual harsh, dented metal made the place feel richer somehow. Just being amidst all that warm wood, I could feel myself relaxing—my breathing slowing, and deepening, the tension in my muscles that I didn’t even know was there easing, my pace slowing.

I undressed and padded down to the showers in my towel, found an empty shower and entered. The water was mercifully warm, the pressure nice and strong. This was not a hurry-up-and-rinse-off-before-the-fun-begins—this was part of the Mandi experience! The shower alone was worth the price of admission!

After a luxurious hot shower, I pulled on my bathing suit and left the locker area and went out to wait for Barbara. This is the site that greeted me:

I sat on one of the wooden benches, listening to the splash of the water falling into the pool and the unobtrusive music, and watching a couple frolic happily in the pool. Eventually Barbara joined me and she set out to show me all her favorite spots. First we went out to one of the deck areas, facing the Philippine Sea.

The view of the Mandi looking back from the deck

Kicking back at the Mandi

We lay out in the late afternoon sun for a bit, talking some, reading our magazines, and looking out at the waves, before heading over to the infinity pool. It’s heated and feels just like a giant bathtub. We sat in the shallow water of the pool for awhile, watching the infinity edge merge with the blue of the water beyond. When the water got too warm for me, I sat on the edge of the pool with my back against the sheer wall the water ran down to enter the pool and let it bathe my head and back.

As sunset neared we considered swimming in the main pool, but then opted for the flower bath instead—another heated pool located in a secluded area and brimming with tropical flowers that provide a subtle aroma. Sunset came while we lounged in the flower bath, and we came out and found a place on yet another deck to catch the final glory of the sunset before night fell.

The "regular" pool at the Mandi at twilight

As I settled on of the wooden deck chairs (The Mandi loves wood. I don’t think I saw a piece of plastic or metal the whole time I was there), I remarked to Barbara that the temperature was perfect. Here I was, having just toweled off and still wearing nothing but a wet bathing suit, and I was completely comfortable. There was not the slightest hint of a chill, not even remotely hot—just comfortable in way that air conditioning can never be. We sat talking for about 45 minutes and not once did I begin to feel chilled or start to sweat. It was then, as I watched the sun disappear and a sliver of moon appear with a single brilliant star above it, and a sprinkling of stars beginning to dust the darkening sky, that I thought of the Garden of Eden.

Sunset at the Mandi

This is what the garden must have been like--all of God’s natural beauty lovingly cultivated and cared for by His children. And then of course, it wasn’t long before we were talking about heaven, and for a moment we imagined that we were there and the Philippine Sea was the Sea of Glass, and the glow on the horizon was not from the setting sun, but that of the Holy City, and behind us was not man-made resort, but a home built especially for us by our Savior and Friend. We talked about what it would be like to no longer be bound by the limits of time and mortality, to work hard without ever growing weary, to play and relax without feeling that time would run out on us.

We don’t really know what heaven will be like. The Bible tells us “eye has not seen nor ear heard” what God has in store for us there. Whatever we can imagine, heaven will be that much better. Sadly as result, the failure of our imagination, perhaps leads us to place a low value on paradise. We can’t imagine a life without stress, without pain, without the ever-looming Clock inexorably counting down the minutes left in our lives, and we find it easy to assume a life without these constants would be “boring” or “lacking in meaning.” Or we assume that God will take away whatever are our dearest pleasures in this life and replace them with long white robes, and a lot of harp music and cloud-sitting. People argue that there won’t be marriage in heaven, that there won’t be sex, that our pets are ineligible for salvation, and I sometimes think that insisting on these questionably “Scriptural” truths unintentionally detracts from what eternity has to offer. We may not mean to, but we are essentially suggesting that heaven won’t be that great. Wouldn’t it be so much easier to just expect that all those things—every joy and every pleasure found on this earth—will be found in heaven. Even if they aren’t it’s not like any of us would be disappointed since whatever will take their place will be so much better. But in the meantime, I like to think of heaven having the very best of life on this earth with none of the bad to mar it. It’s hard to imagine, or appreciate I know, but if you’re having a hard time picturing heaven, I suggest a day at the Mandi. Paradise won’t seem so hard to picture there.

"Adam & Eve" living it up in the Garden.

Putting the “Man” in the Mandi Asian Spa

For a long time I wasn’t really interested in going to the Mandi. Barbara had been raving about it ever since her first visit more than a year ago, but for some reason I just never felt like it was for me. I guess it just didn’t seem like a very masculine place. And while, I’m pretty at ease in my masculinity and was sure I’d have a “nice” time if I eve went, it didn’t seem like the sort of place I’d seek out. I guess I pictured a lot of women in mud masks and cucumbers on their eyes getting massages and doing yoga.

Of course I was wrong, and for my fellow men who may be reading this blog a few suggestions for putting the “Man” in the Mandi.

1. First, take a hard ride on your mountain bike out on the northern end of the island first. Let the Mandi be your reward. Arrive at her gates sweating, dirty, exhausted but triumphant.

2. Take a long cool shower.

3. Settle on one of the decks chairs for a good long read. I recommend “The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire” or a good Steven Ambrose title.

4. Be sure to take a bracing dip in the cold pool. A guest while I was there said he was in that pool to “remind him of home” (I guess the water was that cold. I chose not to be reminded).

5. Move on to the infinity pool. (Bringing your book for more reading is optional).

6. Take a few laps in the main pool.

7. Do a little writing on one of the decks or kick back with some Hemingway in the relaxation room.

8. SKIP the flower bath and the hot tub (unless you’re with your girlfriend or wife).

9. End up the day with long and lazy hot shower.

10. Go back to your life, refreshed and energized.

Happy Birthday Keisha!

Keisha. Strong. Smart. Brave. Beautiful.

My first memory of her is of her in third grade, my first year at the Saipan SDA School, showing up for the school Spirit Week "twins" day dressed as a twin of her stuffed cow--the two of them both wearing a black and white Holstein dress and Keisha scowling, daring anyone to laugh at her. From the start, Keisha made an impression on me and she's never stopped. I'm very proud of all that she's accomplished and wish her the very best and brightest future. God bless you, Keisha, and Happy 18th birthday!

Keisha's been a veteran of REAL Christian Theater since she was in fifth grade! Here she is on stage performing in Rota last fall.

"Bono Girl" Keisha Paez, the woman with a million shades.



On Friday, February 16, our dear friend and former student Keisha Paez turned 18. On Monday, Februray 18, she had a beach party debut. She’s half Filipina and for Filipina girls, the 18th birthday is a really big deal. Most girls have a huge, fancy party called debut which features people in formal wear, 18 roses, and 18 escorts and all that kind of thing. Well, Keisha decided to do debut in her own unique style and had a huge beach barbecue at the beach behind Aquarius resort.

The highlight of the afternoon was when various people had the opportunity to share memories of Keisha and give her advice for the future. Barbara and I were both asked to speak and we were honored to be a part of this special moment in Keisha’s life.

Keisha and Babs chopping up chicken for barbeque. Keisha's on the right with the towel on her head. The night before Keisha's debut (which was also the night of Keisha's directorial debut--pun intended--she was the director of Class Reunion, our dinner theater show) Babs and I went over to the Paez house to help with making the food. Actually Babs did the helping, I just sat around and watched and went on the internet. . .

The backdrop to the Birthday party.

Keisha listens appreciatively to the tributes.

Babs, Keisha, and Me

The Dickie Morgan Makeover

"Dickie Morgan" Before (Circa 1987), Pictured with girlfriend "Tiffy Leapalong"

"Dickie Morgan" after (Circa 2007) Pictured with a person he claims he used to date; She disputes the claim.

Sunday morning, the day of our REAL Christian Theater dinner theater fundraiser. The phone rings and it’s Grant. He's been sick all weekend, and now he's called to say he’s still pretty sick and won’t be able to make it to our dinner show performance that night. Aloud, “I say, hey it’s okay, we’ll work it out. Get better soon.”

Inside I was cryng “Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!”

What were we going to do? Grant had one of the major roles in the dinner show, that of the ultra-arrogant and annoying Dickie Morgan! Who were we going to replace him with? I tried my friend Dan, a professional actor. He couldn’t do it. That only left one person: me. I knew the play well, having helped Keisha direct it during the rehearsals. I could use the script but hopefully I’d be familiar enough with the lines to not have to read them all. There was the little detail of me looking nothing like Grant, but we’d have to let that slide.

I frantically started studying the lines. I’m afraid I wasn’t much help to Carol and Britni during the set-up and decoration. I was too busy studying lines like mad.

In the end it turned out great though. I actually ended up not having to use the script at all, and I don’t think I missed a single line. And playing Dickie was FUN! It was really fun to play such an obnoxious, conceited fellow, to say and do all kinds of bombastic things I would never say or do in real life. I had a blast!

Herewith a description of REAL Christian Theater’s fundraising dinner show, Class Reunion, as described in the voice of the character I played, Dickie Morgan:

"The Charmer" at work. Here I am chatting up some alumni. Note how their attention is totally riveted on me. This happens with me a lot. Personal magnetism, I guess.

As you can see from the pictures above I’ve changed quite a bit since high school. I know it’s hard to believe that a guy as good-looking and popular as I was in back in the day could actually get better. But there you have it. The pictures don’t lie. Time has been good to Dickie Morgan, what can I say. You can see that I have gotten a great tan. . .this is because I’m now based out of Hawaii. I own and operate a very successful food franchise business there, as you may have heard. We’re just raking it in, to be honest with you. And that’s what it’s all about isn’t it folks? Making the big bucks. We’ve got an operation in Oahu now and plan to open a second location in Kauai by the end of this year. I’m sure you noticed how trim I look. Amazing isn’t it? What happens to most ex-football players as they enter middle age? I’ll tell you what happens! They get fat. But not me. I work out daily in my personal gym in my home—actually in both my homes—the one in Hawaii AND Manhattan. And despite what you may think, especially looking at my facial features—no, there was no plastic surgery (to speak of). That’s just those amazing Morgan genes. Those of you with a discerning eye were probably looking at that jacket I’m wearing and thinking, “Hey, isn’t that Armani?” And, hey! You’re right it is! Lucky for me, with my business success, buying Armani is like shopping Wal Mart is for most you. I figure, here am I a successful, wealthy businessman, I might as well look the part, you know what I’m saying?

"Workin' the Room" That's me and Simon at the Reunion. Class of '87, baby!

Mrs. Stonecipher and Gina Gofar (Above left back in 1987, and above on the night of the Class Reunion)

So in this play, I fly back—first class of course--to Looneyville High School—Go LEMMINGS! YEAH!—where I was captain of the football team and went All State my senior year—WHAT’S UP FOOTBAAAAAAALLLLLL! YEAH!! I saw my old my teammates and tons of old girlfriends. Of course everyone remembered me, but I have to admit I couldn’t remember everyone I met. When you’re as popular as I was a lot of times there are people who know you, but you don’t know who they are. I guess all famous people have that problem. . .Anyway, I go to this reunion, meet up with my old flame Tiffy who of course is totally dying to go out with me again (can you blame her?). Some of my other classmates were there: Bernie Duzalot the class president, Simon Reedlip, who apparently is some sort of rock star now and goes by the name Bobby Breedlove (roll eyes). He seemed a bit cocky to me. Oh, and Gina Gofar who was voted most likely to succeed, and who is now in prison! Ha! Maybe they should have voted for me!


Our class president Bernie Duzalot revs up the crowd

Mrs. Stonecipher boring us to death as usual.


Simon Reedlip, now going by his rock n roll stage name, Bobby Breedlove. Gimme a break.

Anyway, we eat and hang out and I’m making plans to get a limo after the show so that me and some of the ladies who’ve held up a bit better over the years can head out on the town, when things start to go wrong. First of all our old principal, Mrs. Stonecipher, who’s now like 90 years old turns up dead. We can’t figure out what happened. Then this guy Bobby Wobby who’s Gina’s parole officer appears out of the crowd and says we all have to stay put until we figure out who killed her. Then next thing you know, the lights go out, someone sticks a syringe in my neck, and a few minutes later. Bang. I’m dead.

What a loss to the world. At any rate, after that the rest of the play is my classmates trying to figure out who did me in, but I won’t go into that. It’s not that interesting anyway, since I’m not in it anymore. The only thing I can’t figure out is why someone would want to kill the most likable, most popular and successful, and good looking guy at the party—me! Jealousy, I guess. That’s what happened to all the greats—Lincoln, Kennedy, Lennon, Dickie Morgan. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.

My sorry demise. Proof positive that envy kills, folks.

So that’s my take on Dickie Morgan.

Just a word about the pictures. The "before pictures" were taken a few weeks ago to be used as decorations on the night of play and also in our publicity posters. I thought "Holly" looks particularly fantastic as old Mrs. Stonecipher.

Since both my character and "Holly's" "died" halfway through the play we spent the rest of the performance hiding out--she up in the sound booth with Britni and me in the hotel kitchen where the cast members dragged me. I spent the final 45 minutes of the play sitting in the kitchen, listening to the play going on out in the ballroom, playing with my cell phone and waiting for the show to be over. The audience had the opportunity to vote on who the "killer" was, and the majority of the audience were able to figure it out--the clue was the color of the flower found in Mrs. Stonecipher's hand. It matched the flower of the "killer." The script actually allowed for three different endings with three different culprits and we learned all three endings. For the dress rehearsal at the school it was Bernie Duzalot, the class president, played by "Harry" and for our Sunday evening show, "Photobug" and "CK Girl" did rock, paper, scissors to decide which one would be the killer for that performance. "CK Girl" who played former cheerleader and ex-girlfriend of Dickie, ended up being the perp for our show that night.

The kids did a fantastic job, and stayed in character throughout the evening. It was a fun night!