Here are some quotations from episode 1:
“We’re gonna get through this.” (This is what the staff manager has to keep saying to the servers, as they’re so much busier than they used to be. She says that by the end of the shift on Thursday everyone’s tired out, but they still have two nights to go, the busiest. I’m sure everyone’s making a ton of money on tips, but they’re also exhausted.)
“Now I’m this awkward celebrity.” (Vivian on her new status; she says that she doesn’t like talking to people.)
“I’ve become a distraction in the kitchen.” (Vivian on the problems of diners wanting to talk to her, get a picture with her, get her autograph. So now she has to kind of hide out in the back during dinner service so she can do her work, actually making the food people are paying for, and she still gets dragged out into the dining room. There’s a great little segment, only about 20 seconds long, of her sitting back in the office having a small meltdown about all the attention, about how weird it is to have all these people looking at her, and then . . . the very next segment shows her going to New York to be on the Today show. I’m sure the juxtaposition isn’t accidental. See the show here, with the telling little incident at 19:05.)
If you go onto YouTube and type in “Vivian Howard,” you’ll find tons of clips of her appearances in various venues. She obviously loves the camera, and the camera loves her. But every little 10-minute-or-less clip represents hours, if not days (in the case of the Today show) of her time. And the twins are growing up, and getting a timeout at gymnastics classes for misbehavior, and Ben is having to fill in as the chef at “The Boiler Room,” their second restaurant, which, as Vivian points out, is “not what he signed up for.” So, maybe she should start saying “no”? It’s so tempting to think that the whole enterprise depends on you, but really–the Today show can survive without her just fine.
On a much smaller scale, I’m find in my own life that it’s very tempting to say yes to flattering requests. For the community chorale I sing in, I do the following:
1. Write a post every week during concert season about the music we’ve singing, spending a couple of hours at least per post. I let myself get totally carried away on these, sometimes going far afield (on the internet) to track down some arcane fact. One Christmas we were singing “I Saw Three Ships,” and I spent an unbelievable amount of time going down rabbit trails to find out what on earth that carol means, as Bethlehem is a land-locked town and there are no ships mentioned in the Christmas story. I even found an image of the medieval book that had the original song in it. (See the post here–scroll down to the last entry.)
2. Plan and host the annual picnic, usually at our house, for 75-80 people. I make a lot of the food, order some of it pre-made, and do all the setup to feed that many people inside the house and out in the back yard. (Well, my husband Jim actually does the outside setup, and we usually get a couple of guys who come early to help.)
3. Plan and prepare for the retreat breakfasts that go with the once-per-concert special rehearsals that we have on Saturday mornings. I have lots of help with these, notably from the woman who brings the tableware, the coffee, and the five dozen hard-boiled eggs, but I still have the ultimate responsibility resting on my shoulders.
4. Plan and prepare for the Friday-night receptions after each concert. Again, I make a lot of the food but also have people sign up to bring things, and I have 3-4 non-Chorale helpers. It’s up to me to make it all happen, though. I always miscalculate how much time it’s going to take to put the tablecloths on the tables and do the decorations, but there have always been good Samaritans who show up and give me a hand. One of these days, though . . .
5. Put on the annual business meeting dinner. Last year I wimped out and bought lasagna from Costco, but even so I made salad, salad dressings, croutons, and desserts. And I should have made breadsticks.
People are very, very complimentary and grateful about what I do. I enjoy it tremendously, it’s all stuff I’ve volunteered to do, and I have no desire to drop anything. But recently I was asked if I would cater the dinner for “Showcase,” which is an annual talent show put on by Chorale members and which has in the past included a potluck dinner. The woman in charge of that event told me that the Board was wondering if I’d do this and that they’d pay me. (What she really meant was that they’d reimburse me, which is a very different thing.) Well, wasn’t that nice? My cooking was being discussed in the Board meeting! It was very tempting to say “yes.” But I didn’t. For once I stopped and thought before answering, and I told her that I just didn’t feel that I could do it. This is a big to-do, with well over 100 people. I just don’t need to take that on. And you know what? They’re going to have it catered by someone else, probably Chipotle. I can just go and enjoy the evening. I’m not indispensable.
Always a balance. I probably don’t have to worry any time soon about the burdens of fame, but even in my small corner I have to make good choices about what I agree to do. And I have to realize that the world won’t end if I say no. What about you? Does your commitment list need to be pruned?