The CHILL program takes underprivileged teens to local mountains to learn to snowboard one day a week for six weeks. Equipment and lift tickets come care of Burton. Some of the kids have never seen the mountains before, though many times they live within an hour drive of a range.

Because my life had been a rollercoaster I was only able to be a volunteer chaperone on the last week for the Los Angeles program. But after such a great day I wish I had been on board the whole time.

I was paired with Alex, Dana, and Jamell tenth graders from a high school in Compton. The boys were perfect gentlemen when they weren’t giggling about girls, which I must say was completely charming to behold. The boys had been taught in the first 5 weeks to snowboard, this week they were just going to ride. I was told to shadow them; always keeping them in front of me so if they had a spill I could quickly assist or seek medical help. I quickly learned that these instructions were not superfluous.

I’ve always thought that one day I’d be a boy’s mom. I like climbing trees, getting dirty, playing sports, and generally being rough. But I had no idea. None. Teenage boys never consider the landing only the take off. In five weeks the three boys were already better than me though I’ve been boarding for five years. They were completely fearless and ready to go down any black diamond, ramp or jump that presented itself. I tried to keep them in front of me but one would be making his way up a ten foot jump before I knew it while the other would race ahead to see if he could catch a cute girl on skis. And it might sound like I’m complaining but I loved every minute. Seeing that kind of blind trust in nature, themselves, God, physics, and whatever else was inspiring. Sometimes, upon reaching the top of the lift, the boys would just stop and stare at the vista, and say things like “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” I had forgotten that. That joy and wonder at just being up at 8,000, 10,000, even 12,000 feet. The thin clean air and the view.

At the end of the day one of the boys smiled sadly as we entered the bus and said, “I can’t believe it’s over.” I nudged him, “You can always come back.” He smiled sheepishly, coming back didn’t seem to be an option, when lunch is hard to afford a thirty/forty dollar lift ticket is out of the question. “Well, I have the memories,” he said. “Great memories.” I gave him a hand heater from my pocket and tried not to cry.

CHILL’s Mission is to build the self-esteem of underserved youth through board sports. To find out more visit google Burton CHILL or just click this CHILL link.

[Picture: The boys and I make it safely off the mountain.]

I picked oranges with them in July and ever since then I have been halfway obsessed with unpicked fruit trees of any kind. I walk around my neighborhood in a twist over orange and lemon trees which are practically suffocating under the weight of fruit which could make gallons upon gallons of juice, jellies, or pies (pies are clearly the best choice).

To pacify my tree issues I volunteered to pass out Food Forward flyers, which explain the groups mission and services. All I had to do was place it on the doorstep of those people who have loaded trees during my usual walk. Some people might feel this is akin to putting “thanks for destroying the planet” signs on Hummer windshields, but I think not because it is offering free gardening services and does not say, “Hey noticed you were wasting food.”

I recruited my friend Christina, it took less than an hour to pass out 50 brochures, we got tons of exercise and we now know were to go to steal a lime or lemon for guacamole if we forget one at the store. So many problems solved. So little time. Now let’s just hope someone calls Food Forward to get their tree picked. Food Forward 818-530-4125 – just in case you need it.

Note to those who have already e-mailed me:  No, I’m not a pot user - really I don’t even like being around the smoke. However, I think it’s silly to pay taxes to fight a war against a plant which is less dangerous than alcohol, is a viable medical treatment for certain conditions, and could make us tons of money if we taxed it.

Would the legalization of marijuana in the United States be good for the environment?

Do I hear a resounding yes from the peanut gallery? Thought so. Beyond hyperbole and party favors the legalization of marijuana could actually benefit the environment.

Legalizing marijuana would…Read Full Article

At this point I should say something profound about the 50 volunteer projects and how they changed my life. Of course they did - anything I type at this point about that would be a boring cliché.  Instead, here are some of my favorite memories from my little adventures…

Sliding down embankments in Malibu with thigh high water waiters on – trying to get to  remote creeks so I could measure bacteria levels in the streams.

The first time I read to a classroom of 1st graders I lost my place in “The Velveteen Rabbit” and ended up improv-ing pages until I found my place.

Getting into a fight with another volunteer during a school cleanup because they were dumping bleach into the LA sewers.

Showing up at exactly the right time to read my uncle’s name at a 3-day continuous reading of the deceased listed on the Vietnam Memorial Wall.

Hurting my foot during Walk 4 Water and still having to do a 5k everyday for ten more days.

Walking into my bathroom in the morning and having a tiny herd of kittens stampede me and then crawl into my lap and fall asleep.

The homeless child in the lilac cap at the Christmas gift give-away.

Spotting birds with Audubon that I literally would have trampled a week earlier.

The people of Lake Arrowhead Rep.

Questioning my vegetarianism during the third hour of scooping sh$% at Animal Acres Farm Sanctuary.

Speaking at a city meeting in support of Marine Protection Areas and almost passing out.

How badly I wanted a loving family like the ones I met while preparing the Thanksgiving meal at the KidSave holiday party.

The simplicity of giving to KIVA.org.

Writing letters to soldiers for Operation Gratitude, telling them a few stories, and in return remembering Pa whisper his stories to me during his last weeks.

Missing Pa the whole time, every minute, and never being able to forget that I have huge shoes to fill.

[Picture: Pa tells me a story about three high strung bears and a bad blonde named Goldie Locks.]

You definitely don’t want your product ending up in the hands of those in poverty or, heaven forbid, people in the grip of a natural disaster, like say an earthquake in Haiti. Lord knows what would happen to your market share if your clothes turned up in an Associated Press picture on a starving person and that picture was distributed widely.  What’s a corporation to do?  How can they keep their clothes from being seen as inexpensive, cheap, and accessible to everyone?

If your Wal-Mart and H & M the answer seems to be: damage your unsold merchandise so it’s worthless and then dump it to create … Read More

Disjointed thoughts on my final volunteer mission:

It’s fortunate that I was doing this haircut for charity and for this blog or, honestly, it would not have happened. The morning of the scheduled chop I was face down in bed with my hands stretched beside me like a drowned Ophelia mumbling, “It’s for the children. I’m going to look like Peter Pan on Broadway. It’s for the children.”

Days earlier I had come to two realizations 1) I had hid behind my hair for years both physically and figuratively (Check fab naturally blonde hair in second grade above. Does anyone know why I’m sitting on a fallen Corinthian column?)… and 2) The last short hair cut I had was a bowl cut in first grade, which set the tone for my entire traumatic elementary school career. There is simply no coming back from a bowl cut or mullet. At the very least I was going to come out of this volunteer episode either looking like Hilary Swank in “Boys Don’t Cry” or my brother.

Searching for a charity to donate my locks had also left me somewhat raw and jaded. I had approached the most recognizable hair donation group only to be told I would need their permission to even mention their name in this blog little less to donate my hair. I was willing to jump through their media censoring hoops until it came to my attention they were charging some children for their hairpieces. Other non-profits had strict standards - some only accepting virgin hair (they should know that virgin anything is hard to come by). Thankfully, I eventually found a group called Children with Hair Loss, which gives wigs to children at no cost and has reasonable hair requirements (they accept donations of eight inches or longer and will take dyed, mildly process or gray hair).

The miracle worker known as Sheena Rush cut my hair. Sheena was the hairstyle assistant on “The Girls Next Door” and continues to work with actresses and models. She could make Donald Trump look good if he would let her touch his head. She is a good friend so she let me act like a goon and giggle uncontrollably during the haircut but maintained her professionalism so for that I thank her. The haircut she gave me is brilliant. I love it and I should have done it before.

My hair is in a manila envelope with two other ponytails (don’t ask me why Sheena’s salon was hoarding ponytails – creepy) traveling to Children with Hair Loss. I really hope they can use it and that all the red dye didn’t damage the hair follicle too much.

A wrap up of my thoughts on the 50 volunteer experiences will follow in a few days…

One particular familial quirk that might become apparent to you, loyal Celsias readers, is that your parents/grandparents/extended family might not care that much about the environment.

On a recent excursion home the realization that many of my family members either cared nothing for…Read Full Article

“Have fun being the person everyone avoids eye contact with.” – My brother, Austin, upon hearing that I was going to collect donations in front of Macy’s as a Salvation Army Red Kettle Volunteer.

What are those stalwart Salvation Army employees or volunteers thinking as they stand in the cold collecting your donations to feed the hungry during the holidays? Not sure but here’s a cross section of my thoughts on the occasion.

Upon arrival in front of Macy’s –

Three and a half hours is a long time to stand here. Oh cool, a bell with the Salvation Army crest on it. Maybe I can play a song with it.

First hour –

Hey this isn’t that bad. Time is flying by. Parents who give their kids money to put in the kettle are smart, but not original. Don’t smirk at me sir like you’re the first father to think of that trick. He’s teaching good morals, so I won’t rain on his smug parade. This isn’t going to be hard at all. The sunset was pretty. This is cool. Can’t play a song though, bell is too imprecise. Almost can do the opening to Jingle Bells. No one would recognize it. Should write spec script for Weeds. Don’t forget to pick up dish soap. Ohhh…more dollar bills. Thank you.

Second hour –

It’s getting a bit chilly. People are parting like the Red Sea to get around me. Can’t get “Ring My Bell” by Gloria Gainor out of my head. Old sir, if you drive a custom blue Bentley you can give me change. Wait. I see a pattern – the nicer the suit or car, bigger the shopping bag – less money. Man with no fingers just gave me money and you can’t woman alone in enormous Range Rover. Very Sad. Nice gentleman just came up took a wad of bills from his pocket, stuffed them in the kettle, and said, “I use to do that so I know how it feels.” I like him. Getting a little tired of the sound of the bell.

Third Hour –

Am freezing. Bell is grating. Hand is numb. Must move, perhaps a march will work with the whole “Army” theme. Thank you for the dollar dirty woman. Oh. You’re going to the trash to get the recycling. You’re going to need 20 bottles to replace that one dollar you donated. Wow, she did that fast and didn’t leave a mess. Good for you ma’am. I’ve made a lot of money, but I’m going to freeze to death so I will not get to do my smug smirk when they come get the kettle. When the van gets here they will find me frozen stiff, my hand will be mid-bell ring. Would stop ringing bell and hug my body to conserve warmth, but at this point bell ringing has become a compulsion.

Three Hours 20 minutes –

Must leave now am frozen. Please come get bucket now. You’re here. Yes! Would jump for joy but legs are shaking. Here is the lovely apron, and Santa hat. Can I keep the bell? No, can’t ask that - would be taking from a charity. Although would look good on my bookshelf. Hand him the bell. Okay fine there. Bye. Thank God, didn’t dress like slutty elf – would have made more money, but surely would have perished in the elements.

So there you have it - the thoughts of one little kettle ringer. Being a kettle volunteer for the Salvation Army is extremely easy after you get through the application process, which takes about 30 min. You will have to submit to a background check though. Don’t let their website scare you off – they aren’t going to try and convert you. The Salvation Army is an unbiased organization, which works with prisoners, drug addicts, the lonely, the sick, the elderly, those who are out of work, or have fallen on hard times. Basically, anyone who needs help is free to seek it at the Salvation Army so cough up your change next time you see the red bucket.

Having cancer gave me membership in an elite club I’d rather not belong to. –Gilda Radner

Every non-profit organization needs volunteers to do promotion work. If you work in marketing or media, can write a decent press release, know how to solicit donations, or throw a fundraiser then there is no charity you can’t help. I avoided promotion work so far because this blog is promotion work and I didn’t want to be redundant – that and writing about promotion work is BORING. However, during my non-profit research I found an amazing group called The Wellness Community that was taking a really unique approach to promotion so I decided to give it a try.

The Wellness Community is a global group, which offers education and hope to people who have been diagnosed with cancer. TWC offers support groups, counseling, nutrition and fitness classes, art and writing instruction, and various other forms of assistance. TWC West Los Angeles branch has combined some of their promotion work with the fitness campaigns Fitness, Fun and Philanthropy and the WTC-WLA Street Team. Both campaigns involve walking throughout your neighborhood talking to local business about The Wellness Communities programs, giving them posters or postcards, and soliciting donations for auctions, etc.

I decided to help out as a member of the Street Team so my job was to walk around Santa Monica passing out informative postcards to help recruit runners for the TWC annual Marathon and 5k training program. The training fee each runner pays goes to fund TWC’s many programs. I went to the The Wellness Community’s West Los Angeles office around noon, picked up a stack of postcards from volunteer coordinator Nicole who suggested the route I should take, and off I hiked.

The goal was to get the business to display the postcards or even pass them out to their customers. On my two mile circuit I found that: Banks are really unhelpful, and large chain restaurants aren’t much better except for The Coffee Bean &Tea Leaf and Starbucks both of which have a bulletine board for non-profit causes. In one hour I had passed out my large stack of cards, so I went back to The Wellness Community office grabbed some more postcards for my neighborhood and went home.

This volunteer activity was so simple in was actually hard to write about. No drama, no conflict, anyone can participate, and it’s something you could do on your lunch break or walking with friends. It’s promotion work but no cold calls or writing assignments required.

The Wellness Community recently combined with Gilda’s Club (named after the late and great Gilda Radner) to form The Cancer Support Community. Everyone knows someone suffering from cancer – please pass along the name of this wonderful group as it’s made such a difference for so many inflicted with such a horrible disease.

Definition of “Work Day” from Raegan’s Definitions and Translations of Common Entertainment Industry Terms

Part of speech – noun

1. A day, way too close to opening night, in which the cast and crew of a show descend upon the theatre or performance space to build the entire set, block the play, build the costumes, fix the wiring in the theatre, and learn their lines.

2. A theatrical right of passage identified by boxes of pizza, cups of coffee, power tools, and stage mothers.

Used in a sentence:
Don’t expect to see me at work next week. I have Work Day on Sunday so I’ll be useless for the next week and a half.

We didn’t get anything done on Work Day so we’ll be miming all of our props and using cue cards.

Next Definition/Translation - “You Need to loose some weight.”

About 2 years ago I set my sights on helping a little start up theatre company in the mountains near Los Angeles called Lake Arrowhead* Repertory Theatre Company. I got in touch with Artistic Director Chuck Marra and threatened to write him a short play or audition for him, but in two years I hadn’t managed to drag myself up the mountain. It was fortuitous then that I needed a volunteer day in the theatre both for this project and my peace of mind.

You must understand that theatre companies operate much like a large family. They’re competitive, but generally come together for the good of the show and even can be described as supportive. Most importantly theatre companies are generally made up of people who just really love theatre and a good audience. I needed those people. I needed to be around them and remember what this crazy job is about because it’s easy to forget why I wanted to be an actor and writer in Los Angeles. Between scrambling for rent each month, trying to get my weight into the unnaturally-thin range, worrying if my ancient Honda Accord is going to make it to the next audition, filtering posers out from the real people, and deciding how far I’m willing to go to put dinner on the table I kinda forget the joy in just telling a story.

I drove up the mountain on a beautiful crisp winter day, to the small city of Crestline, CA, which houses the theatre. LARTC has made their home in an old Army building that looks like a giant aluminum tub cut in half. The inside of the theatre has a small proscenium stage and 320 seats. For the first 15 minutes after I arrived I was hugged. They were a friendly bunch, especially the kids that were in attendance to rehearse their scenes in A Christmas Carol.

Rehearsal was going on during set construction. On the stage the frame of a Tudor house with two doorways was being painted. In the front room of the theatre, which doubled as the theatre café, a group of women were sewing costumes. Chuck asked me what I was comfortable doing so I told him to show me the power tools because I needed to screw something. No really, I’m good with power tools, especially a Makita. What did you think I meant? Dirty.

For the next 7 hours I measured, sawed, pulled out nails, and screwed together set pieces. We even managed to recycle an old flat platform by turning it into two desks for the office scene that would then be pushed together for Scrooges bed later in the play (see picture of me and Ally at work). The whole time we worked the cast wandered around us like zombies mumbling lines. In professional theatre you’re under pressure to have the part memorized when you come to first rehearsal. With opening night only 5 days away they were pushing it. Chuck snickered at this and pointed to one of the guys on stage. “See him. Not a professional actor. A contractor. But he’s an actor with us and he’s amazing.”

I met Ally, a great girl who had moved up to Crestline to start a new life. I told her I had often thought of moving up to the mountain. It’s gorgeous up there and the people are great. Word of what I had said spread through the theatre company and by the end of the day I had been given the “move to the mountain” pitch by at least 7 different members of the company. I was almost ready to pack my bags.

I finished the day by helping them clean out an old utility closet of paint so the fire inspector wouldn’t shut them down. Theatre work is so glamorous.

Covered with sawdust, full of junk food and talk of short play festivals and teaching acting classes for kids I drove home happy. Really happy that there are still small theatre companies in the world.

Most communities have a small or large theatre group that you can volunteer to help with whether it be during a work day, ushering, or doing promotions. Your chamber of commerce or local library should be able to point you towards a playhouse in your area.

* For those wondering – Yes – Lake Arrowhead like the bottled water - same place.