I love celebrations, a genetic disposition inherited from my mother who honored all holidays, birthdays, anniversaries and any random occasion in between. Growing up in Mama’s house meant family members were required to obtain a degree from Nel Yeary’s Event Decorating and Themed Appetizer School. You know it’s bad when your garage is full of storage totes labeled for St. Patrick’s Day, a minor calendar event in a home of Anglican genealogy. We’re not Irish, but that didn’t stop Mama from baking green shamrock-shaped blueberry muffins which, once you got past the lime green food coloring, were, actually, quite tasty.

Mom’s move into an assisted living facility resulted in a serious paring down of her lifelong party décor collection. This is where four daughters come in. My sisters and I kept some of her special mementos, proudly displaying them in our respective homes when the right holiday rolls around. Well, that’s not entirely true. I possess, but do not display, Mom’s voice-activated door décor Easter Bunny that, upon a door’s opening, screeches in a Jack Nicholson-meets-an-overcaffeinated-Bugs Bunny voice, “Heeeeeeeey, Some Bunny Loves You!” It scared the children when they were little, not to mention my husband who is still adjusting to the fact his mother-in-law once owned musical Easter egg salt and pepper shakers that played Irving Berlin’s “The Easter Parade.” (The pepper shaker always was stuck on the first verse though a firm wrist shake could easily remedy the problem.)

Of course, fashion accompanied the fanfare. Mom owned enough costume and holiday-themed jewelry to fill a small warehouse. Her style was a cross between Liberace and Katy Perry. The more bling, the better… especially if it was shaped like a Christmas tree. You can only imagine Mom’s elation when her middle-school-aged daughter informed her she was going to be in a play about the American Revolution. Before sundown, Mama had whipped out her sewing machine and created a red, white and blue long dress and kerchief. I’m not sure how many of our founding fathers and mothers wore kerchiefs, but I wore mine with patriotic pride. Never mind the fact my dress was made from one of Mom’s Fourth of July tablecloths. Ketchup stains added a raw kind of panache to my style. So, there, George Washington!

Naturally, I’m a little misty thinking about ways to celebrate Ocala Magazine’s 30th anniversary. Sure, we have the perfunctory anniversary issue and will relish in the well-earned acknowledgement that lasting 30 years in any business, let alone the mercurial publishing world, is nothing short of amazing. Naturally, champagne must be included. However, I wonder: how would Mama celebrate this landmark occasion? I have to believe an O-shaped cake would be involved. Add in some earrings shaped like a magazine. Don’t forget ya gotta have 30 balloons.

And maybe… just maybe… a singing bunny full of love and celebration. Why not? I know just the place you can get one.