"Follow Amy!" said no sane person EVER

A familiar sentiment that runs through practically EVERY single one of my stories is the exasperated ending of "I don't know WHAT I was thinking!" This story is no different.

I used to fancy myself in a solid leadership role: A respected person who others admired and wanted to emulate; a cool-headed decision-maker that others would look to in times of trial; a visionary who could transform creative thought into mind-transforming action. "Follow me, guys," I would shout, a battle-cry to summon the leaderless minions around me, and we would unleash the hounds, storm the castle, surge the shores, or, at the very least, create something inspirational out of cardboard. But, as years passed and reality set in, I came to finally see that those starved for leadership and guidance didn't necessarily have a hankering to follow me. Me? I was the lone clapper in the auditorium. I was the only one stupid enough to submit a book club review as part of a professional development initiative. I once led a Vacation Bible School program where only ONE kid showed up (Trying to be positive, I told my friend, Sarah, "We saved the hell out of that kid."). No. I yell, "Follow me!" and people run the OTHER way. 

So what does one do when one thinks she has a potentially great idea (Last minute Boss's Day Tribute Video) but lacks the leadership capabilities (singing talent or choreography skills) to garner public support? She bullies, begs, and blackmails established leaders into bringing her idea to life. 

Case in point:

Amy (to obnoxious people who everyone seems to like and will willingly do stuff for):

How about a video song parody of Nicki Minaj's "Super Bass" as "Super Boss" and use a chipmunk voice transformer to adjust our voices? We'd start by changing every f-word to "friend." Not a lot of time to organize for Wednesday, though. No one will hurt my feelings if you want to shelve what could possibly be the Best Boss's Day tribute EVER until next year. Your $3 card will be equally epic, I'm sure.

Response from obnoxious leader #1 (Erin): Do we know how to do this? I'm game for whatever we want to do! I love the lyrics once I read them.

Amy: Of course we don't know how to do this...but Kelly's a whiz at video. 

And obviously you DIDN'T read those lyrics...Nicki is pure smut. But easy enough to re-write if we try.

Response from obnoxious leader #2 (Tyler): Amy, I love your idea!! I’m in.

Just like how we do karaoke videos! Let’s do it. 

Translation:  You do all the work. I'll take all the credit.

Amy:  So we need to start re-working lyrics and get a basic story board in place...

I have a long pink wig...prop ideas? In addition to replacing out f-words...we have some

politically incorrect ideologies to spin in a more professional direction.

Three frustrating hours later, I am forced to face some elemental truths about myself. 

First and foremost:  I cannot rap.

Amy:  Would Megan Trainor's "All about that bass" be easier?

Erin:  For sure.

Tyler:  Definitely.

Amy:  Cowards.

Tyler:  Easier lyrics to change and sing but if you want to channel your inner Nicki, I’m all in.

Translation:  You do all the work. I'll take all the credit. But if it's stupid, I'm blaming you.

 Amy:  Sigh...channeling Megan Trainor is NOT my style. That girl is WAY too happy and positive. But time is of the essence.

Erin:  What's wrong with a happy and positive girl, Amy? 

Twelve hours later…re-written song sent to “committee.”

Amy:  This needs SERIOUS editing if we intend for it to be presented on Wednesday.  My hopes are faltering.

Erin (responding within 15 seconds): It’s perfect…just assign us all parts and we got this.

Amy:  You could NOT have possibly sang it TO THE MUSIC in the time it took you to respond. It is NOT perfect!

Amy (again): Never mind…let’s just get him a card. This is ridiculous.

Tyler (fresh from a good night’s sleep):  Amy, this is great. Just a couple of tweeks of syllables and it’s a for-sure win. Great job! Keep it up and you’ll be in the next school bus karaoke!

Amy:  Ugh…no thanks. Too reserved and shy a girl for the limelight.

So I determined the song, I re-wrote the lyrics, I found the instrumental, I developed the choreography, I scheduled a performance time and location...and NO ONE SHOWED UP. I am an utter failure.

Erin, used to having people drop EVERYTHING they’re doing at her beck and call, was shocked by this lack of response to a project headed by Amy Mosiman. Feeling sorry for me, she rallied and insisted that just the two of us could produce this video tribute. Minutes later, confronted by my abysmal singing skills and utter lack of stage presence, Erin panicked and rushed around the building, pulling contractors out of the ceiling, swimmers out of the pool, and spectators watching modified sports off the bleachers to be in our video.

It was done. And so were any hopes of my having even a smidgen of leadership ability.

Even to the bitter end, Erin remained upbeat and positive:

Erin:  We rocked it! Just sayin’!

Amy: You were instrumental in the success of this project!

So now the existential question. If I’m not a leader and I’m not a follower…what AM I? I’m not a loner. And obviously I lack the necessary rhythm to dance to the beat of my own drum. Am I a floater? Eww. No…and I tend to fight the current anyway. I’m not sure how to parley my strength sets of sarcastic remarks and alliteration into a societal position. It’s time I faced facts and threw in the towel. Me…a leader? What was I even thinking?