The Night I Fired Norma & Simone

Just like any other sane person in this world, I have a couple personalities. I've got Norma, my self-righteous, perfect-loving, propriety-proper princess and Simone, spot-light loving, self absorbing, sassy mistress. Those two play off of each other like crackers and cheese. Simone smolders, Norma cracks.

Both were born out of my deepest insecurities. I could go into this whole detailed adult psychoanalytic tale of how they were conceived and delivered, but I won't because like any other sane person in this world, I want you to believe that I am sane.

When all is said and done, it breaks down like this: Simone is a wild child and Norma is her disapproving mother.

When I have to do any sort of performing whatsoever, Norma and Simone do battle like you would not believe--unless of course your personalities do battle right before you perform as well. (Of course.) Simone wants to push the limits while Norma runs around pulling her away. Push, pull. Push, pull. Meanwhile, I am taffy.

Take for instance the video I posted the other day of Mindy Gledhill and me riding about downtown Provo on a motorized couch. The person representing me in that video was totally and completely Simone. Simone has that over-the-circus-top excita-voice, matches her pink shoes with her pink dress and sings (loudly, and with blazing nostrils) over Mindy Gledhill's "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot." Sure, laugh at Simone (she wants you to).

But right before I posted that video to my blog, Norma came around the corner and said,

"Look, you can't post that video. Simone was sick. People out there will be disgusted."

(Norma is always worried about "the people out there.")

(She hated the day I started blogging.)

So I stepped in as referee and said, "This isn't about Simone, it's about fundraising for the cultural arts for downtown Provo." And we (Chup and me, that is) posted it for the wide spread consumption.

(Norma hates that it has over twelve thousand views . . . but not Simone!)

The next night I was set to do a little hosting with my sister Stephanie in front of five hundred people at Mindy's concert. As I waited to go out on stage, Norma and Simone were at each other's throats.

Simone,

"Let's go BIG! Big! Like Judy Garland big! Like Nathan Lane big!"

And Norma was like,

"Simone, we have a reputation to cherish! Let's remember decorum. You don't know who is out there."

"I hate you Norma."

"I dislike you Simone."

"You smell like pious Norma."

"You smell like yourself Simone."

Back and forth, back and forth until I was shaking my head like I had swimmer's ear.

Finally I had enough. I didn't care for either of them at that point. In fact, I started to wonder why I had ever cared for either of them. Simone often embarrassed me (it's true), and Norma made me tired (never-ending house cleaning!) Who was I scared of being anyway?

So I fired both of them. Sent them both packing. And went out on stage as myself.

And just in case either of them are reading this right now I want to say: hey girls, thanks for the memories.





Justin Hackworth's photos of our pre-stage moments:

I should ask my sister which of her personalities told her to wear the fists.



Links:
Justin Hackworth
Mindy Gledhill