Just One Security Guard

On a warm beautiful night in Los Angeles, I stood in an alley looking at the backstage door of Jimmy Kimmel Live.  On my left was a line of crazed fans waiting to meet my favorite band, Jimmy Eat World, and in front of me was one round security guard. I knew I had to get by him, but how?

Wait, let's back up.

I arrived to Jimmy Kimmel Live with one goal, find out where Jimmy Eat World would be playing a secret show later that night.  Throughout the night I asked every person about the secret show; the stage hands, the band photographer, the production assistants.  Every single person told me the same thing - there was no secret show that night.  But I KNEW there was.  It was happening and no amount of charm convinced them to let me in on the classified info.

My friend Amanda and I watched Jimmy Kimmel Live and when it was done we were filed us out through an alley.  I shuffled my feet slowly - full of disappointment.  Then it hit me.  You know who would tell me about the show?  The band.  I know that meeting the band seems more impossible than finding out about a secret show, but I've never been a person to back down from the impossible.

Because I used to work at The Tonight Show, I knew exactly how the backstage of a late night show worked.  I knew the band was just beyond that backstage entrance and I knew I could get to them.  I was just one security guard away.

I stopped for a moment to decide if I would try to flirt with the security guard to get in, or just act like I was too important to talk to him. A woman from the line of fans distracted the security guard and I knew I had a 3 second window to make this happen.  Without hesitation I commanded Amanda, "Don't stop walking."  I took off with purpose through that backstage entrance like I owned the place.  The security guard yells. "Hey, wait!"  We kept walking and I yelled back with a smile, "It's ok, I'm with the people who are going to be so we can just...."  My total gibberish trailed off as we got far enough away from him that I knew he couldn't catch us. He wouldn't chase us because the backstage door can't be left unattended.  Now, just in case he used the radio to call another security guard, we had to blend in right now.

Trying to slow my heart, I looked around at all the little groups of Hollywood types chatting.  I had to find who ever looked important immediately. There was the bass player chatting with a couple people.  I dragged Amanda over to them and we stood there like we were part of the conversation. A security guard wasn't going to bug us while talking to the band.

After we chatted for a bit, the lead singer came over. (That made us look even more legit.) We have a quick conversation about nothing and before they got bored of us I said, "Hey, where are you playing next?"  The bass player casually said, "Phoenix, AZ."  Then I lowered my voice, got a little closer and said, "No, where are you playing NEXT."  He contemplated his next move.  He looked at me.  He looked at Amanda.  Then he looked over to his left and yelled, "Hey Sam, where are we playing next?"  Sam yelled back "Phoenix." Then he yelled back "No, where are we playing NEXT?"  This clearly grabbed Sam's attention because he instantly left his conversation to join us.  He leaned in to me and whispers "650 Schrader Blvd."

I was speechless. My crazy plan actually worked.

The bass player says, "Will we see you over there?"

"Absolutely."

A security guard was eyeing us, so we said a quick goodbye and we got out of there fast.  We drove over to the small little venue where the huge bouncer wouldn't let us in.  Obviously, our name wasn't on this list.  Now what?

Because I had toured with a rock band in the past, I knew the important people usually hung out in the alley.   Sure enough, behind the venue we found a clump of people.  There was only one guy in a suit.  I walked directly up to Mr. Suit and said, "The guys just told us to come over here, but the bouncer won't let us in. Who can get us in?"  To my surprise, Mr. Suit didn't say anything but instead a scruffy looking dude to my left chimed in. "The band told you to come here?"

"Yah."

"They didn't tell me."

Mind racing... with a smile I said, "Well, we can just wait here until they get here to tell you."

And with that, he said, "Just tell the bouncer that Davis said you could go in."

I slyly reached over and squeezed Amanda's arm. 

After getting passed the bouncer, Amanda and I entered the smallest club ever.  About 30 minutes later, the band took the stage.  Halfway through the show, the bass player saw me and I waved.  He said "You made it!"  He didn't say it into a microphone or yell, he just said it because I was only like 10 feet away from him.  With a shrug and a huge smile I said, "Sure did!"  They played through the album Futures and then played a couple more bonus songs.

It was the best concert experience of my life.

I try to remember this night when my goals aren't so close and immediate. Life goals are further away.  It can feel impossible and I just want to give up.  But the truth is that there is always another option.  Your life experiences and your courage will get you to your goals if you just keep going. 

The Pizza Slicer

This is how First Rate Single Life works these days.

I learn Lady Gaga choreography because there is no one to get annoyed at the tiny house bobbing around.

I listen to ridiculous music in the car because no one has to hear me screech those high notes.

I learn how to cook because no one has to taste how bad it is, but then one day I will be making a pizza. And I realize that I don't know how to take it out of the oven.  No big deal, I just ask Facebook.  And in that conversation someone mentions cutting it.  Oh God, how do I cut it? I don't have a pizza cutter.

So, I dive into the drawer to find a large knife only to discover that I have a pizza cutter!  I'm so genuinely excited, I post a pic that is just filled with real joy.

I cut my pizza, sit down and enjoy it.

While reviewing the Facebook post I think, "Seriously though, how did I get a pizza cutter?"  And then it hits me.  He put it there.  He bought it. He was ready for things, I'm not.  He made life easier. Now life's just a little harder and I don't even know how to get a freakin pizza out of an oven.

Then I cry.

And I'll probably cry a couple more times.  Then I will sleep and wake up in the morning, dance a little bit and cook a little bit and heal a little bit.  And everyday will be a little easier.

 

Zoom Terror

You may not know that I used to be a singer. I toured the country with a Christian singing group. I used to have a pretty good range. I used to be a good size fish in a tiny little pond, but that was too many years ago to admit. Just like every muscle in your body if you don't use it, you lose it. So recently, I have become a very successful drivers seat singer.

However, in this pandemic I have decided to find ways to grow. Yesterday there was a zoom class offered to work on vocal technique. I turned off my mic. I turned off the camera and away we go. (You guys, zoom classes are so amazing right now because you can be AWFUL and no one will ever know.)

 As the class began, we started doing techniques and the teacher had everyone muted, but was giving correction on what she saw. "Relax your shoulders. Lower your jaw." I thought, "Well, i can do that." So, I turned my camera on. I got a correction and I was so happy to be improving.

 Then, terror.

 She says "Liz Hetzel, let's hear you." You guys. Why she picked me out of all those people, why I had to sing, what made me stand out, I have no idea. But I decided this is my chance to have an amazing vocal teacher teach me. So I went for it. I turned on my mic and after every time I sang, she gave a little lecture to everyone on something I was doing wrong.

We moved up the scale and it got higher and higher. Finally, we were at the point where I knew my voice was going to crack, so when she moved up to the next note I said, "Oh, still me?" and she said "Yah go for it." (Hint not taken.) My voice cracked. My shoulder got tense. My neck was a mess. I was so embarrassed, but I got done and she used my failure to encourage everyone to relax and gave them great advice from my ridiculousness.

She moved up another note. She could see the panic on my face and she says to me "Let's bring it on home." I do the last little bit and I just gave up and sounded horrible. I decided to just get through this because it would be over soon.

 Sure enough, just after that, the class was concluded. I was so relieved the embarrassment was over. The woman hosting the event comes back on and thanks us all for being there. Then the instructor says to the host, "Feel free to post this on YouTube so everyone one can rewatch it."

Oh. No.

Well, now my awful singing will be on YouTube for all the world to see. All my litle mistakes and flaws out there in the cyber universe.

But you know what? I'm not dead. If anything I'm stronger. Maybe seeing someone who doesn't have the best voice sing with courage will inspire someone else who has a better voice. Maybe the corrections she gave after I sang was exactly what someone needed to make that little improvement. Maybe it's all not as bad as I feel like it is.

If there is something you love (maybe you aren't good at it) and have never taken a class, go find it online or on zoom right now. Take advantage of this pandemic and all the free classes. Now's your time! (Maybe just leave your camera and mic off. Hahaha.)

That Stupid Cavalcade

A Disneyland cavalcade changed my life.  (Click here to watch it.)

In 2005, after years of successfully dancing at Disneyland, I was unexpectedly not cast in any of the upcoming parades.  So I begged for a job.  Any job.  Disney came back and said that they could use me as a lead for a small cavalcade.   A lead is a person who walks along the parade.  They make sure the music runs correctly, the guests stay out of the street and ensures the performers are safe.  I wasn't going to be picky, I was just so thankful for any job. 

It was torture.

As I took my small steps down Main Street USA, pacing the parade, I would look up and watch the girls twirling in their skirts, jumping into the arms of their dance partners, and doing what they loved.  My ugly khakis and blue polo shirt made me look plump. The large bulky headset I wore had an antenna on both sides of my head making me look like some kind of bizarre insect. The headset was connected to a controller that hung on my belt making my pants sag a bit adding to the awkward.

But everyday I showed up and walked down that route, watching my dreams from the sidelines.

One day, the choreographer was doing a rehearsal backstage.  I was in charge of the DVD player. As the dancers rehearsed, they were struggling because a person was missing. The choreographer looked over and said, "Liz, jump in."  I looked at him and said "Oh, I'm not in this parade."  He looked back at me and said, "Don't make me call you Karen."  (My first name is Karen and like a loving family, it's not good when they use your whole name.)

He knew the dancer I was.  He knew that I could learn anything from watching.  He knew I had watched the routine a million times from the sidelines.  So, I took my headphones from my head and put them around my neck and jumped in.  As I danced along,  the headset controller on my belt kept knocking around.  So, mid dance, I ripped off the headset and controller, and launched them to the side.  I was so light, so free.  I danced with my whole soul.  This is what I was made for.

I image that you are thinking that I was then cast in that cavalcade.  I wasn't.

I just walked next to that cavalcade for months, trying to get into the parades that were in the rehearsal process, but I got no where.

That rehearsal taught me that I would never be satisfied walking alongside my dreams, so one day I auditioned for a role I had always dreamt of doing.  At the beginning of the audition they announced that women who are currently cast in the upcoming parade would not be allowed to audition.  A large pack of disappointed women streamed out of the room. (I couldn't believe how thankful I was for that stupid cavalcade.)  I auditioned for the role of a lifetime.  I got it.  I'm still doing it today.*

There are times in your life when you just have to sit on the sidelines and put in the work.  It's not always perfect.  You aren't always doing what you're made for, but there is something coming.  If you keep trying, if you keeping being willing to be rejected, if you keep putting in the work, you will end up in the perfect place.

*Cue me crying every time I read that because I can't believe how lucky I am.

Crying On The Way Home From LAX

I have cried three times leaving work at LAX, and I have only worked there for seven days.

The first cry was day one when I was overwhelmed, but the other two cries were very different.

Cry number two happened on day four. A woman came up to check in and was bravely holding her tears back with every ounce of courage she had. She was checking in her dad and grandfather. They both needed a lot of assistance. I could tell she didn't have the strength.

Finally, a moment of clarity came when she said, "I have one more question." and she stood there trying to find the words, but instead just stood there. Slowly she continued, "My brother died unexpectedly..." Her next words burst out along with her tears, "My father is carrying my brother's ashes, is that ok?" And she cried and cried.

I put my hand on her arm as she cried. I tried with everything inside of me not to cry with her, to stay professional. "It's fine. Let me help you."  I got a wheelchair for her grandfather; and noted that her dad was hard of hearing. I let her escort the ashes as far as she could. As I did these things she calmed. I'm not sure anyone had been taking care of her.

She composed herself, thanked me sincerely and walked away. I turned around and pulled the tears in my eyes back into my head and pulled all my courage together to help the next person.

Cry number three was yesterday. I was working at the self check in kiosks and an older woman walked through the door. She stopped suddenly and gasped as she covered her mouth. I thought maybe she had forgotten her license or suddenly remembered she was in the wrong airport, so I walked up with a smile, "Everything ok?" She stood with her hand on her mouth shaking her head quickly.

I took the smile off my face, "What's going on?"

She moved her hand to her heart and whispered, "My daughter has cancer and has just dropped me off. I wonder if I will see her again." And she pursed her lips together not wanting to cry. I put one hand under one of her arms and put my hand her back and helped her away from the door. She told me of her daughters chemo and the things she had gone through.  She told me how hard it was to watch her go down hill and I listened.  Finally, after she had calmed down, she pulled out a piece of paper and said, "I think my daughter already checked me in."

I said, "Let's take a look." Surprising myself, my voice cracked as I said it. The woman saw my kindness and said, "What is your name?" and I said, "Liz."  She started crying. "That is my granddaughter's name. I think that is a good sign."

I'm glad that even my name can help someone feel a little stronger.  One thing that I never expected with this job was being a source of comfort.  I was sure people would disrespectfully rushed by.  I expected people to yell at me when I couldn't let them on the flight, but I never expected people to cry; to need me to more than just to check them in.

I sometimes wonder if I will get callused to it.  I sure hope not.

The dark or the light?

There is a dark spot and a light spot in every situation.

Today I find myself sitting calmly at a coffee shop, sipping a chai latte and slowly eating a cheese roll.  And it is wonderful.

This is happening because baseball season ended a couple days ago and I will no longer have to work 14 hour days for a week a time.  I get to go to cross country meets and see friends.  I get to work on my house and build a new apartment.  (Yes, you heard me. I'm building myself an apartment with my own two hands. More to come.)

Now that all sounds really wonderful, but that's because that's how I choose to look at it.

It could be this instead:

Today I find myself sitting at a coffee shop, drinking a chai wondering where my life is going.  Baseball season has ended and I don't get to see my work friends for another six months and the paychecks will be missing.  The lack of community and money brings stress that sits in the back of my head and I wonder, "What am I going to do with my life?"

Both of these are true, but which one do I choose to focus on? The first one of course because I'm Liz Hetzel, it's what I do.  But honestly, it's harder somedays than others. Sometimes I just need to sit in the stress and say "WHAT IS HAPPENING?!"  But other times, I just need to remember that there is light and dark in every situation.  I choose the light.

What's Love Got To Do With It?

The song "What's Love Got To Do With It" never made sense to me. I always thought the Beatles knew what they were talking about when they sang "All You Need Is Love."

I was wrong.

I recently went through a break up that was full of love. We both love each other, we both wanted to make it work, but ultimately our futures weren't lining up and we had to make the logical decision to end it.

The day we broke up I went on a hike. Exercise always makes me feel better. I mindlessly chose a hike and headed out bravely.  Not far in I came across this big gorgeous open field of grass where I had imagined we would get married. A little piece of me broke.

I sat down on the ground and cried hoping to collect that little part of me that broke, but alas nothing was going to fix the shattered dreams.  So, I got up off the ground, leaving that little broken piece behind, and hiked on.

This has been the repeated pattern ever since we broke up. There are so many shattered dreams that I see everywhere. The ring we had picked out sitting alone in the cupboard. The tiny house we had worked on together that we would never live in. The National Parks checklist that would never be complete.

With every little piece of me that breaks, I have to continue on. I logically know that as time goes by I will slowly heal. But today it hurts and that's okay.

There are times when you just have to get through it.  You have to let little parts of you break away so that they can be filled with other things.

The night after our break up, I went to my folks house and my dad had set up his telescope. It was a warm summer night. We looked at Saturn and Jupiter and it was fantastic. He just let me be sad and weepy. He let me just be me. A little part of me was filled.

One night I had to go to work and I knew I would have to hear my ex's voice over the walkie talkie.  I told a fellow co-worker that it was going to be awful hearing his voice. When he came on the walkie talkie, she locked eyes with me made fists and whispered "You got this." I honestly would have lost it, but she kept me strong.

It takes a village.  Making it through life can be hard, but people around you will save you.

That big gorgeous open field.