The working name of my writings is Theory of Dakotability. I have to give credit where is credit is
due. My dear friend Mary Garry introduced it to me years ago, and like any good
artist, I have borrowed it ever since. It is the truest of theories with which
I have experienced. Simply, when the rest of the world is playing Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon Separation,
in the Dakotas, it boils down to One
Degree of Everyone. It usually
begins like this, “I know someone from South Dakota.” I follow with, “Who?” We
are a state of family names. Especially
since I was an athlete, I know all the players and names. Are you a Daily or Allard - Jefferson/Elk Point. Webers are from Bridgewater.
Glanzers are Armor or Freeman natives, Kings are Lyman County and
Knights are Beresford all day long. By the way, I am the same girl that can
name the mascot if you give me the South Dakota school.
I could probably dedicate a chapter of this work to each
time I have experienced this theory, but I want this to be a short book of
musings and not an encyclopedia of experiences. Let’s just say that the Theory of Dakotability has been proved
true as I have traveled the world.
Ambergris Caye, Belize
·
A college friend and her daughters booked a room
next to my house on the beach. As I ran by with a group of my favorite
students, I heard, “Kim is that you?”
·
Someone saying, “Aren’t you Kim Bartling?” as I
walked out of an ice cream parlor with an entourage of children. This person
was wearing a SDSU Jackrabbit t-shirt.
·
“Hey
Bartling!” from 2 former students as they climbed on a boat to leave the island
as I was walking on the beach to work.
·
A tap on the shoulder by a young woman behind me
in line at the famous Thursday Chicken Drop line followed by, “I think you
taught me junior English.” This former
student just happened to be vacationing with my father’s oncology nurse, so it
was a double wammy.
New York City - more times than I can recall, but here are a
couple of my favorites…
·
After the production of Cabaret with Alan Cumming, I waited by the stage door. I loved AC, so I waited. Also at the stage door was a lovely group of
young college students on Spring Break from Boston. They were discussing as to whom was going to
take pictures if – in fact – Mr. Cumming would pose. I finally said, “Ladies,
give me your cameras, and I will take the pictures with all of your cameras.”
They looked at me with a combination of hope and fear. It was a great solution,
but they were in NYC and had been warned that everyone was to be feared. I finally said in their obvious hesitation,
“I am from South Dakota. I am not going to steal your cameras.” To which one girl said, “I am from Sioux
City, Iowa.”
I
retorted, “I am from Sioux Falls. What high school did you go to?”
·
Mike Capps. After the Broadway production of Doubt with Cherry Jones and Bryan
O’Brynn, I had questions for Ms. Jones. It was a extraordinary cold evening and
despite the success of the production, the weather kept fans at bay – with the
exception of me and a gorgeous blonde that oozed of class and money. Frankly, she just didn’t look like the type
who would stand by a stage door and wait for anyone. We struck up an immediate conversation. She
lived in the Upper West Side, worked in marketing, had three beautiful,
successful daughters. She was married to her second husband, whom she met over
a crime scene in Texas as each of them was covering it for separate media
houses. It was a fun story.
Once the two of us had our time with the
cast and asked out questions, we walked one another down the street – me to the
subway and her to called car. I said, “I am excited to get home at a decent
hour as I can still catch the last innings of some spring training baseball
games.” She simply responded, “Oh, you and my husband would get along
great. He is a baseball announcer during
the actual season.” I stopped, processed and said, “Is your husband Mike
Capps?” Seriously? “How do you know my husband?” I assured her
that it was all legit and that my brain just did the math for me. They were from Texas, husband left the city after
9/11, he worked for CBS sports and announced baseball. I know a guy named Mike Capps who used to be
the announcer for the Sioux Falls Canaries that met all of those criteria.
“Mike, how about you and I road trip to
Fargo this weekend to announce a Redhawks – Canaries game and make fun of all
the ‘I give up’ outfits the local women wear?”
“Holy shit, Bartling, how did you get ahold
of my wife’s phone?”
It is the Theory of Dakotability baby!
It has happened to me outside the Vatican, a train station in Germany, spring training in
Mesa, the Sundance Film Festival, and at
a minor league baseball stadium in New Jersey. Even my sister who lives in
Baltimore has had an episode happen on my behalf. A man stopped her outside her
house because she had South Dakota plates. Turns out, that his wife was my
stage manager when I directed Steel
Magnolias at the Sioux Empire Community Theatre in 2008. Yep…..Theory of
Dakotablity.
2 comments:
I am not even from South Dakota and I this happens to me. LOVE YOU!!!
:)
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