Chick Chat with Karen Linamen

For years I thought, what's the big deal with diet and exercise? I always figured if I got unhappy enough with my body, I could always hire someone to fix it, right? Kinda like when you’re living in a house and the floor starts to sag and you just call in a handyman. And if the house is really falling apart and a handyman isn’t gonna to do the job, you go to the next level and call a tradesman like a plumber or something. And if the job ends up being too big for a tradesman, you call in a general contractor. Simple, right?

So a couple months ago I had a consultation with a plastic surgeon. He declined the job and referred me to an architect and said, what with the amount of remodeling I’d need and all, I might have to look into a rezoning permit as well.

I didn’t think that was a good sign.

Besides, that sounded like a lot of surgery. Okay, I admit, at first I wondered if you COULD have too much plastic surgery, but then I met a woman who had a face lift, tummy lift and butt lift and now she’s two feet off the ground.

I spent Saturday morning in Manitou Springs, Colorado at the Annual Emma Crawford Coffin Race where I joined several thousand people to watch an hour of white-knuckle competitive racing featuring three dozen homemade coffins on wheels.

I learned a lot while I was there.

For instance, I learned that the real Emma Crawford lived in Manitou until her untimely death in 1890 and that--when her dying request was to be buried at the top of Red Mountain--her fiance and eleven other men worked in shifts to carry her remains 7200 feet to the summit. After nearly forty years of rain and erosion, the granite at the top of the peak gave way and Emma's bones washed down the side of the mountain. She's buried now in Manitou. No wonder coffins on wheels are the theme of an event honoring a woman who traveled as much after death as she did.

But that's not all I learned.

When one of the coffin racing teams consisted of 12 men dressed like Elvis, I was informed that a single man dressed like The King is called an "Elvis" but more than one are referred to as "Elvii." This is because "Elvii" has been officially designated as the plural form of the word Elvis.

I don't know what's scarier: The fact that I've lived 47 years without this crucial bit of information, or the fact that there's even a need to come up with a plural form of the word Elvis.

I just returned from Amarillo, Texas where I spoke at the Civic Center to 298 women at a fabulous event hosted by the Paramount Baptist Church. Nicki Mason, Kristy Hollis, Kathy Yates and others put on one elegant shindig if I've ever seen one! I'm delighted to have made so many new friends!

Plus, that morning on my flight into Amarillo I found myself sitting next to Chris Albracht, program director of KGNC AM 710. We chatted up a storm, then Nicki and I got to hear Chris on the air the following morning as he broadcast well wishes for our travels. How cool is that?  Another friend to add to the 298 I made on this trip.

I was thinking that put the "new friend count" at 299, but I just remembered Maria. Maria was working at the Civic Center the night of the event, making sure everyone at the dinner felt welcomed with hot coffee and a warm smile. We crossed paths a few times. The first was in the ladies' room. I'd forgotten to lock the stall door, which she opened. An intimate way to meet a new acquaintance, to be sure, but it does get you laughing together.

And maybe praying together, too. After I spoke and the evening was drawing to a close, Maria told me she'd love a few miracles for her family. We prayed together then, asking God to open the door for a new-found closeness among her loved ones.

I'm believing God'll answer those prayers. After all, He's a God of restoration and miracles. Who knows what doors he'll open for Maria? And for you? And for me, too?

I just never thought the door to a bathroom stall would be one of them.