Confessions at Chick-fil-A

Cathy: "Can't marry." ^

Chick-fil-A is in the news both locally and nationally. Nationally, CEO Dan Cathy has reaffirmed his strong opposition to same-sex marriage, reiterating his "Christian" and "Godly" views. But more importantly, a new Chick-fil-A restaurant opened in northern Lakeland, Florida. And if one can make it here, one can make it anywhere! ...or something.

The Lakeland Chick-fil-A countdown was epic. That famous cow showed up in front of the restaurant under construction weeks before the opening, mooing about how soon it would open. Each day, the sign was replaced and each day came 24 hours closer to the grand opening. Lakeland hadn't seen so much excitement since one week earlier, when a new Panda Express opened across the street. The addition of Chick-fil-A would round out Highway 98 as the most American stretch of highway in the nation - housing every reputable chain restaurant, box store and vacant strip mall within a one-mile strip. With the occasional man in an Uncle Sam hat biking with a buggy of free bibles, the image belongs on the back of a coin.

Hens in Africa: Jambo!

Hello.

When our Hens on Ice troop traveled to South Africa to bring the country its first ever Hens on Ice show, none of us in the cast or crew had been to South Africa (except the weird girl from New York who lives in England but has family in South Africa and Dutch roots, she doesn't count). We were all very excited to venture to this foreign land.

None of us pretended we knew much about South Africa. Sadly in most of our educations, African histories are seldom taught, aside from when European men colonized/raped and pillaged the continent when world exploration and pillaging were all the rage. But a few of us did a little research to help us be knowledgable. I learned that Johannesburg is the largest city in the world that is not on a major body of water or river. This fact never came in handy, other than that I knew not to look for a beach. Our friend, Kim, immediately began using "Jambo" as her greeting. I was impressed she learned a useful word in Afrikans, South Africa's other official language besides English. In spite of her pasty skin and red hair, Kim was one step more African than the rest of us.

Hens in Africa: A Search for Roots

I should've flown coach.

Hello, or should I say "Jambo?" That is Swahili for hello, but I never heard anyone from South Africa say it. Other African people apparently do.

The Cackling Hen is back after a wild goose chase to find my roots in between Hens on Ice shows. I flew nearly two days to South Africa, the part of Africa furthest from my home (Sometimes a hen needs some space from mother goose, and lots of it). And before rumors start swirling, I flew coach on Delta. Hens can't really fly, and I had to save my wings for the shows. It would be the first time African children, parents and crazed skating fans would see a hen on ice.

Flying to Mars

The Cackling Hen is flying to Africa!

Those are words that will never feel natural flying out of my beak unless I move to Africa. It catches everyone off guard the first time, including myself. It continues to throw off the forgetful and friends who don't listen the second, third and fourth times they hear it.

Over the past few weeks, I've told friends and family I would not see them for about a month, as Hens on Ice will be having shows in South Africa for the first time in history, and the company keeps throwing me feed to skate in the shows. Everyone's immediate question is, "Where are you going?" And there is no time to prepare them for my response: "South Africa." Once that last "a" is pronounced, their eyes bulge and mouths open as if I'd said, "Mars."

Where's the arena?

A Mini Henplaint

In today's digital age, we make many purchases online. After a few times, I've become accustomed to the same process for buying flights, text books and my support for the less corrupt politician. A key part of forking my money over online is entering that "billing information," including my home address.

It is convenient in today's hustle (and usual bustle) to just type quickly, hit the "tab" key, and continue typing in the next box. On fancy sites, it will even automatically move me over to that next box - no "tab" necessary! Whew.

A Day in the Office

What is this crap?

When I returned home for a break from Hens on Ice, I had lofty but seemingly reasonable goals and tasks for my free time. I would only work two days a week part time, so I'd have plenty of time to tackle those boxes in the garage, finish that Lady Gaga-inspired painting and write the next great American novel. But now after over a month at home, the boxes have a year layer of dust, the painting canvas has been dry since 2011 and that novel has a long way to go. Now is the time to publicly address my problem and see where I've gone wrong so that book hits the shelves and that painting hits my wall. The boxes can wait.

It's always easier to point the finger at others and inanimate objects than fully accepting blame and responsibility. So here starts my finger pointing to why I am always doing something but never finishing anything.

Life as a Robbie Part III

Daily life as a Robbie is my early 20s is mostly smooth sailing now that I fully accept that I can go by Robbie to everyone I meet, but my legal birth name is Robert. Just because my name is always Robert on airline tickets, college degrees and my driver's license does not make me any less of a Robbie. Now those years of therapy just seem silly.

That's me on the left.

But even as a 26 year old (yes, I said early 20s...) I still run into the unexpected kerfuffle in the name department. Not too surprisingly, my recent name fiasco involved United Airlines. I was about to make a joke involving their "friendly skies" tagline, but evidently they stopped using that slogan in 1996. I don't know what's more staggering - the fact that I stopped paying attention to United's marketing after age 11, or the fact that I paid attention to United's marketing as a child younger than 11.

Home with a Bieber Fever

Much of the world has caught a terrible disease - Bieber Fever. Thankfully my vaccination is still holding strong. Here's why he and his disease bother me:

Who's the 3rd clown?

1. Bieber's new song, "Boyfriend." There's no escaping hearing new Bieber songs, and I was even slightly curious. I thought maybe he's growing as an artist and a boy. While he may have grown a few inches, his only growth as an "artist" is sounding identical to Justin Timberlake when he went solo. I even had to question if Timberlake was featured in the song. He's not - just some blatant copycat-ing. Bieber, just because you share the same first name doesn't mean you're Justin Timberlake. Talk to me when you're over 18. (Wait, he's now 18? Okay, don't talk to me.) He even was brazen enough to attempt that Timberlake signature falsetto. On the plus size, his voice finally changed (or they gave a heavy dose of auto tune), but now there is nothing distinct about his voice or the song. If he hadn't already infected us with Bieber Fever, it wouldn't stand out enough to do anything but be a one hit wonder. Too bad, our medical bills have all skyrocketed.

Things Only Britney Can Get Away With...

Through the chart-toppers and head shaving, Britney Spears is a pop icon and household name. Like all celebrities, she has her many critics. But she is the enduring Princess of Pop through it all, in spite of not being the best singer, the best dancer, nor the best blonde. She had the "X-Factor" before it was a show, and there's something about that sultry gaze she's given us since "..Baby One More Time" that's hypnotized us to crave hit after hit. Sure, Britney doesn't have the same pipes as Christina, and her videos don't have the Gaga freak look to get the hits, but she established herself as Britney Spears: the diva who can get away with what no other diva can.

New Adventures of Old Hens in Portugal

Hens on Ice took the Iberian Peninsula by storm after months of cold and grey climates. The sun was out and we spread out wings to tan our white feathers. We first fluttered through five Spanish cities before crossing the border and visiting Lisbon, Portugal. I will admit I was ignorant to much about Portugal other than it being Spain's thin neighbor to the west. And since Portugal doesn't pop up too often in US news outlets, the last I'd heard about Portugal was from The New Adventures of Old Christine: