I landed in Casper, Wyoming on Friday and did a little volunteer work. It was just pushing this woman named Julie up the jet bridge in a wheelchair, but I’m gonna count it. She was struggling to get into the chair, CPR (I love throwing around airport codes) was understaffed, and all the people on my plane were so focused on entering “the cowboy state” that they just shuffled on by, so I offered to push her. Plus she told me her husband left her. Not entirely, but he was one of the passengers who took off up the jet bridge in search of baggage claim and a better life. Her husband must be choosey with when he offers help because he was actually my seatmate on the flight and took the time to explain turbulence to me. So I know he likes to be helpful!
I think it’s something everyone should do (push a wheelchair specifically at the airport)! In order to move one, you have to clasp the break bar (located under the handlebar) to unlock the wheels, and whenever you hit a bump as you push up the jet bridge, you should use your foot to push down on the lower bar for leverage, otherwise Julie will fly out of the wheelchair. My Julie caught herself before ejection and said, “You’re so kind to help; thank you again! I’m sorry it’s so hard to push this thing!” But not all of you are gonna have my Julie. Her husband was at the terminal gate waiting for us and I waved goodbye to them as they told me to enjoy my stay!
I really think the key to life is experiencing as much as you can outside of your natural proclivities or interests or your job. When you do this, you discover another person’s experience that you [possibly] prejudged without knowing. This seems so simple but the smallest shift from your center breeds sensitivity and a feeling of fellowship. Now I know the skill it takes to keep people in those wheelchairs. So get out there! Push a wheelchair! Shoot a gun! Wait some tables! The gun thing is more of a joke, however, after I shot a gun I did feel more understanding of that little girl in True Grit standing in the river with a shotgun, reeeeally not rising to the occasion.
Next I went to the rental car counter and was pleased to be given a Nissan… some sort of Nissan. I liked the car but I swear if my life were on the line in some sort of strange game show where I had to pull up to the show’s host (probably Seacrest) at a stoplight and answer what make, model or color my rental car is, I would lose every time. The young guy at the rental car counter told me there was a crack in my windshield but if it grows larger it’s NOT on me. That’s why I chose Thrifty: zero entrapment.
I made it to the hotel to change out of my sweatpants (something I’m aiming to do more often) and slap on some makeup so I wouldn’t have to field questions about my mental health. Ten minutes before showtime I arrived at the venue and was pleasantly surprised to see a great group of people sitting on the ground floor of the Rialto Theater. I really didn’t know what or how many folks to expect because I think my reported ticket counts for the whole weekend were literally 7. The theater is beautifully refurbished.
photo by Quinn Johnston
I sat in the empty balcony to watch my opening acts (Jared Chandler and Helen Driesen), sipped a strawberry peach La Croix and wrote my set list. I’m happy to report the Friday show was SO fun. The crowd was on board for silliness from the jump. They were sharp and kept pace with me the whole hour I was onstage. Saturday was a different, very drunk story. Them drunk, not me drunk. They specifically shouted that it was Old Fashioneds. That’s a weird drink to make plural.
But the real highlight of Saturday was the powwow at Casper College hosted by the Indigenous Student Alliance. Casper resident Marabeth, who came to my show Friday, suggested it to me, so I invited my feature act Helen to join. It was beautiful outside, seventy-five degrees and sunny with some fluffy clouds stamped in the sky above the mountains. The indigenous voices singing over the drum circle made me tear up. I’m ovulating but I think it’s more so that I found it very powerful.
I loved seeing indigenous people of all ages expressing themselves in bespoke regalia; gorgeous feathers, bright, beaded medallions and the sound of the bells sewn into clothing. The powwow emcee invited us all to join the friendship dance, so Helen, Marabeth and I entered the circle and it felt comforting to hold hands with all of the strangers that came to share in community and pay respect to, or enjoy the native tradition. The emcee said how happy it made them to see us dance. I’m grateful the native folks are so welcoming of outsiders because after that powwow, I am healed and it’s over for you hoes!
I will keep trying to do better about telling you of my road times. I have a new half hour called “The Landlord Special” that is coming out July 2, 2025 on Veeps. It will be there for one month and then I’ll put it on my YouTube channel.
Thanks for coming along! Perhaps I’ll see you in Charleston, Fort Wayne, South Bend or Chicago in the next month. I hope so!
Love,
Beth
p.s. do you like seeing photos with the posts?
sigh...my dad grew up on a ranch in Wyoming. I can't say enough about that state...and I've already said too much. Beth, yer the best.
Coming to see you in Spokane