Celebrities who’ve met ME! Hello, Dale Chumbley

Dale Chumbley, Realtor® in Clark County, Washington and winner of Pearl of Carol contest and Ooligan Press book.
He can say, he knew me when…

Many moons ago, when we were both cute young things, Dale and I worked together at a media company, a behemoth news giant in all of Southwest Washington. I thought I was important and gave him orders. He thought I knew what I was doing and followed them exactly. To accommodate my many pick-up and delivery demands, he tootled around the county in a little white car. Occasionally, he took a break from my sweet requests and drove the boss’ Jaguar, but that was only for very specific and important company business: a swish through the car wash.

At the time, enamored by his smile, I scoured my then fading memory banks to decipher why—when I gazed into his bright blue eyes they made me warm and fuzzy, made me want to give him a big sister squeeze, but they also left me hungry. For food. Peanut butter and jelly to be exact.

The mystery erupted in startling fashion—Sunny Jim bounced out of obscurity. He smiled from his position as the heavily promoted advertising icon of a now defunct, Seattle peanut butter empire that made its first entrance at Pike Place Market.

My dad grew up on that stuff. It was pumping through my veins when I was born. Until he entered kindergarten that is ALL my real-little-brother ate, and I’m only slightly exaggerating.

[Sunny Jim Photo Credit. Thanks, Molly!]

Dale wasn’t interested in spreading peanut butter stories through our department and tried to convince me he fell far short of wholesome, in fact, he claimed to have been a goth teen.

He swore he left for high-school looking like a regular guy, changed clothes along the way, and showed up looking more like this… –>
[Photo provided by Dale Chumbley].

Ever since that revelation, I have avoided Dale’s mum, Tracy Chumbley also a Realtor®. I’m such a tattle-tale, I feared I would disclose Dale’s sordid past and ruin her pristine image of such a fine-upstanding son, because surely she was as worried as the rest of us about that other son, Darin, who did not delight in college but ran away to sing and dance in New York. It turned out okay, Darin danced his way into the heart of a beautiful girl and they now live within a block of Times Square, which offers plenty of fodder for his photography career.

“Hey Tracy, maybe now that I’m a mom, you can give me some ADVICE: my kid has a wild streak. Blond. Right down the middle of her pitch black hair. HALP.”

So, in keeping with the Celebrity Spirit, its all about ME, I just wanted to have the final say, and announce, “Dale, I enjoy reading your blog, Clark County Real Estate Guide, it reminds me of home. I feel very grateful you allowed me to treat you to coffee the other day and deliver your copy of the RETHINKING PAPER & INK. I ought to have more contests, I meet up with the best people!”

*BIG SISTER HUG*

“Finally, it will NOT be ten years before we meet up again, okay? (And yes I’m lying about how long it’s really been). Because, soon, very soon, we will be celebrating Bridget Chumbley and the publication of her first young adult novel. That’s a promise!”

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Celebrities who’ve met ME! Meet Dale Chumbley

Dale Chumbley, Realtor® in Clark County, Washington and winner of Ooligan Press book.

He can say, he knew me when…

Many moons ago, when we were both cute young things, Dale and I worked together at a media company, a behemoth news giant in all of Southwest Washington. I thought I was important and gave him orders. He thought I knew what I was doing and followed them exactly and tootled around the county in a little white car to accommodate my many pick-up and delivery demands. Occasionally, he took a break from my sweet requests and drove the boss’ Jaguar, but that was only for very specific and important company business: a quick swish through the car wash.

At the time, enamored by his smile, I scoured fading memory banks to decipher why—when I gazed into his bright blue eyes that not only made you warm and fuzzy, but made you want to give him a big sister squeeze—each encounter with Dale left me hungry. For food. Peanut butter and jelly to be exact.

The mystery erupted to the surface in startling fashion—Sunny Jim bounced out of obscurity. He smiled from his position as the heavily promoted advertising icon of a Seattle peanut butter empire that made its first entrance at Pike Place Market. My dad grew up on that stuff, it was pumping through my veins when I was born, until he entered kindergarten that is ALL my real-little-brother ate, and I’m only slightly exaggerating.

Dale wasn’t interested in spreading peanut butter stories through our department and tried to convince me he was far short of wholesome, in fact, he claimed to have been a goth teen. He swore he left for high-school looking like a regular guy, changed clothes along the way, and showed up looking more like this… –>
[Photo provided by Dale Chumbley].

I have avoided Dale’s mum, Tracy Chumbley also a Realtor®, ever since that revelation. I’m such a tattle-tale, I feared I would disclose Dale’s sordid past and ruin her pristine image of such a fine-upstanding son, because surely she was as worried as the rest of us about that other son, Darin, who did not delight in college but ran away to sing and dance in New York. It turned out okay, Darin danced his way into the heart of a beautiful girl and they now live within a block of Times Square, which offers plenty of fodder for his photography career.

“Hey Tracy, maybe now that I’m a mom, you can give me some ADVICE: my kid has a wild streak. Blond. Right down the middle of her pitch black hair. HALP.”

So, in keeping with the Monday Spirit, its all about ME, I just wanted to have the final say, and announce, “Dale, I enjoy reading your blog, Clark County Real Estate Guide, it reminds me of home. I feel very grateful you allowed me to treat you to coffee the other day and deliver your copy of the RETHINKING PAPER & INK. I’m thinking I ought to have more contests, I find the best people!”

*HUGS*

“Finally, it will NOT be ten years before we meet up again, okay? (And yes I’m lying about how long it’s really been). Because, soon, very soon, we will be celebrating Bridget Chumbley and the publication of her first young adult novel. That’s a promise!”

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Harrison Ford mixes it up with cute shoes

I put on my cute shoes yesterday. In total preparation for the meet and greet with Harrison Ford. It made it difficult to work. I’m sure he was as nervous as I felt, and likely neither one of us got enough paper pushing done.

Well, guess what? I think we got our wires crossed, because Mr. Ford did not meet me, he met my friend Dale Chumbley, who authorized use of the evidence. Dale’s picture appeared in the local media, and after Dale begged me sufficiently, I relented and agreed to allow him to post his picture here on my blog.

Before Dale got all famous and began hanging out with famous movie-star-directors he labored with me in the local media. I gave Dale work orders and he drove the company’s customer service car. Dale wasn’t done with my family and went on to work with my sister. I’ve written about her before, she’s my OLDER sister, always has been. One of the most amazing aspects of Dale is his continuous smile, joyous embracing, of life no matter what the obstacles and he’s had a few, and his professional dedication to his real estate clients.

Now, real estate is something I know about (no, I don’t). In fact, there’s a pinch of real estate in my manuscript, commercial real estate, joint venture deals, unauthorized movement of money, a big fight between Kerri Ann and her husband Lee…

There you go, allowing things to get all sidetracked on ME, when I wanted to share Dale’s good fortune. Take a look!
Thanks, Dale! You’re the best. I’ll be buying that cup of coffee for you now, and catching up on all your news. (I think I have that backwards, the conversation will likely be all about me, but you already knew that).

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Harrison Ford mixes it up with cute shoes

I put on my cute shoes yesterday. In total preparation for the meet and greet with Harrison Ford. It made it difficult to work. I’m sure he was as nervous as I felt, and likely neither one of us got enough paper pushing done.

Well, guess what? I think we got our wires crossed, because Mr. Ford did not meet me, he met my friend Dale Chumbley, who authorized use of the evidence. Dale’s picture appeared in the local media, and after Dale begged me sufficiently, I relented and agreed to allow him to post his picture here on my blog.

Before Dale got all famous and began hanging out with famous movie-star-directors he labored with me in the local media. I gave Dale work orders and he drove the company’s customer service car. Dale wasn’t done with my family and went on to work with my sister. I’ve written about her before, she’s my OLDER sister, always has been. One of the most amazing aspects of Dale is his continuous smile, joyous embracing, of life no matter what the obstacles and he’s had a few, and his professional dedication to his real estate clients.

Now, real estate is something I know about (no, I don’t). In fact, there’s a pinch of real estate in my manuscript, commercial real estate, joint venture deals, unauthorized movement of money, a big fight between Kerri Ann and her husband Lee…

There you go, allowing things to get all sidetracked on ME, when I wanted to share Dale’s good fortune. Take a look!
Thanks, Dale! You’re the best. I’ll be buying that cup of coffee for you now, and catching up on all your news. (I think I have that backwards, the conversation will likely be all about me, but you already knew that).

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How to tie a tie, and lessons in the art

Lee’s property and Kerri Ann’s growing interest in real estate.

Saturday. Lee got out of bed and his bare feet pattered over the hardwood. He wore slacks, no shirt and sat at the table. I placed toast and coffee in front him. He didn’t look up.

“Lee, there’s a piece of property I want to discuss with you.”

“Which one?” he said, pulling the business section out.

“You own it, centrally located, I like it, nice piece.”

“Hm,” he answered, flipping the section open.

“I really like it,” I stressed, and placed my hand in the middle of his paper.

He bristled at the interruption, then noticed my hand poked out of the cuff of his suit jacket. “Who said you could wear my clothes?”

I flipped the silk tie wrapped around my neck in his face.

He glanced at my throat.“Who taught you to knot a tie?”

“No one, and no one,” I grinned…
(A Single Pearl, Chapter 7).

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A Single Pearl

When Kerri Ann marries tall, dark and handsome it doesn’t matter that he is Korean, until she is shunned by his traditionalist family. Her husband, Korean born Jae-Chun Lee, is seeped in old world bias, and unless being raised in a shack by an alcoholic is a culture, she doesn’t have one. He seizes her unexpected inheritance to rescue a joint venture deal and triggers every anxiety and agitation of her youth.

Miscarriage, affair, marriage over. She disappears, launches her own real estate career, and purchases the company she manages with a handshake, which doesn’t survive the ensuing offer from a hostile corporation. She faces her new boss, her ex, only he’s not. He never finalized the divorce and she still wears his solitary pearl. Can the cultural divide be bridged, and why does she ask him for his mother’s broom?

A Single Pearl is in process — written and working through the editing process. Watch for an excerpt to be published soon.

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