“The measure of a person, of a hero is how well they succeed at being who they are.” – Queen Frigga (Rene Russo) to son Thor (Chris Hemsworth)
“No amount of money every bought a second of time.” – Tony Stark (Robert Downey, Jr.) to father Howard Stark (John Slattery)
“You look like melted ice cream.” – Rocket Raccoon (Bradley Cooper) to Thor (Hemsworth again) who has discovered a physique-obliterating love of beer, junk food, video games, and sweatpants
Marvel’s Avengers movies are, yes, about superheroes and, by extension, merchandise, theme park attractions, and an infinitely extendable money-minting film franchise. But they are about something else … and always have been: family. Finding one’s family in the most unlikeliest of places and forging new bonds (Avengers, Guardians of the Galaxy, Thor), rediscovering and healing one’s fragmentation with the past (Black Panther, IronMan, CaptainAmerica), or redefining one’s destiny and defying the limitations others’ have unfairly or unintentionally imposed (Doctor Strange,Spider-Man, Ant-Man) are all themes that have defined this groundbreaking film series.
[Image Source: Wikipedia]
I would suggest that is why last year’s Infinity War with its (one-year-later spoiler alert!) decimation of nearly half the beloved team struck such a chord (and blow) with the general movie-going public. We comic nerds (and anyone who paid half a millisecond of attention to box office returns or awards season nominations) realized there was no earthly way a character like Black Panther (Chadwick Boseman) was going to remain “dead.” Nonetheless, we were gutted to see newly arrived fan favorites like Dr. Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) or Spider-Man (Tom Holland) erode as pillars of collapsing ash, Sodom and Gomorrah-style, after “Mad Titan” Thanos (beautifully glowering Josh Brolin) snapped his fingers (literally), worked his “Infinity Gauntlet” mojo, and made 50% of all living creatures disappear from the universe. You see, Thanos has an unusual solution for chaos theory and overpopulation: get rid of half of us, re-instituting balance in a world run amuck. I suppose there are worse ideas.
[Image Source: Wikipedia]
Last year, we viewers were left with the mother of all cliffhangers, and, while Marvel Studios’ unyielding production schedule pretty much spoiled the surprise that the surviving Avengers would find a means to bring their missing brethren back, we didn’t know how and, perhaps more importantly, we didn’t know what this dissolution would do to the Marvel family.
[Image Source: Wikipedia]
I won’t reveal the plot of this year’s $1.2 billion (and counting) juggernaut Endgame. To be honest, even if I wanted to detail the 3-hour narrative here, I’m not sure I could unravel the plateful of spaghetti that relies as much on the 21 (!) movies that precede it as it does some rudimentary knowledge of quantum mechanics, bad time travel flicks, and somberly-crafted peanut butter sandwiches.
[Image Source: Wikipedia]
And, in the end, it doesn’t much matter. The movie is a marvel (pun intended) because directors the Russo Brothers (no relation to Rene … that I’m aware) are smart enough to pepper the proceedings with brilliant action sequences yet ground the entirety in humanity, heart, and deft character development.
The running time of Endgame never feels gratuitous (other entries in the Marvel franchise have felt overlong and indulgent occasionally). This much airtime is in fact essential to re-engage with our core heroes: Iron Man (Downey, Jr. who started it all with his character’s eponymous debut), Captain America (Chris Evans, long the heart and soul of the series), Thor (Hemsworth who has evolved from pretty dull to pretty comic dynamite), Hulk (Mark Ruffalo, by far the best actor in the bunch who always makes every other performer just that much better in their scenes with him), Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson, who, like Hemsworth, found much surer footing as the series proceeded), and Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner, more often than not a cipher who truly comes into his own in this latest installment).
No one is given short-shrift here, with emotionally weighty, at times devastatingly heartfelt, denouement(s) that honor all that has come before and set the entire franchise on an exciting and uncharted path. It’s not all doom and gloom as there is plenty of self-referential/self-deprecating wit, with Captain America himself setting off some of the best zingers in the bunch. The whole enterprise is sweet-natured, entertaining-as-heck, genuinely humorous, and damn moving. Trust me, you will be sniffling throughout the last 20 minutes and downright sobbing at the very final scene.
[Image Source: Wikipedia]
Possibly for the first time ever, it feels like we can expect nothing but the unexpected from Marvel films going forward. It’s a genius move. For over a decade, Marvel Studios president and executive producer Kevin Feige has teased us with his “phased” master plan, all leading up to these final films. All of Hollywood became covetous of Marvel’s “shared cinematic universe” (less artistic envy, I suspect, than material greed … but c’est la vie). (See: DC Extended Universe, Universal’s Monsters Universe … no, better yet, don’t.) We are at Endgame, and, effectively, Feige and Marvel have thrown the baby out with the bathwater, sun-setting beloved canon while simultaneously thumbing their nose at it. The sky’s the limit, so empty your wallets, moviegoers: who knows what’s next?
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[Image Source: Wikipedia]
Reel Roy Reviews is now TWO books! You can purchase your copies by clicking here (print and digital).
When the entire universe seems to loooooooove some performer or movie or show or play. And I mean in that show-offy, fawning, “you MUST see … you mean you HAVEN’T seen?!,” clutch the pearls kind of way? I make up my mind that I’m 110% certain I WON’T like it. And I won’t try it. Nope. Not never.
It’s a pretty stupid and annoying personality trait for me to have, TBH.
Thank heavens we have friends like Rob Zannini and Aaron Latham to kick me in the pants (and buy tickets) when I’m being a stubborn idiot.
This brings us to Hamilton, the national tour of which ended its month-long residency in Detroit yesterday (Easter Sunday) at the Fisher Theatre.
You certainly don’t need my validation to tell you the show is well worth the hype. Just ask the American Theatre Wing. Or the Grammy organization. Or the Pulitzer committee. Or that bragging neighbor/coworker/friend who saw it in New York four years ago (and has seen it six more times already).
Sigh. They are ALL spot on.
The show is a brilliant, clever, pointed, sassy, dare I say, frothy overview of the life of spiky, complex, groundbreaking Founding Father Alexander Hamilton (!). And nary a dancing cat or crashing chandelier in sight. “I’d rather be divisive than indecisive,” Hamilton observes at one point. Amen, brother. And, damn, do we need some of that informed moxie in our politicians now (more than ever).
Based on the 2004 biography that turned our collective view of America’s birth on its head, Hamilton gives us a warts-and-all review of the “young, scrappy, and hungry” Hamilton and colleagues like Washington, Jefferson, Madison, Burr. Classic musical 1776 also has great fun with the challenges (and infighting) at the beginning of our nation’s great democratic experiment. But Hamilton is less decorous and revels in the raw and ugly street fighting at play. And makes it all seem fun.
Imagine the Revolutionary War staged by West Side Story-era Jerome Robbins, but with the technical wizardry (and turntable) of Cameron Mackintosh’s Les Miserables and a musical score by Stephen Sondheim, Eminem, Kander & Ebb, the Brill Building songwriters, Beyoncé and Jay-Z. Oh, why not throw in a touch of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s and Tim Rice’s Jesus Christ Superstar for good measure. Creator/wunderkind Lin Manuel Miranda wears his influences proudly on his sleeve, openly referencing Broadway’s vibrant history lyrically, musically, visually.
It doesn’t get much more American than that.
Add in color-blind casting and a steampunk approach to costuming and set design, not to mention evocative, lithe choreography (nary a gymnastic tumble to be seen … thank God), and you have a three hour spectacle that never bores for a second and zips by in a flash.
(I would recommend scanning the show’s Wikipedia entry before viewing, if, like me, your memory of American history from your high school coursework is far away in the rear view mirror.)
The first act takes us through the Battle of Yorktown; the second addresses the much messier work of building a new nation, and the spiraling life of a man (Hamilton) who gave far too much to his work and far too little to those who loved him.
Our cast (below) included understudies Tre Frazier and Wonza Johnson in the pivotal Jesus/Judas roles of Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr respectively. They were phenomenal, bringing nuance, empathy, heart, and fire to their depictions.
Other standouts were the commanding and wry Paul Oakley Stovall as George Washington (we had the pleasure to meet this gracious actor and his lovely family after the show – learn more about him here); luminous Stephanie Umoh as Angelica Schuyler; impish and adorable Bryson Bruce as Marquis de Lafayette and Thomas Jefferson; riotous and effete Peter Matthew Smith as the Elton John-esque King George; and heartbreaking Hannah Cruz as Hamilton’s long-suffering yet stoic wife Eliza. Cruz brings down the house with her turn in the second act, wronged repeatedly by Hamilton’s high-minded, myopic ways. If you aren’t a puddle when she “removes herself from his narrative,” you ain’t human.
Hamilton repeatedly asks the audience to consider “who tells YOUR story?” All I can say is that if someone decides to do a show about my life (cue laughter now), I sure as hell hope Lin Manuel Miranda is still around to write it.
P.S. We ended our day with an astounding dinner at Lady of the House, a Beard Award-nominated restaurant in Detroit’s historic Corktown district. OMG. I’m no “foodie” (reference the sentiments of my opening paragraph above), but this place (veg friendly BTW) is to die for. Our server eventually became accustomed to (possibly amused by?) my plebeian ways. She wanted to “sequence” our “courses” of innumerable shared plates. I wanted a grilled cheese.
Perhaps inspired by the political wrangling in Hamilton, we found our common ground (though I never got that grilled cheese). Nonetheless everything we consumed was out of this world, with locally sourced flavor combinations to knock your socks off. Run don’t walk to this fab, shabby chic establishment. And be prepared to pay a pretty penny. It ain’t cheap, but like the pricey Hamilton, well worth the outlay.
Thank you, Rob and Aaron and our pal Rachel Green for an incredible, enriching Easter in Detroit!
Reel Roy Reviews is now TWO books! You can purchase your copies by clicking here (print and digital). In addition to online ordering at Amazon or from the publisher Open Books, the first book is currently is being carried by Bookbound, Common Language Bookstore, and Crazy Wisdom Bookstore and Tea Room in Ann Arbor, Michigan and by Green Brain Comics in Dearborn, Michigan. My mom Susie Duncan Sexton’s Secrets of an Old Typewriter series is also available on Amazon and at Bookbound and Common Language.
…this year, I perceived a seismic shift in Atlanta.
If there is one thing you can count on following the Legal Marketing Association’s annual conference, it is a sparkling flood of think pieces, inspired by a collective gathering of the best and brightest our industry has to offer.
Sometimes, I fear my own conference reminiscences bear the uncanny resemblance to “what I learned on my summer vacation” essays written in grade school days. So be it, as these annual sojourns are among the most energizing three days legal marketers spend each year. A “listen to me, please” summer camp for sharp, creative souls who may spend the other 362 days a year talking lawyers out of sponsoring church basement banquets and holiday baked good distributions.
But this year, I perceived a seismic shift in Atlanta.
I felt like we’d been heard. Solidly. This year, post-conference, I no longer had the urge to complain about being dubbed a “non-attorney.” Nor did I want to tap dance urgently to justify the need for social media in legal.
Perhaps, it’s been this way all along, but this year it seemed like we finally arrived. This year, our capstone session / general counsel panel – rife as always with old saws of “give me value, not trinkets” and “don’t take me to a football game, make my job easier” – added something new: “I don’t just want to talk to your attorneys. I want to talk to YOU. You, legal marketers, with your data, and your insight. YOU … you get my business. Now, can I go home to my kids, please?”
Others have captured the details of the panel, far better than I (here and here). I walked away with sense memory. And a feeling of professional pride, one which, yes, LMA has always engendered, but which arrived this time with no apology nor rationalization.
Yes, true culture change remains mired in what sometimes feels like “death by a thousand cuts” miasma. That’s corporate life. Yet, we left LMA this year with as recognizable a mandate as I’ve heard. As one GC intoned, gesturing to the assembled marketing pros, “I predict this room will double in size in five years.”
That said, here is my obligatory “book report” on what I learned – and what inspired me – at #LMA19:
– We are in an industry in need of radical transformation.
The large consulting firms and other alternative legal service providers will avail themselves of any client frustrations over pricing, transparency, access, and responsiveness to shift clients away from traditional legal services to integrated consultancies. We must pitch as a team with predictable pricing models and measurable outcomes.
–GCs are not interested in being entertained.
They want value add, user-friendly analysis and advice. They get plenty of client alerts. They want insight and anticipation and, chiefly, an understanding of their business priorities. The data is available and apparent. The law firm that will win their business doesn’t invest in tickets or gifts or parties but in actionable intelligence that helps them achieve their business objectives. Do not speak in “if/then” statements.
– The conversation is increasingly occurring online.
Create a digital footprint that is accessible and speaks in the language of the purchaser, not the purchased. Attorney profiles should show expertise and humanity. Furthermore, those purchasing legal services are looking for diversity and representation. They want to see themselves in their legal providers.
–Law school grads are increasingly going in-house for work-life balance.
Money is not their sole draw. With that in mind, these individuals will be making more of the hiring decisions. On average, it costs a company $174/hour for in-house legal counsel. They are also continuing to develop AI solutions. GC is tasked as much with controlling costs as ensuring positive outcomes for their organizations. Transparency of pricing and differentiation of value for increased outsourced cost is essential in order to land business.
So, there you are. My annual tithing to the gods of legal marketing in gratitude for three days that fill my intellectual and emotional coffers for the rest of the year. We legal marketers work hard, play hard, care hard. This year’s GC panel felt like a long-overdue external recognition of that.
It’s nice to have someone else write your “book report” for once.
P.S. I’ve got the best mom. Susie Sexton. Don’t be jealous. Hoppy #Easter!
Reel Roy Reviews is now TWO books! You can purchase your copies by clicking here (print and digital). In addition to online ordering at Amazon or from the publisher Open Books, the first book is currently is being carried by Bookbound, Common Language Bookstore, and Crazy Wisdom Bookstore and Tea Room in Ann Arbor, Michigan and by Green Brain Comics in Dearborn, Michigan. My mom Susie Duncan Sexton’s Secrets of an Old Typewriter series is also available on Amazon and at Bookbound and Common Language.
The entirety of the superhero film genre deals with issues of identity and family and belonging. The best entries – Superman, Dick Tracy, Iron Man, The Dark Knight, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Guardians of the Galaxy, Spider-Man: Homecoming, Wonder Woman, Thor: Ragnarok, Black Panther, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse – transport us to escapist realms while metaphorically helping reconcile the harsh reality of our daily lives vs. our wish fulfillment fantasy to champion all underdogs and right all wrongs. This disconnect between the inner child who still feels all things are possible and the jaded adult who fears the best of life has passed one by keeps us spinning the wheel at the superhero box office in the hopes of finding our ultimate champion on the silver screen.
And Shazam! comes pretty damn close.
[Image Source: Wikipedia]
Based on the classic Fawcett Comics character Captain Marvel, Shazam was acquired by DC Comics in a copyright dispute in the 1950s over the character’s (overstated) similarities to Superman. DC, ironically in turn, lost the rights to use the name (but not the character) “Captain Marvel” to Marvel Comics in the 1970s, and Marvel’s version of “Captain Marvel” had her cinematic debut one month ago. Consequently, DC’s “Captain Marvel” now goes by “Shazam,” which in actuality is the magic word young Billy Batson exclaims to become “The Big Red Cheese” Captain Marvel (but we can’t actually call him “Captain Marvel” any more). Clear as mud? Thanks a lot, intellectual property laws. (It’s all explained much better and in much more detail here.)
None of this matters one whit to your ultimate enjoyment of David F. Sandberg’s film treatment of Shazam (which was also a corny Saturday morning Filmation live action series in the 1970s and a Republic serial in the 1940s). For the casual film-goer, the more relevant comparison is to Tom Hanks’ classic comedy Big as a wish fulfillment fantasy of a little boy lost who assumes adulthood (and superpowers) will solve all his real-life problems (spoiler alert: they don’t). Shazam even offers an onscreen nod to Big’s FAO Schwartz super-sized floor piano keyboard duet.
[Image Source: Wikipedia]
Asher Angel (think young Zac Efron, but a bit less precious) plays foster kid Billy Batson, ever on the hunt for the birth mother he lost years ago at a winter carnival and who mysteriously never reclaimed her son. Batson bounces from group home to group home until he lands at the beautifully blended foster home of Rosa and Victor Vasquez (warm and earthy Marta Milans and Cooper Andrews). Overeager and lonely foster brother Freddy Freeman (It‘s Jack Dylan Grazer in a dynamite and heartbreaking turn) introduces Billy to the nerdy joys of super hero trivia, and, before we know it, flash-bam-boom!, Billy finds himself one subway stop away from the magical “Rock of Eternity,” imbued with magical abilities by an ancient wizard (an almost unrecognizable Djimon Hounsou).
[Image Source: Wikipedia]
When Billy shouts “Shazam!” (acronym of Solomon, Hercules, Atlas, Zeus, Achilles, and Mercury and the respective abilities of each), the young boy transforms into 6’3″ Zachary Levi (Chuck, Tangled, She Loves Me) whose sitcom/musical comedy ethos paired with a physique that now seems to have muscles-on-top-of-muscles makes him the perfect choice for this whimsical hero.
The film is saddled, as are most comic book adaptations alas, with a “take over the world” megalomaniac antagonist. This time, Mark Strong plays Dr. Sivana, and, in his typical glowering skinny/tall-British-Stanley-Tucci-with-dodgy-dental-work-way, Strong meanders about the film, saying vaguely apocalyptic things and shooting energy bolts from his hands. He’s completely unnecessary.
[Image Source: Wikipedia]
Thematically, Strong’s primary contribution seems to be to further the film’s exploration of family lost and family gained. Sivana’s father is a Lex Luthor-esque SOB, played by the go-to actor for Lex-Luthor-esque SOBs John Glover (Gremlins 2, Smallville … where, in fact, he played Lex Luthor’s dad) whose brutal parenting style predictably turns his little lad into a grade-A psychopath.
[Image Source: Wikipedia]
Shazam! works best when the film turns its gaze toward the adorable band of misfits in Billy’s foster home. The child actors are loving, lovable, believable, and kind. The challenges Billy endures embracing his new home and relinquishing his dream of reuniting with his birth mother are poignant and accessible and juxtapose nicely with the comic farce of him learning to be a proper super hero. Levi is an utter delight playing a 14-year-old boy in an (overgrown) man’s body, attempting superheroics when all he really wants to do is gobble junk food and play video games. At one point, Batson in his superhero persona observes, “If a superhero can’t save his family, he’s not much of a hero after all.” Amen to that. Amen to that.
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Thanks to my boss Susan and coworker Megan for this! #wishfulfillment
Reel Roy Reviews is now TWO books! You can purchase your copies by clicking here (print and digital). In addition to online ordering at Amazon or from the publisher Open Books, the first book is currently is being carried by Bookbound, Common Language Bookstore, and Crazy Wisdom Bookstore and Tea Room in Ann Arbor, Michigan and by Green Brain Comics in Dearborn, Michigan. My mom Susie Duncan Sexton’s Secrets of an Old Typewriter series is also available on Amazon and at Bookbound and Common Language.
“Oh, I went to the emergency room last night. They took me from the veterinarian’s in an ambulance. The EMS boy looked like Aquaman.” – Susie Duncan Sexton
Wait. What?! So began a phone call with my mother about a month ago. To clarify a few things: no, she does not receive her health care AT the veterinarian BUT got light-headed while she was there and, then … nearly passed out. And, no, Jason Momoa is not moonlighting for Whitley County EMS, but my mom is threatening to call 911 again, just so she can hang with the young man who apparently bears a striking resemblance to Game of Thrones’ Khal Drogo.
My mom has gone through a battery of tests over the past month, and the good news is that her exuberance for life and her candor and her irreverence have apparently served her well physically in that an army of doctors have found no issues of concern. As my mother notes, “I don’t want to go into that medical world if I don’t have to.” Who can blame her? I do wish she wouldn’t have such a propensity to read and believe all of the side effects listed on any and all medications, but, hell, that wariness has likely served her quite well in this pharmacologically reckless culture.
What my mother has learned from this experience is that when others don’t listen or behave like outright jackholes, it can cause her to experience justified exasperation to the point of plummeting-elevator-wooziness. I think too many of us are still trying to learnthat lesson.
“At 46, I’m coming to the realization that I want life to be less about ‘stuff.’ I’ve had so much fun collecting and gathering and accumulating, but now it all just feels like a weight around my neck.” – Roy Sexton
Two weekends ago, I went to visit my parents. After her chance encounter with a hunky Momoa-look-alike, life flashed before my mother’s eyes, and she wanted to call a family meeting to discuss our “plan.” Note: we are NOT a “family meeting” kind of family, and we might have “plans” but for some reason we don’t actually share them. We are more of a “something unanticipated just happened so let’s light our hair on fire” kind of family. My mother has always been the one who says the things that need to be said but aren’t always heard. This time, it felt like my father and I stopped being idiots long enough to listen. I was cautiously optimistic that we might talk about what the future could hold. And, then …
“I’m getting up at 10 am tomorrow to take the LaCrosse in to trade for an Impala.” – Don Sexton
Unclear if that was invitation for me to assist in the car-buying process or not, but I volunteered to tagalong on a task that has pretty much eluded me my entire adult life. I inherited a hand-me-down Buick Century from my grandmother when I was in college. My parents were kind enough to buy me a Honda Civic when I was in graduate school. Then, I was wise enough to marry an automotive engineer, and I never set foot in an auto dealership again.
My father used to call on auto dealers across northern Indiana in the late 80s when he was a lending officer for Merchants National Bank. He knows a thing or two about this world; the finer points of operating an iPad may befuddle him but he knows his Carfax from his Kelley Blue Book. Nonetheless, the game of buying a car remains one rife with swaggering toxic masculinity.
“I’m sorry. With whom am I negotiating on this? You or your dad or John,” whined the auto salesman as I handed him my cell phone and asked him to work everything out with an auto engineer stationed at his home computer in Ann Arbor, Michigan.
My father and I both gestured toward the phone and then promptly closed our traps. The best way to cut through toxic masculinity? Introduce a well-informed curve ball who doesn’t cotton to preening peacocks. We walked out of there with a gently used Ford Fusion at a third of the expected price, paid in cash, leaving behind a small army of Dockers-wearing salesmen scratching their heads.
“Good. I’m glad John got involved. He reminds me of me. When he gets to talk about what he loves, he’s unstoppable.” – Susie Sexton, upon our return.
You see, all along, my mom had suggested their ancient Buick LaCrosse needed a retirement. My mom is the one saying, “Can we slow down and just take care of the things we love before time is completely gone?” My mom is the one urging people to live their best lives and to enjoy the moments they are in. My mom is the one asking for authentic conversation that isn’t transmitted via digital device in tweets, texts, and cynical memes.
KNOCK! KNOCK! “We’re at the door here for breakfast and swimming and to tell you our plan.” – my parents at my hotel room door the last morning of my weekend visit. (I may have asked for them to call before heading over … that didn’t happen.)
At some point in the past couple of years, my parents and I transitioned to that mid-stage milestone of the child (gleefully) staying at a hotel when he/she comes to visit said parents. It’s not meant to be rude or controlling, but as one ages, as one becomes set in their ways, as one’s midsection grows more pear-shaped … the idea of retreating to a hotel room, collapsing in a heap, and breathing solitary air at the end of a day’s family visit carries a touch of appeal.
And my parents get to come use the pool like two 12-year-olds who’ve just run away from home.
Here’s the thing: those two 12-year-olds who these days spend as much time plotting each other’s demise as they do reflecting wistfully on their 50 (!) years of wedded “bliss,” came bounding into my room, speaking a mile a minute, finishing each other’s sentences, sharing their “plan” with me. I was half awake and a little cranky, but their zeal was a tonic.
And that plan? It’s a pretty good one. It’s not for me to tell, but I feel good about the future. Possibly for the first time ever. You see, I have a vision of the fun we will have, reminiscent of those special days I lived at home and had nary a care in the world, other than what cartoons were airing on Saturday morning or passing an algebra test. And that vision is shared. That makes all the difference.
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It was quite an honor to offer the keynote address alongside ProfessionalMovers.com’s spectacular Andrew Androff at last week’s Sterling Heights Regional Chamber of Commerce/Goldman Sachs 10,000 Small Businesses Sales & Marketing Conference. Video of my presentation “How to Win the Room (When You’d Rather Stay Home)” courtesy the lovely Brenda Meller of Meller Marketing: https://youtu.be/xnvDZFDYGI8
I adore Brenda whose kindness and generosity know no bounds. She authentically cares and celebrates. That is a rare quality. And thanks to the equally loving and supportive Heather Morse-Geller who got this ball rolling with a lovely post last year and to my sweet friend Blaine D. Fowler for reading it aloud at this very conference (same day it was posted, in fact, when HE gave the keynote).
Thank you, Melanie Hughes Davis and Sterling Heights Regional Chamber of Commerce for this fantastic opportunity. #BeARoySexton😊❤️
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Reel Roy Reviews is now TWO books! You can purchase your copies by clicking here (print and digital). In addition to online ordering at Amazon or from the publisher Open Books, the first book is currently is being carried by Bookbound, Common Language Bookstore, and Crazy Wisdom Bookstore and Tea Room in Ann Arbor, Michigan and by Green Brain Comics in Dearborn, Michigan. My mom Susie Duncan Sexton’s Secrets of an Old Typewriter series is also available on Amazon and at Bookbound and Common Language.
Reel Roy Reviews is now TWO books! You can purchase your copies by clicking 
Reel Roy Reviews 