The STUFF Sisters - Attractions

In Constant Search of Authenticity & A Meal I Will Never Forget

I like my world with a bit of grit. If I spend more than a couple hours in a location that is sterile, homogenized or commercialized I start to get depressed. I begin to pace like a caged animal.

I like my world with a bit of grit. If I spend more than a couple hours in a location that is sterile, homogenized or commercialized I start to get depressed. I begin to pace like a caged animal. I get short and snappy with others. I start to worry that the world is in serious trouble. And, I have to stifle my urge to scream.

I don’t understand the appeal of chain stores, themed restaurants or branded theme parks. I went on a cruise once and seriously considered jumping ship more than once. I just wanted to feel the water. Looking at it from five stories up was pure torture. I was desperate to feel the cold water. To taste the salt. To be pulled by the waves.

I have a burning desire to travel before the cultures of the world are “walmarted” and “targeted” to death.

What will the world look like if all the small authentic businesses and communities disappear? You can’t rebuild, recreate or paint on a patina that will ever replace an original. It falls flat.

When I find authentic locales. I get excited. I don’t want to own something or eat something that is one of the millions manufactured. I want to own a one-in-a-million piece of art or eat a meal that can’t be found anywhere else.

I crave authenticity.

Which is why I will never forget the first time I ate at Le Maire’s in Sedalia, Missouri.

It wasn’t the original location, but it was original in every other way.

The fried clams were made as a starter just for us.

The place was spotless. We did share the place with 5 other tables. But, I didn’t take photos of the people because I “outed” myself as a crazy out-of-towner with my photo taking and it seemed rude.

The catfish dinner is the menu “must have”. My daughter insisted on ordering the adult sized platter and put away all six pieces of fish. Please note there is no oily residue on the plate.

The painted walls and murals created a festive Cajun mood.

There is a little grotto at the entrance honoring the founders, Joe and Frenchie Le Maire.

My daughter recommends the Gumball Coaster near the checkout counter for entertainment while you wait for your fresh fried catfish.

My Mother suggested the stop. She had known about it for many years. I threatened to never speak to her again for keeping it a secret this long, but my anger slipped away during the fried clam starter. The happiness I felt at discovering this truly authentic eatery made me giddy.

Most Important Job

There are work days that are so cut up – with meetings, events, and activities – that at the end of the day I look back in wonder. Wonder at what actually got done and what was left to be tackled later. Yesterday was one of those days for me and my rich, full life. And the most important job I had yesterday was in a rainforest.

Yesterday was one of those days for me and my rich, full life.

Over an hour clearing my e-mail accounts while the sun tried to rise. A meeting with an artist who is fearlessly taking his work to the “big time” at a New York trade show started my day at STUFF. An hour at my desk on details that can overwhelm if left too long in one spot. A trip to a local charity for check signing and a quick meeting. A powwow with another charity about fundraising at their annual luncheon. Another hour at my desk and an hour on the floor with customers. Two hours at a networking and food-tasting event. A ride home on the urban interstate while the sun sets, with a sister who challenges me and is a creative force to be reckoned with.

However, the most important job I had yesterday was in a rainforest. During the heat of noon time. Deep in the heart of midtown with a tour director that knew so much it was overwhelming, as was the crowd. Traveling up the Amazon with a small voice as your guide is the way to go. A third grader who knew not only about the “animal” she made for the project but who knew about the 40 others. I did not travel alone and was smart enough to know this was a trip the whole family would enjoy.

Like most nature vacations, this one was suited to your traveling pleasures. If you like to learn more data and see graphs, charts, reports and videos, she had that on hand. If viewing art that replicates the local flora and fauna turns you on, she had that too. If poetry and the spoken word are your thing, she provided that as well.

My son, who will be 17 next week, attended the same school as my niece, who led me up her Amazon yesterday. Her rainforest adventure immersed her – and her mother! – in the wonders of the piranha, while my family had absorbed all there was to know about leafcutter ants eight years ago. Ants that still hang in our play room at home.

Yesterday I was a rainforest visitor. I was tagged as a traveler before my trip began, a name tag I didn’t keep but should have worn all day and to every meeting. A personal reminder that the most important job I have is listening carefully and absorbing all the wonders while traveling in the deepest, darkest, and most formidable places…which can be my desk, a conference room, or the interior of my own mind.

p.s. The following photos are a reminder that the scariest creatures in the rainforest are the humans….

rainforest 11 — … my sister, mom and husband …

rainforest 7 — … my niece and my friend …

Forever

One of the things I do that I love is volunteer at The Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art. Tonight, my volunteer job had me asking people who were coming to see the new exhibit how long they had been members of the Friends of Art.

One of the things I do that I love is volunteer at The Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art. I have vivid memories of the docents that brought paintings into our classroom in 5th grade at Bryant Elementary. My mind sees – and my nose still remembers – the smell of the school bus during our trips to The Nelson from way out in Waldo when we came “down” to see art with our junior high school art teacher.

Tonight, my volunteer job had me asking people who were coming to see the new exhibit, “Modern Mexico”, how long they had been members of the Friends of Art. I loved seeing the answers on their faces before their mouths issued a word. “I joined tonight,” she said with sparkling eyes. “Forever,” said the older gentleman, “I really don’t know. I was a member for a long time, and then I got sick, and now I am a member again.”

Their prize for answering me was that I christened them with a sticker that shared with the world their membership years. I then told them all what their membership does for the museum by keeping it free for the public and open year round. It helps bring art to the schools and bring the schools to the art. Heck, it even helps make free member events like tonight free.

Recently, a staff member at The Nelson told me my number. My years of membership at my museum stunned me a bit. I couldn’t possibly be as old as that number was big! So, tonight I chose two stickers for myself as I was leaving the museum. One is where I am, and one is where I am headed.

I think a quarter of a century sounds fantastic and the number twenty-five seems youthful. Just like me!

p.s. “Frida Kahlo, Diego Rivera and Masterpieces of Modern Mexico” will be at The Nelson-Atkins until August 18, 2013. Don’t miss it. The colors alone will blown you away. Find out more here.

Embracing Simplicity

Parades are funny things. Not just because of clowns and puppets and dogs. Not because of men in tutus and babies in top hats. Parades are funny because they bring out the best in America.

Parades are funny things. Not just because of clowns and puppets and dogs. Not because of men in tutus and babies in top hats.

Parades are funny because they bring out the best in America. The slowing down of time, the sitting still and watching the world go by, the embracing of simplicity.

Last month’s Brookside St. Pat’s parade was the 11th time we have marched as a unit for STUFF. Every year we start thinking about it the minute the calendar clicks over to the new year. And every year we don’t start working on it until March starts. Lots of time in there between the thinking and the working, which is not like us.

We’ve learned to slow down and not rush into decisions. We’ve learned to let the magic of an idea sink in and then rise to the surface. This year we simplified and let the people who walk with us – the customers, the dogs, the children – tell our story.

We are about people, not product. We are about hand-crafting, not production. For one short parade route a year, we are about the color green and candy and laughter and shouting and smiling.

It’s that simple.

Living With History

I love driving. I like to be in control. I enjoy it. Last week I took a road trip with my husband and son during the younger one’s spring break. Our small family truly loves road trips.