The Media Moment
The Man on the Inside on Netflix was my November binge and it totally blindsided me—in the best way. I pressed play because, hello, Ted Danson, and figured it would make the perfect background show while I checked off my to-do list. Spoiler alert: my to-do list is still unchecked because this show had other plans.
It starts off light and quirky, pulling you in like a warm hug, and then—bam—it sneaks up on you and tugs at your heartstrings in the gentlest, most unexpected way. Somehow, it beautifully tackles the heavy stuff: watching your parents age, the heartbreak of a dementia diagnosis (been there, written about it in I’m Sorry I Cremated You), and the rawness of the human condition—all while keeping things surprisingly uplifting.
Oh, and here’s the kicker: Cheers (starring Ted Danson, of course) was my dad’s favorite show growing up. Now, decades later, here’s Ted Danson, about the same age my dad would be, comforting me in the weirdest yet most wonderful full-circle moment.
Is this show winning an Emmy anytime soon? Probably not. Did it make me laugh, cry, and feel ridiculously seen all at once? Absolutely. If you’ve ever loved a parent, do yourself a favor and watch this.
The Story
Two Saturdays ago, I had what might just go down as the best day ever. It started with meeting my new friend Jacqueline (yes, same name as me—first time that’s happened), who is also a writer. Side note: is it weird that calling myself a writer still feels like I’m playing dress-up? We met at the cutest coffee shop downtown, talked about all things creative, and I left feeling totally inspired and ready to take on the world.
Naturally, my next stop was Buxton Books, the crown jewel of Charleston’s bookstores. Armed with a copy of I’m Sorry I Cremated You, I was on a mission to meet the owner and make my pitch to get my book on their shelves. I had the pleasure of meeting Polly Buxton, who was as amazing, warm, and wonderful as I’d hoped. She told me she’d order my book right away and let me know when it arrives so I can come by to sign them. Cue the high-pitched squeals echoing down the street!
Just when I thought the day couldn’t possibly get better, fate decided to sprinkle a little more magic. I wandered down King Street a bit, to shop, because it was a gorgeous day and I felt like treating myself. That’s when I spotted her. Martha Stewart. Yes, THE Martha Stewart, walking into a boutique ahead of me. Did I casually keep walking like a normal person? No. Of course not. I followed her in, because I’m me.
The store, RTW, was one of those places where the air itself whispers, “You can’t afford anything here.” But I was determined to fake it, so I started browsing and inching closer to Martha and her very chic girl gang. The saleslady was sweet, but I could see it in her eyes—she knew I was riffraff off the street who couldn’t actually buy anything.
Then I struck up a conversation with someone in Martha’s orbit: Charlotte Beers. (Go ahead and Google her—she’s a legend.) She casually mentioned she’s writing a memoir about grief, and I casually mentioned I just published my first book... also about grief. What are the odds? She asked for the title, and when I told her—I’m Sorry I Cremated You—she laughed out loud. We talked books, exchanged info, and honestly, it felt like a scene out of a movie.
Meanwhile, I’d been eyeing this gorgeous brown leather purse. It was wildly out of my price range, but Charlotte insisted I had to buy it as a gift to myself for publishing my book. Martha herself wandered over, gave me an approving nod, and smiled like, “Yes, darling. You deserve it.”
Reader, I bought the purse. It was the cheapest thing in the store (which doesn’t say much), but I justified it as a symbol of one of the most surreal days of my life. Buxton Books agreed to carry my book. I accidentally joined Martha Stewart’s entourage. Charlotte Beers may read my memoir. And now I have a purse that will forever remind me of the day the universe handed me a moment straight out of a rom-com, minus the handsome male lead. There’s always next weekend, right?
My only regret? Not having a copy of my book on hand to give to Martha or Charlotte. Sure, I had plenty in my car parked right out front, but there was no way I was letting them catch a glimpse of my trusty, beat-up 2010 Honda Civic. Humble as it may be, that car proudly carries one happy new author (and her fancy new purse) on the adventures of a lifetime.
The Thoughts
The holiday season is here, and for many, it’s a time of joy, family, and celebration. But for some, it can feel bittersweet or just downright sad. There might be an empty chair or two where loved ones once sat, and the absence of family can make it impossible to embrace the festivities. For others, the season can highlight what we're missing, even while we're doing our best to be grateful for what we have. But hey, on the bright side, at least we don’t have to pretend to love fruitcake anymore, right? Let’s remember to spread kindness and love, especially to those who need it most. And let’s take a moment to celebrate the blessings we do have, big and small.
Love to all!
Jaclyn
Love this…can’t wait see that purse!
Ahhh! Amazing! And I can't wait to see the purse!