It actually took me two or three guesses before I realized that I had gotten a book contract from a publisher, that I had missed a pretty important phone call. After a moment of taking it in, I made a bee line for the phone in my bedroom where I called my agent who confirmed what Jenny had just told me.

Hearing you’ve got a book deal is exciting enough, but then having it in writing, signed in blue ink is quite something. it’s the tangible proof. So, my memoir, “Do You Dream in Color: Insights from a Girl without Sight” will be published some time in the Fall of this year or in early Spring of next year. The book is about Laurie Rubin, the opera singer/jewelry designer who lives in New York City with her guide dog Mark, and her life partner, Jenny Taira. It takes you on a journey through her childhood, through the trials and tribulations of being the only blind teenager at her high school, about navigating the classical music industry as one with a disability, and being included in all adventures with her family, including snow and water skiing and river rafting. I’ll be sure to post updates about the book’s pub date when I have them. Stay tuned!

I was awakened by my cell phone which I did not pick up. When I later retrieved the message, I heard the voice of a trainer from the Guide Dog Foundation where my current guide, Mark hails from. Just to rewind for a moment, I made the very difficult decision last year to put in an application for Mark’s successor, a standard poodle since poodles are non-shedding and I’m around several people who are either allergic or sensitive to shedding hair. Poodles are not bred nearly as much as labs as the perfect breeding stock is harder to come by, and the ideal city poodle is even harder as they’re a little more high strung than labs. So I was told since there was a lot more demand than supply, I’d be put on an 18 month to 3 year waiting list for a poodle. Mark’s almost 9, and though he’s still healthy and working fine (knock on wood) he is getting up there, and I figured I should be prepared for when the time does come for him to retire.

As I listened to the message from the guide dog school, I learned that they do have “the perfect poodle” for me right now. These things certainly can’t be predicted, and having a new dog thrust on me when I wasn’t prepared was like the shock of cold water being splashed on my face. At first, I pronounced to Jenny and anyone else who would listen that I wouldn’t take this dog, that it was way too soon. However, a later conversation with the trainer when I had called her back prompted a change of heart. She told me that poodles are rare as gold dust, and that it was pretty amazing that they found such an ideal match for me at this time. Besides, one is never prepared to retire a guide dog which is inevitable anyway.

I’m excited about the idea of walking with a poodle. From what other poodle handlers have told me, it’s like walking with a cloud. They’re so graceful and light on their feet. Walking with Mark is like being pulled by a very fast and powerful sports car which is fun and thrilling at times, and a bit scary at others. However, Mark is my baby. He is my comfort. The very smell of him soothes me. Thinking of having another dog by my side and being absorbed into my life is remarkably similar to that of a child who cries him or herself to sleep at night when the stuffed animal or blankie they’ve had forever is taken from them and is replaced by a new, unfamiliar one. Mark means security when we’re sleeping. Knowing he’s there makes us feel like all is right with the world. Having a stranger sleeping near the bed just sounds so surreal and kind of empty. I’m sure after a while, the dog won’t be a stranger anymore, but it’s a strange thing to imagine.

Also, putting the harness on another dog gives me pangs of guilt, as if I’m cheating on Mark. This dog has been by my side for over seven years, and we seem to communicate as though we predict each other’s every thought. How do I communicate to Mark the reasons why he has to give up the harness to a new dog?

As you can imagine, I’m a vast array of mixed emotions right now, but I will certainly be writing in with updates as the new guide dog situation unfolds. Mark will still be in the family, even if he spends some time in LA with my mom while the new dog acclimates to our New York life, and we learn to bond with each other. Man, telling all the door men, and all of Mark’s many, many fans hasn’t been easy. He will be missed. Someone wrote upon hearing this news, “Wow, Laurie without Mark is like peanut butter without jelly.” That’s how I feel too, but I suppose nutella is good with jelly too. Maybe this dog will be some other nut spread that’s worth trying.

Jenny, Cari, and I (along with all the parents and teachers who helped out with the production) saw the kids go from a bunch of individuals who barely knew their lines to a cast that came together as a team to put on a very polished production. The kids’ enthusiasm and their talents made us decide to start a summer arts program for kids on Oahu, complete with a main stage production and more intensive training including special coachings from some of our friends who have been on Broadway, television, and film. We knew we had made the right decision to do this when just before the closing performance, the cast members were going around in a circle, telling us all what they enjoyed most about their drama experience, and we heard them say things like, “You guys are like my brothers and sisters now, and I’m really going to miss you after this is all over.” One by one, the kids gave us all hugs, and with each hug, I found it very hard not to lose it. When one of the girls who I had worked with on her singing gave me one of those extra long hugs, I couldn’t hold back anymore, and the tears started rolling down my cheeks. We announced that night as the kids toasted with apple cider to a great set of performances, that we would be starting this summer program which we didn’t yet have the details for, but that we’d be delighted if they would consider participating. Parents and kids alike approached us enthusiastically and told us that they were in! So Jenny and I will be busy planning that when we get back to New York, and I’ll be sure to write in with an update.

I always love talking to young kids, because they’re like sponges, and they tend to take things in a lot better than adults who have had the misfortune of steeping in their stereotypes and misconceptions for a long time. When you talk to kids, you know that they take in everything you tell them quite literally, and you feel like you’re educating the world’s future about the acceptance and abilities of people with disabilities. I opened up the floor to questions, and was asked things like, “What kind of jobs can blind people have?”, “What do you do in a new place and you have to go to the bathroom?”, “How does your dog know when to cross the street?”, “Can a blind person have kids?”, “Will your baby be blind too?”, and then there were questions like, “What’s your dog’s favorite food?” and “Do you know my cousin? She has a dog too!” I enjoyed answering all of them, and found that many of them asked the same kinds of questions adults who are bold enough will ask me. I also took out my ipod touch and Macbook Pro, both of which came out of the box with speech software that reads everything to me on the screen, and they were fascinated. I showed them that with a little extra technology, I could do the same things they could do. I played “Party in the USA” on my ipod, which they all started singing along to, and then showed them how you can go on the Internet without using your sight. I asked them what site they wanted me to go to. One of the kids asked me to go to Youtube and play the “Charlie the Unicorn Video.” Not being the most up to speed when it comes to pop culture, I obeyed. Here’s a word of advice to those who plan to work with kids. DON’T LISTEN TO THEM!!!!!” “Charlie the Unicorn” was not about a cute little cartoon character that 3rd graders watch with their parent’s permission. It’s not exactly age appropriate, and is probably something their much older siblings talk about. Ah well, lesson learned the hard way.

When I wrapped up and was asked to give a word of advice to everyone in the room, I said, “Don’t ever let anyone tell you that you can’t do something. If you have a passion or a dream, follow it and be persistent. If I can cook, live with a significant other, and be an opera singer in one of the most intimidating cities in America as a blind person, you can do anything you set your mind to. Work hard, remember who you are, and go for it!”

The thing about Hawaii is that it’s like one big community, and family seems to take priority over career.  People are busy with Birthday parties, weddings, or just simply hanging out with family.  In fact, Jenny’s older sister who now has a family of her own comes by almost every day for at least one meal.  As I write this, Kathy, her husband Kyle, and their irresistibly adorable daughter Maya are watching “Night at the Museum” II.  It’s just that simple, and equally as rich.  So as a result of this community life style, everyone in the family lends a hand to the individual projects of other family members.  So, Jenny’s sister Cari who is directing Honk! Jr. appealed to us for our “musical expertise” and asked if we would prolong our Holiday trip here to help her with the production.  Jenny is assistant directing/stage managing, and I’ve been assigned the role of vocal coach.

I should take a moment here to brag about the talented kids I get to coach.  Cari started the drama program at this school from scratch three years ago, and since its humble beginnings, the program has gotten bigger and better, garnering the interest and support of parents and the greater community.  Though Hawaii has some community theater as well as occasional touring productions of Broadway shows that make it here from time to time, there isn’t a whole lot of familiarity with it.  So you can imagine how excited performers and audience members alike were when Cari launched the first production, a version of “The Emperor’s New Clothes.”  It was something new, a foray into a world most locals here don’t get to visit.

This year, Cari is taking the kids to a new level with quite an ambitious musical.  Honk! the Musical won an Olivier award for Best Musical in England in the late 90’s, and has witty and challenging music.  The ducklings’ loving mother is played in our production by a 7th grader who had never been in drama before, an undiscovered  talent until now.  The villain of the play who takes the form of a cat is played by a 6th grader who nails the portrayal of a sneaky, jazz singing feline.  Ugly, the out-of-place duckling, is played by a 5th grader who, I’m convinced, would be the next big thing in terms of child actors should he decide to do a bunch of auditions in LA.  There are a number of talented kids from the past two plays whose talents seem to sparkle more and more as the productions get more and more rigorous.  These are just normal kids who didn’t know a thing about theater or their own talents until Cari came into their lives.

So I get the pleasure and privilege of helping them polish their vocal performances.  Just a week ago, the kids came, one by one, to Jenny’s parents house where I taught them how to take a deep breath before so much as singing a note, to  think about their character’s place in the show and how to sing each phrase, to open the back of their throat, thus allowing their voices to open up and blossom on the high notes.  Not only is it the biggest high in the world to hear the change in their voices as they learn how to let it out properly, but it’s hearing them say in a voice suffused with happiness, “Wow, that feels so much easier!”  That in itself gives them the confidence to get over the first level of stage fright.  When they find their voices, they are halfway to discovering their own talent which we, their teachers, have seen in them from the beginning.

The 7th grader I mentioned who plays the role of the mother asked me for private lessons.  She’s a spirited girl with one of the best hearts I’ve ever seen with a set of pipes you wouldn’t believe.  I know people were wowed by Susan Boyle on Britten’s Got Talent because she was this very pedestrian woman who some people think has an amazing voice.  However, I feel what is truly amazing is to hear a normal, local girl whose father is a paper salesman and whose mother is a mail carrier open her mouth, and have a voice that will eventually rival Kelly Clarkson.  This little girl whose biggest desire is to have enough money so that her hard working parents can live comfortably with her in a big house is the kind of person you want to root for.  At first when I started teaching her (her name is Mika), the voice that came out was perfectly in tune, full of soul and the ability to scat like Whitney Houston or Biance, but  shy and breathy.  All I needed to say to her is, “Honey, you’ve got an amazing voice in there, let it out!”  Then, she began to wail something fierce, and there was Mika in proud majesty, belting her heart out, causing me to have to blink back tears.  After being speechless yesterday when she sang “The Call” by Regina Spektor, I told her, “I want to take you with me to LA so you can audition for American Idol.”  She started jumping up and down because I had told her that she was doing something right, that she had it in her.  This unassuming girl whose parents confided to Jenny that they have no idea what to do to nurture their talent of a daughter, is on her way.

People often ask me if being in Hawaii so long bores me or causes Island Fever.  They wonder how I could go from such a stimulating city like New York to a place that is so far removed from everything else.  The answer is a resounding “NO!!”  I mean, what’s the point of living in New York and having experiences performing, of seeing great theater, of becoming who you’re supposed to be if you’re not going to come to the Hawaiis of the world and share it with people who genuinely benefit from and appreciate it.  Singing all the opera in the world would be empty to me without a place to share it and give back.  You hear about the American Idols with heart wrenching stories, of the Tyler Perrys of this Country, and  I realize that Cari, Jenny and I are here giving hope to the potential future American Idols.  We’re bringing New York to a small school in Hawaii, and I’ll bet you a million  bucks that Cari’s productions could be just as good as what’s in New York if we keep having the vision, and if we keep finding that untapped talent.  I just know that Mika is going to shine on big stages one of these days if she so chooses to take her voice and her career in that direction, and I’ll be clapping loudly in the audience while I sob uncontrollably, watching her accept her Grammy.  You know what?  As far as I’m concerned, that’s why I live in New York.  That’s why I come back to Hawaii.  I teach people about what I do and show them they can do it too.