Author Archives: ScrambledMeg

I had coffee with some friends this morning, and I’m pretty sure I had one of those annoyingly poignant Oprah moments.  One guy was joking around, saying that while he was changing his 2 year old’s diaper, he kept thinking “Damn.  I was meant for grander purposes than changing this kid’s filth!  Why do I have to do this?”  Everyone laughed except me.

You see, I spent last Thursday at the Miller Children’s Hospital in Long Beach, handing out baby blankets to parents of infants in the NICU, toddlers on oxygen and pre-teens with feeding tubes.  As one of the numerous perks of my crazy career, I was invited to drive a race car (an insanely fun experience, of course) in the Toyota Pro-Celebrity Grand Prix of Long Beach, which raised tens of thousands of dollars for the Miller Children’s Hospital.  Before the race, all of the celebrity drivers visited the hospital, signed fan photos and did a little “meet and greet” for the afternoon.  We gathered in the lobby of the hospital and were briefed on the protocol for our visit.  Most importantly, we were told, NEVER ask a patient why they are there or when they are going home.  The unspoken reality was that some of these kids will never go home.

We walked through the hospital floors — me, a Jonas brother, a UFC fighter, and our motley crew of celebs — pulling red wagons full of toys and books and blankets, smiling and laughing and joking around.  We put on a good show, but the whole time, my heart was in my throat.  I sang songs, made crazy faces, put on a Tinkerbell costume in the play area, and tried not to notice the IV stands, the wheelchairs and the yellow hospital bracelets.  It just wouldn’t compute.  (These kids couldn’t be sick, could they?  My God, they’re just CHILDREN.)  I looked into the face of a 20 month old girl, Alyssa, who had both Down Syndrome and leukemia, and saw pure joy.  Her mother was so proud of how affectionate her daugher was, with her incredible energy and brilliant smile.  As I held Alyssa, she patted my face and stared into my eyes and just radiated happiness.  There was NO WAY this girl could be sick.  I didn’t want to let myself believe it, because I couldn’t handle it — Alyssa was handling it just fine.

Spending the afternoon with those patients and their families brought home to me the importance of remembering to say THANK YOU to God, the Universe, or whatever greater power you find out there.  So for this week, I’ve changed my vocabulary.  I GET TO exercise today.  I GET TO feed my dog.  I GET TO weed the garden.  I GET TO do my laundry.  I GET TO wipe my daughter’s nose and clean off the skinned knee she got learning to climb the Japanese maple tree in our front yard.  My kid is climbing a tree.  She’s dressing herself and making up knock-knock jokes for the Easter Bunny and she is healthy.  For every moment of this life of mine, I am so grateful.

So, after much cajoling, begging and wheedling (and MAJOR help from one of our producers ), I managed to implement Meatless Monday on the set of Rules of Engagement.  I worked with our craft service head honcho, Rhonda, and came up with a plan to both satisfy the cast & crew and avoid killing any living creatures for at least one day.  I thought it was pretty straightforward – eat delicious food that happens to not have meat in it.  I stayed up the night before the big launch until after midnight, writing recipes, making a big, funny sign to hang in the kitchen, and compiling a list of concise, nutritional facts that I thought might put people’s minds at ease about going meatless (OH MY GOD!  NO MEAT FOR ONE WHOLE DAY!!!)  I arrived at work at 6:00 a.m., giddy for the day, all hopped up on steel cut oats and flax seed.  I put up my signs, hung my recipes and went to hair/makeup to prepare for a 10 hour day of shooting.  When I walked out to set, two hours later, I took a moment to address our crew.  I welcomed them to Meatless Monday, told them how much it meant to me that we were doing this, thanked them for their participation, and said, “kindly vent your bacon rage on me and not the craft service lady.”  I smiled and stood there, and . . . nothing.  Nobody said a word.  Total silence.  I felt a bit of hostility in the air and then someone said, “All right.  Let’s get to work.”  I slinked off set and felt my stomach lurch.

Later in the day, I heard many positive comments about the whole concept and, of course, absolute raves about the food (it really was so tasty – Italian stuffed portabello mushrooms, bucatini pasta with roasted garlic, zucchini and sundried tomatoes, rosemary focaccia, tiramisu, eggplant lasagna – deliciously decadent!).  But the quiet haters really bothered me.  I heard murmurings about “food Nazis” and “liberals” FORCING them to go without meat.  Well, first of all, my father fought in World War II in the army infantry, on the ground in the Battle of the Bulge — so, please, have some respect, and don’t call his daughter a Nazi.  As far as the “liberal” label goes, I grew up in Oklahoma , graduated from Stanford University, and have voted Republican, Democrat and Green Party at different times in my life.    I think staunch, polarized political positions are for the wildly ignorant.  (Read more than one news source, friends.  You’d be amazed at how enlightening opposing views are.)   I’m very wary of politicians who never “flip-flop” on an issue.  New information necessitates reevaluation.   If you open the door, and it’s raining, don’t you run back in and exchange your tube top for a turtle neck?  So don’t call me liberal and don’t call me conservative, because it ain’t that simple.  My eyes are open, and I change my mind when necessary.  I believe, in the words of that wise, wise man, Bobby Brown, “It’s My Prerogative.”

The takeaway is that Meatless Monday was a 75% success – lots of people loved it.  I know I sound naïve, and, call me Pollyanna, but I expected a little more curiosity and little less animosity.  As I look back, I’m proud and happy that, even for just one day, the people I work with and love made a huge, positive, healthy change, and no animals had to be slaughtered in the process.  And, by the way, from what I remember, Pollyanna lived happily ever after.

My name is Little Miss Megyn Price

And people seem to think I’m nice

But what they don’t know

Is I like to go

To Las Vegas and gamble with dice

(Winner, 3rd grade limerick contest)

I thought it appropriate to begin this blog on the day of my parents’ anniversary.  My parents chose this, the holiest of all holy days, April Fool’s Day, to exchange their sacred vows.  I am one of eight children — three were his, two were hers and we last three are theirs.  I have two siblings with double-jointed thumbs and two sisters named Susan.  My Great Aunt was so jealous of my Grandmother, that when Grandma got a dog named “Princess,” Aunt Dot got a dog and named her “Queenie.”  That’s my genetic pool.  We’re feisty, hard-working and quick to laugh at each other, especially when we light ourselves on fire, as one of the Susan’s does disturbingly often.

I’ve been told that, from the outside, my life looks glamorous and perfect.  Now, don’t get me wrong — I know I’ve got it good.  I have a wildly, enviable job and I love my life.  Most days, I’m so grateful I could pinch my dog.  But, the word perfect doesn’t even enter into this equation.  I am an actress by trade, but, the rest of the time, I’m a cooking, child-rearing, dancing, cheese-making, vegetable-growing, chicken-raising, triathlon-training, imperfect vegetarian circus act.  How do I “juggle it all?”  Well, I don’t.  Children get dropped.  Hamsters get ignored.  Mascara gets smeared.  When I stop beating myself up for the mistakes, however, I laugh one hell of a lot more and wrinkle one hell of a lot less.  There’s your beauty tip for the day.  Oh, and use coconut oil to take off your makeup.  It’s gentler and cheaper than all the other stuff on the market . . . and your eyelids will smell like the Lido deck of the Love Boat.

There’s an old Buddhist saying I love:  “There are only two mistakes one can make on the road to happiness;  not going all the way and not starting.”  This is my start.