I recently competed in the humorous speech contest in my Toastmasters Club and Area. I’ll be competing at the next level, the Division contest, next month. I’m already a winner because each contest is an opportunity to improve my speech! The humorous speech is a thematic (open, body, close) 5-7 minute speech (not a monologue or series of one-liners). Below is the current version of my speech (and I’m open to suggestions, although I have to be careful not to go overtime). I’ve left in some “staging” notes.
The Best Plan Ever
Call me weird, but I’ve always been fascinated by natural disasters.
My favorite movie as a kid was a disaster movie… The Wizard of Oz. Hey, there was a tornado!
Turns out, I didn’t need a tornado to land in strange places. I’ve lived through disasters in three states: California, Minnesota, and Texas.
In California, the natural disaster of choice was… earthquakes. I couldn’t wait to experience my first one! I was ready for the shaking, the adrenaline, the full Hollywood disaster movie experience.
And then… I missed it.
I had just arrived at my Toastmasters club, and everyone was buzzing about the earthquake that had just happened. I had been driving and felt nothing! It was like missing the one party where everything happened—‘Oh, you had to be there!’
My second earthquake? I almost slept through it. At first, I thought it was just my husband snoring…
I woke up to a deep rumbling. I jumped out of bed and ran to the balcony . . . BOOM—the shaking started. Some people run to a doorway, some hide under a table… me? I thought, Wow! Front row seats! (beat, deadpan) Best Plan Ever!
(beat, deadpan) Popcorn would have been nice.
But did we have an emergency popcorn supply? No. Our idea of survival gear? A water bottle and a sweatshirt.
Then, we moved to Minnesota.
No earthquakes—just blizzards and tornados. Because apparently, Mother Nature thought, “Well, if I can’t shake them, I’ll freeze them solid or fling them into the next county!”
Blizzards used to bring back fond childhood memories—snow forts, snowmen, and best of all… SNOW DAYS!
As an adult? Snow meant shoveling, frostbite, and reevaluating my life choices. (Beat) “Do I really need groceries? Or can I survive on peanut butter and . . . regret?”
Regret only gets you so far—about three shovels in. Then you look up, realize you have a really long driveway… and know it’s time to make a plan.
So, I devised the ‘Strategic Neighbor Snow Removal Plan.’
- Step 1: Watch. Watch for the neighbor to start snow-blowing his driveway.
- Step 2: Wait. Wait until he was about two-thirds done
- Step 3: Deploy teenagers with shovels.
(Beat) “Nine times out of ten, my neighbor would just keep going and finish our driveway too. (Smug nod, slight pause) Best Plan Ever!
Then there were Tornados. Tornados were always exciting—especially the time my husband and I were out to eat, and I got a call from my daughter.
Daughter: “Mom, there’s a tornado in town!”
Me: “Well, go to the basement!”
Daughter: “OK… We’re sitting on the roof watching it.”
(Beat, shaking head) …Watching it. (Pause, deadpan) “Yeah… Best Plan Ever.”
I pictured them spiraling up—landing 20 miles away in a cornfield… still on their phones.
(Beat) And probably texting me: “Mom, can you come get us?”(Pause)
Some parents worry about their kids sneaking out . . . Mine tried to ride a tornado.
That’s when we realized… maybe we should be better parents. (Beat) Or at least be better prepared for disasters.
So, my husband proudly bought a two-month supply of dried food.
Food might be overstating it.
It was labeled ‘Emergency Food Rations’—which is accurate because eating it truly felt like an emergency. (Beat, sarcastic) Best Plan Ever.
In September 2023, we moved to Texas—where the temperature was roughly equivalent to the surface of the sun.
To escape the heat, we had the perfect plan—an Alaskan cruise in early summer 2024. Cool breezes. Breathtaking glaciers. Mild weather.
And then we came home to:
- No power.
- No AC.
- And Houston turning into an outdoor sauna.
Why? One little natural disaster… Hurricane Beryl.
We had a small gas-powered generator, which was great—if we wanted to power exactly one fan and a single light bulb.
Meanwhile, my neighbors’ whole-house generators hummed along, running their AC, their lights, their refrigerators… probably a margarita machine.
Ours? It wheezed like a dying animal.
No AC, no relief… just me, staring at an emergency food ration, thinking, . . .‘This is how it ends.’
So, we decided to get one of those whole-house generators, too.
But now? NOW, I am fully prepared for any disaster.
- Earthquakes, Blizzards, Tornadoes, Hurricanes . . . wait, what’s that?
(Beat) A Texas-sized heatwave?!
(pause)
Time to book another cruise. Truly . . . (Gesture to Audience to respond) the Best Plan Ever. Madam Toastmaster . . .