Run Of Show

Throwback to when I co-hosted the Wearable Art show with my dad in 2018.

February 6, 2026

For months now, much of my work has lived in the serious and the consequential.

Decisions that ripple outward.

Conversations that require care.

Leadership that asks me to be steady even when things are anything but.

So when a friend asked if I’d help prepare for and co-host a one-of-a-kind show, I enthusiastically said yes.

Not because it was small.

But because it was different.

Together, we’ve been building something delightfully unexpected—

part halftime magic,

part community showcase.

I'll put on a blazer,

slip on a headset,

and wear a giant smile.

There will be a camera in front of us.

A countdown.

That moment where you take a breath, smile, and know we are about to go live.

We will welcome local singers and performers onto the stage for a special kind of halftime show—

one that’s playful, warm, and proudly local.

There’s something I love about a run of show.

The order.

The pacing.

The choreography behind the scenes that makes everything feel effortless on the other side of the screen.

This is the part of me that loves running the show.

Holding the thread.

Managing transitions.

Keeping the energy moving while making space for others to shine.

It’s creative,

but also precise.

Light,

but never careless.

After months of carrying work that is important and heavy,

this has been a joyful return to a different kind of leadership.

One rooted in presence.

Timing.

Connection.

Fun.

A reminder that alongside the strategist and decision-maker lives a performer who loves the hum just before “we’re live,” the rhythm of real-time moments, and the satisfaction of watching something come together exactly as planned.

Not everything meaningful has to be weighty.

Not every contribution has to carry gravity.

Sometimes meaning looks like a headset,

a blazer, a lineup of local talent,

and a run of show that says:

Three...

Two...

One...

We are live.