Host: Dan Kennedy

Dan: [00:00:01] Welcome to The Moth Podcast. I'm Dan Kennedy. And this week's episode marks a very special occasion. It's our 500th episode of The Moth Podcast. And to celebrate, we're going to go back and replay some of our favorite stories from throughout the years that we've dug out of The Moth archive here in New York. 

And on top of that, I have two very special guests here in the tiny Moth Podcast studio. With me in is Catherine Burns, The Moth's artistic director. 

Catherine: [00:00:29] Hey Dan. 

Dan: [00:00:30] And also, Moth founder, the man who started all of this, George Dawes Green. 

George: [00:00:34] Good morning, Dan- 

Dan: [00:00:36] How are you? [chuckles] 

George: [00:00:36] -Catherine. [Catherine chuckles] 

Dan: [00:00:37] It's early for George.

Catherine: [00:00:38] Yes. [chuckles] 

George: [00:00:38] It's very early for me. This is a very, very tiny little closet of a studio- [Catherine chuckles] 

Dan: [00:00:44] It is.

George: [00:00:45] -crammed into. 

Dan: [00:00:46] Yes, it was a supply closet. And now that we've crammed ourselves into a tiny supply closet, let's hear a really great story from one of our favorites, Shannon Cason. He told this at a Moth Mainstage that we did in Kalamazoo, where theme of the night was Between Worlds. 

Catherine: [00:01:04] It's worth noting that we know Shannon actually from the SLAMs in Detroit and Chicago. He walked into one of our open-mic StorySLAMs. We got to know him and now we basically tried to put him in every show, either as a host or storyteller. God bless him. [laughs] 

Dan: [00:01:17] He's great. Here's Shannon Cason, live at The Moth. 

[applause] 

Shannon: [00:01:23] When I was young, I loved playing fun and games. We would flip quarters at the lunch table in high school in Detroit or pitch them off the wall. Whoever got closest won. When I went to college at Michigan State University,- [audience cheers and applause] -we would shoot craps in one of my friends’ dorm rooms. [audience chuckles] There'd be a bunch of us guys, most of us from Detroit, all in that little room, talking stuff, smoking, drinking, bringing the hood to Michigan State University. [audience laughter] He had this little portable pool table that was perfect for shooting craps. Guys had to have a style to their dice roll. It was like a signature, you know, guys listening to them, blowing on them, doing a little dance or whatever. Me, I'm always simple and understated. Just click, clack, roll, snap. I loved it. 

I was a decent student. Loved basketball and hip hop. Gambling was my little secret. I remember once over summer vacation, I lost all my summer job money going to the Windsor Casino, because you could go under 21. I'd be 19 years old at the blackjack table with these grandparents. [audience chuckles] When my mom asked what happened to all my money that summer, I lied and told her I spent it hanging out with my friends. I felt bad for losing my money and I felt worse for lying to my mama. I'm a mama's boy. Lying to my mom, that's not fun. 

Then I started gambling all the time. This is especially when Detroit built all those casinos. All these beautiful casinos with bright lights, smack dab in the middle of Detroit. Detroit was sure to become a top tourist city of the Midwest. [audience chuckles] It was the Vegas of the Midwest. Not quite, huh? 

So, I graduated from college and I'm working at a bank. It's one of these grocery store banks in Farmer Jack. I manage it. And as a manager, the dress code was you had to wear a suit and tie. The tellers wore polo shirts. I love wearing the suit and tie. Professional. I'm a professional. By that time, gambling had my checking account overdrawn. I was living with my sister. I was eating ramen noodles on a regular basis. When I didn't have money, I had to comp, so I had more comps than cash, I eat at the casino. 

At work, we had 20,000 in 20s in the vault to refill the ATM. We kept 30,000 inn 100s for the customer's checks on Friday. It was Tuesday, and I started thinking, we never did-- The tellers, we weren't a busy branch. The tellers didn't have to buy money from the bank all the time, I mean, from the vault all the time. We didn't do the dual vault control, because everybody just trusted everybody. It was Tuesday, and a thought just dropped into my head. I could take a little money, borrow it, so I can play a little bit. Tired of eating noodles. I could just borrow a little, hit a lick, win a little, put it back the next day. It was just a harmless thought. 

I took the whole $50,000. [audience laughter] $50,000 won't fit in your pants pocket. [audience laughter] I know. I tried it. [audience laughter] So, I got $10,000 here, $10,000 here. I even got a sexy bulge in my underwear. [audience laughter] I tell the tellers, “I'm going to lunch.” I go to the MotorCity Casino. It's a short drive from where I work. They used to go there for lunch all the time. When I didn't have money, I had comps for the buffet. But this time, I have money. A lot of it. $50,000 stuffed in every pocket, even in my underwear. 

I sit down at the blackjack table. I buy in for 10,000 in 20s. It takes them a little time to count 10,000 in 20s. It brings a small crowd, which I don't care for. I like to be invisible, understated. And then, the people who gather around you to watch, they just lost their money. That's why they got time to sit there and watch you play. They don't want to see me win. They just want to see somebody stupider than them. [audience laughter] But I'm winning. Doubling 21, splitting aces, blackjack, blackjack. I'm winning. 

The plan is, if you win, leave. But you feel invincible with $10,000 in your underwear. [audience laughter] So, I start getting cocky and losing and losing. And then, the $10,000 is gone. The crowd, they act sad, but you know, they feel better about themselves. They just want to see a train wreck. I pull out another $10,000. I'm chasing. I burned through that $10,000 fast. I get up from the table, and the crowd is acting sad and I'm thinking, I got to get away from these losers. Losing is contagious. I'm going to go up to the high roller room on the top floor. I'm feeling bad, but my pocket's still $30,000 heavy, I just got to brush this off, change my game up, change my strategy. “Backer, I sit the whole $30,000 on the table.”

It takes him a while to count that much. Brings out some guys who have to wear suits like me. I do good. I'm doing good. I won close to the $50,000 back. Then I get a call from work. I let it go to voicemail. It wasn't till I got that call that I realized what I had done. I just took $50,000 from my job to go to the casino at lunchtime. I was just caught up in the moment. This wasn't real, but it was real. That call meant I could be in some serious trouble. I just want to get this money back. I'm in a hurry. I'm thinking I put the biggest bet I had played up. I don't know why so much. 20 grand. I just want to get out of here. If I win this bet, I can get out of here. The dealer deals the cars. 

I'm back down to $30,000, then to $20,000, then to $10,000. I noticed there's this old man staring at me from one of the other tables, shaking his head. I just remember that old dude shaking his head at me. I get up with a few chips. I know I can't win $50,000 back with these two orange chips in my hand. I walk out through the lights, the sounds, the people, the smoke, and out the door to fresher air. I listened to the voicemail. Ain't want nothing. It was like one of the tellers wanted me to bring her back some. I don't go back to work. I mean, why? I just drive around Detroit until it's late. Drive down Woodward, down through Cass Corridor. There's this school that's being torn down, kind of how I felt torn down. 

Being real with you, it’s like this. In Detroit, a lot of my childhood friends serve time, serving time or worse. But that was never for me. I went to college. I wear a suit every day to work. I'm a professional. Yeah, I like to gamble, but it's just for fun. You know, this wasn't supposed to happen. Eventually, I called my job and I remember-- They know by now that the money is missing. I remember I'm talking to the regional president, and he says something surprising. He says, “Shannon, don't do anything stupid. It's only money. It's not the end of the world.” You don't know how much I appreciate that guy for saying that. I don't even remember his name. I called my mom, I called my sister, this girl I was dating. 

I get a hotel room by the mall with that leftover money I had. I invite everybody to come visit me, my mom, my sister, the girl I was dating. I go to the mall and I get some ruby jewelry, like a necklace for my mom. Kay Jewelers had a sale on rubies. This was in July. [audience chuckles] I'm thinking I'm going to be gone for a long time. This is something for her to remember me by. When they show up, I sit everybody down, and I do this little intervention on myself, [audience chuckles] and give my mom the ruby necklace and tell her what happened. She doesn't accept the ruby necklace, of course. My mom says that I should be ashamed of myself and that I was raised better than that. 

You don't know how much that hurt I heard my mom, telling me something like that, which is true. It could have went a lot worse than what it did. One day in jail, five years’ probation. The bank didn't want to destroy me. That regional manager might have had a part in that. My family supported me. I got married. It's been hard, but I paid it back. I wish I could say the threat of jail, pain my mother felt, the normalcy of a wife and a baby changed me, and everything became happy. Wish I could say that. This is life, and it's not all fun and games. Started going to the meetings. And the lady at the meeting said, “Addiction is insidious.” I'm being real with you. I had to look it up. [audience laughter] I looked it up. Yeah, insidious. That's a good word. 

[cheers and applause] 

Dan: [00:13:48] That was Shannon Cason. Shannon is a husband, father and is originally from Detroit. He's also a host, educator, Mainstage storyteller and GrandSLAM champion with The Moth. Shannon hosts his own storytelling podcast with WBEZ in Chicago, and it's called Shannon Cason's Homemade Stories. He's also the chief educator for the Brutally Honest Storytelling workshop series. Find out more at shannoncason.com. And to see a picture of Shannon at the time this story takes place, just visit our website, themoth.org. 

Catherine: [00:14:21] So, Dan, I cannot believe 500 episodes. 

Dan: [00:14:23] 500.

Catherine: [00:14:24] Do you remember how this whole thing started? 

Dan: [00:14:26] Kind of. 

Catherine: [00:14:26] I feel like I do. So, it was in 2008. I feel like for years and years, you had been telling me and Lea-- By Lea, I mean, Lea Thau, who was our longtime executive and creative director. You were telling us, “Guys, there's this cool thing called podcasting, and you should check it out.” And we were like, “What? Dan, give the stories away for free? That's crazy.” What did we know? [chuckles] 

I will say Lea would always have a genius of like, “This is the time to do this right now.” It was 2008, you guys were at the Perth Writers Festival-

Dan: [00:14:56] Oh, yeah.

Catherine: [00:14:57] -during the month in Australia. So, you guys call me from Australia like, “We're going to do this.” I'm like, “When?” “In a few months?” “No, next week.” That's at least how I remember it. We just pulled it together, and the first episode was born. 

Dan: [00:15:08] Yeah. There was a number like a thousand people had listened, and it was just like, [George laughs] “Oh, my God, this is--’ 

Catherine: [00:15:15] This is insane. Like, a thousand people heard that story. We were so grateful and just blown away. Like, “A thousand people. Yes.” [chuckles] 

Dan: [00:15:23] That's right. 

Catherine: [00:15:23] All right. Should we hear another story? 

Dan: [00:15:25] Let's hear another story. 

Up next, this story is from Erin Barker. And she told it live at a GrandSLAM we did here in New York in 2013. The theme of the night was The Heat is On. Here's Erin Barker, live from New York. 

[cheers and applause] 

Erin: [00:15:42] All right, so, when I was in junior high, my mom left my family, which I know sounds like a terrible thing. But actually, bear with me. It was awesome, [audience chuckles] because it was just me, my dad and my brother. Every single night for dinner, we had pizza. And also, I, now, after school, had a coveted hour alone in the house, before my brother got home from elementary school. I would spend this hour almost exclusively playing air guitar to my Barenaked Lady CD. [audience laughter] 

And then, my brother would get home and we'd walk our retriever, Samuel, around the neighborhood and then we'd watch Pokémon. And then, my dad would come home and we'd eat pizza again. It was awesome. Every day was a perfect day [audience laughter] until the night of my school play. After our performance, one of our illustrious cast members, Bethany, came up to me with her mother, and she said to me the four words that would live in infamy. “Is your dad single?” [audience chuckles] I think back to this moment a lot, and I wonder how my life would be different if I'd said no. But I didn't. [audience chuckles] I said yes. And within a year, my dad was married to this woman, and she and her two stupid kids were living in our house. [audience laughter] 

She had, like I said, two kids. Bethany, the first one, was the same age as me, and she was the Jesus freak to end all Jesus freaks. [audience chuckles] I went to church every Sunday, and I was in the youth group, but even I was like, “All right, Bethany, easy on the Jesus.” [audience laughter] She was a member of an all-female Christian barbershop quartet [audience laughter] called Voices of Praise. And the four of them would wear matching puffy painted sweatshirts and scrunchies to school all the time. 

Her brother, Robbie, was a year older than us, and he was a genius. He was building a computer from scratch in his room. He was also a musical prodigy and got straight A's and everything. It became clear almost immediately after they moved in that my perfect life was gone. There was no more air guitar after school, because Robbie and Bethany were there watching me with their judging eyes. [audience chuckles] The only show that was ever on our television was Bethany's favorite show, which was 7th Heaven, [audience laughter] which is the worst show in the universe. [audience laughter] 

My dad gave our dog, Samuel, away because, Bethany was allergic. [audience aww] What made it even worse, was that I didn't know what my role was in the family anymore, because my brother had always been the adorable baby and then I was the good, smart one. And now, Bethany was the good one, and Robbie was the smart one, and there was no way I could compete with either of them. 

I remember hearing my dad talking on the phone to my grandparents. He was talking about Bethany, and her choir recital and how good she was. And then, he was talking about Robbie the Mathlete, and how smart he was. And then, he said, “Oh, Erin? No, she's not really doing anything.” The clincher came at Christmas. What I wanted for Christmas more than I'd ever wanted anything, was a Fender Stratocaster, this very specific Strat that was hanging up at our Local music store that was the exact same color blue as the one Ed Robertson from the Barenaked Ladies played. [audience laughter] 

My dad, he took me to the store and he let me try it out and everything. I just knew from the way he was smiling that he was definitely going to buy it for me. And on Christmas morning, it was there under the tree. But it was also attached to a card that said, “To Robbie.” [audience aww] You guys get it. [audience laughter] It was in that moment that I realized that though the good role and the smart role were both taken in my family, there was one vacancy still available. [audience laughter] And that was the role of the complete and total asshole. [audience laughter] [audience cheers and applause] 

I assumed it immediately. [audience laughter] I started drinking, and swearing and just being a general dick. [audience laughter] I once egged my own house- [audience laughter] [audience applause] -with actual eggs from my own refrigerator. [audience laughter] And then, came report card day. Obviously, Robbie had straight A's on his report card, and all the teachers loved Bethany. But me, for the first time ever, I had some C's and D's on my report card. I was just sitting there, just feeling so frustrated by the fact that I could just never compare to them, and I realized that what would really make me feel better, what would really be a good idea in this situation, would be to set my report card on fire in a kitchen pot [audience laughter] in a symbolic gesture of my rebellion against their standards. [audience chuckles] 

Unfortunately, I failed to predict exactly how much smoke your standard 9th grade report card produces. [audience chuckles] It is quite a lot. So, before long, my dad and Becky were both knocking on the door, demanding to know what was going on. Over the following months, it got around school, probably from Robbie, that I had not only set a fire, but that I had been attempting to burn my house down and kill my whole family. [audience chuckles] I never corrected anyone, [audience laughter] because I had to make a choice. I could either have people think I was a psychopath or have people think I was emo. And psychopath was clearly less embarrassing. [audience laughter] 

So, over the course of a year, I'd gone from being the good and smart one to being the psychopath, which I'll admit bothered me for a long time. But now, I'm grown up, and Robbie's not a rocket scientist and Bethany is not the second coming of Christ. [audience chuckles] She's actually just kind of an asshole who lives in the Midwest and posts photos on Facebook of herself in Chick-fil-A Day. [audience laughter] [audience cheers] 

So, it's hard to be jealous of that. I realized that maybe there never was any such thing as the good one, or the smart one or the asshole, and that I'm just me, which is some combination of all three. Thank you. 

[cheers and applause] 

Dan: [00:23:02] That's Erin Barker. Erin is a writer, a moth GrandSLAM champion and the artistic director of the science storytelling project, The Story Collider. You can find out more about the project at storycollider.org. 

George: [00:23:16] I remember the first time we heard Erin at a SLAM, you were hosting the SLAM, I was one of the judges. You came to sit near me, and we had never experienced her before and we just started laughing. And we were on the floor laughing. 

Dan: [00:23:36] Yeah. 

George: [00:23:36] Not everybody else was laughing, but I just thought everything she said just slew me. 

Dan: [00:23:43] Yeah, I thought it was going to be this precious story, the way it started out, like this sort of emotional-- It is an emotional story. Yeah, the only thing I remember about that night was just being doubled over by the side of the stage, just in stitches. 

Catherine: [00:23:59] So, now, that story was so hilarious. But in true fashion, [chuckles] now we're going to go 180 in here one of the most intense and heartbreaking stories. We're going to hear from Kate Braestrup. I have a personal connection to Kate, because I was actually reading one of her books at a time when I lost someone who was very close to me. And the miracle that I was reading Kate's book in that moment, I feel like it saved my sanity. 

Dan: [00:24:23] Right. So, rounding out the show, as Catherine said, here's Kate Braestrup. The theme of the night was Into the Wild. This is from a Mainstage show that we did up in Portland, Maine. 

[applause] 

Kate: [00:24:36] So, Nina's mother came up to me. She said, “I have a problem. Nina, my daughter, wants to visit her cousin Andy.” Well, I looked over at Nina, and Nina was hanging by her knees from the swing in her backyard. Her hair was kind of sweeping the ground. “How old is Nina, again?” She said, “Five.” I said, “Oh.” 

 I should probably mention that Andy was dead, which isn't unusual. I have been the chaplain to the main warden service for 12 years now. And in addition to enforcing fish and wildlife law, Maine's game wardens respond to a variety of outdoor calamities, including search and rescue operations, snowmobile accidents, all-terrain vehicle accidents, homicide, suicides, drownings. When it's a fatal, the chaplain goes with them. 

When I teach the game wardens, the new baby game wardens, at the academy, the art of managing death, the example I usually use is my own. I want to illustrate for them that when a family member says they want to see the body of their loved one, you can trust that you really can. So, I tell them about when my husband, Drew, died. He died in 1996. He was a police officer, and he was killed instantly when his cruiser was T boned by a truck. As soon as I heard the news, I wanted to see his body. I wanted to take care of him, and bathe and dress him. I said as much to the funeral director when he showed up at the house. And the funeral director used that special voice that they learn in funeral parlor school. [audience chuckles] 

“Yes,” he said, “I see, yes.” And then, he went back to the funeral parlor, went into his office, and called the state police and said, “I thought you should know that trooper's widow wants to bathe and dress the body herself.” Basically, the state police freak out. So, phone calls were going ricocheting back and forth across the state of Maine all night long, from the state police command staff to the funeral parlor, to Tom, the trooper who had been assigned specifically to manage me. 

And in the morning, Tom arrived at my house with the news that the state police, upon consideration, had decided that they would allow me to do this thing. “But you have to take me with you,” he said. “And I'll go too,” said my mom. Good old mom. “And you have to take Sergeant Cunningham and Sergeant Drake as well, because they aren't sure about this. You're going to have to trust us, Kate, because if we don't like what we see, we are going to take you out.” 

So, I pictured all three police officers taking out their sidearms [audience chuckles] right there in the funeral parlor. “I don't think that will be necessary,” I said. “She grew up on a farm,” said my mom. “She's used to dead things.” [audience chuckles] What were they afraid of? Well, duh, they were afraid that seeing the body would make it hurt more. They were trying to protect me. So, I had to feign absolute confidence. I took my mother's hand, and she and I, flanked by law enforcement professionals, did a weird perp walk up the street [audience chuckles] to the funeral parlor where Mr. Moss, the funeral director, let us in. 

They all kept their eyeballs peeled, watching me walk into the cool room where Drew's body lay. He was there and he was dead, but that's all. He was just dead. He was wearing the Halloween novelty boxer shorts, our nine year old had chosen for him. They were covered with little bats that were saying, “Trick or treat.” “I'm okay,” I said. So, the troopers and my mom and the funeral director all went out, and I had about 20 minutes by myself. And then, they came back and together, we got Drew bathed and dressed in his Class A's, his dress uniform. 

I can't say it was easy. I mean, if you've ever tried to put someone in a Class A uniform who's not cooperating, [audience chuckles] you know what I mean? But we made him look spiffy, and it was better than fine. It was better than okay. It was terrible, and beautiful, and funny and sad, and it was fine. So, after that that's the story that I use. Occasionally, there'll be a warden who needs a biblical reference. So, I'll point out to him that back in Bible times, there were no state troopers or funeral directors to get in the way of things. 

Mary Magdalene did not have to justify herself to the disciples, did not have to overcome their protective skepticism when she wanted to go to Jesus’ tomb to anoint His body. And she did not feel called upon to justify her distress when she arrived and found the body gone. Nowadays, we are led to believe that it's the presence of the body, not its absence, that is most distressing. But in my experience, and I have a lot of experience by now, it is far, far more common for the bereaved to wish they had seen their loved one's body than for them to regret having done so. 

So, at the main warden service, we are very proactive, as they say, about making space, about empowering and enabling and encouraging families, and about getting the strangers out of the way at some point in our operation, so that the moms and the dads and the lovers and the friends and the siblings can take care of their own. And let me tell you, the mourners are magnificent. Even when the body is smelly or skeletal or ugly, they're magnificent. They are tender and brave. A mother will smooth the wet hair back from her drowned son's face, the dad will hold his hand, the spouse will lay a flower on his breast and murmur endearments. “I love you,” they say, “And goodbye.” 

Is this what Nina had in mind, little Nina, when she wanted to visit cousin Andy? I don't know. And I don't think she knew, because she'd never seen a dead person before. She didn't even live on a farm. Maybe there was a dead goldfish in her past, but she's five. That's not a lot of past to work with. “What if it hurts more?” her mom said. “What if it hurts more? She's five years old and cousin Andy was four.” Suffer the little children to come unto me, that line kept going through my head, although as the wardens told me the one good thing you could say about Andy's death was that he didn't suffer. He didn't have time. He was killed instantly when an ATV, an all-terrain vehicle driven by a neighbor, rolled over on him. 

When we'd finished processing the scene, the body was taken directly to the funeral home. That's where Nina wanted to go. She wanted to go and visit his body. I had seen his body. I can't say it was easy. “But she's so sure,” her mom said. “She's five years old,” her dad said. Finally, I said, “You know, I think it would be okay. I don't believe it would make it worse. She's your child. You know her. You know what's best for her. But I think it would be okay.” “Well, we're going to have to think about it,” said the dad. 

A few days later, I went back because the family had asked me to preside over the service. So, I arrived at the church early, and Nina's mom was up at the altar table arranging photographs and pictures and flowers and Tonka trucks and stuff. She said, “I have to remember to leave room for the box containing Andy's ashes.” But it's a small box. I said, “So, what did you decide about Nina? What did Nina do?” She looked at me, and her eyes went big with the persistent astonishment of someone who's seen a miracle. Her eyes just pop and she goes, “Let me tell you, it was amazing.” 

Little Nina, they drive her to the funeral home. She hops out of the car. She's out across the parking lot with such confidence that they have to scramble to keep up. They get to the door of the cool room where Andy's body is, and they stop her and they say, “Nina, you know Andy is not going to be able to talk to you.” “Yup,” says Nina. “And you know that he isn't going to be able to stand up or walk or move or even open his eyes.” “Yes, yes,” says Nina. She opens the door, and in she goes. 

She walks right up to the dais where Andy's little body lay covered with the quilt his mom had made him when he was a baby. She walks all the way around the dais, touching him, making sure he's all there. And then, she takes his hand and she puts her head down on his chest and she talks to him. Well, after about 10 minutes of this, her mother, who's awash in tears, says, “Okay, Nina, are you ready to go?” “No,” says Nina, “But I'll tell you when I am.” So, she smooths the hair back from his brow. 

She sings to him. She puts his Fisher Price telescope in his hand, so that he can see anything he wants to see from heaven. And then, she said, “I'm ready to go now. I'm ready to go, but he's not going to be getting up, so I have to tuck him in.” So, she walks around the dais again, tucking him in very carefully. And then, she says, “I love you, Andy Dandy. Goodbye.” 

You can trust a human being with grief, even a small human being. I tell the wardens, “Walk fearlessly into the house of mourning. For grief is only love that has come up against its oldest challenge. And after all these mortal years, love knows how to handle it.” 

I don't need to have confidence. I certainly don't need to have to feign confidence anymore in that, because I have Nina. And with her parents’ permission, so do you. Thank you. 

[applause] 

Dan: [00:37:30] That was Kate Braestrup. Since 2001, Kate has served as chaplain to the Maine Warden Service, joining game wardens as they search the wildlands and fresh waters of Maine for those who have lost their way, and offering comfort to those who wait for the ones they love to be rescued. She's also a bestselling author. The book that Catherine was referring to earlier in the podcast is called Here If You Need Me. And Kate's most recent book is entitled Anchor and Flames. 

George: [00:37:58] After that story was broadcast, I heard from so many people who had-- that story had such an impact on them. I was once in Belize. It was about two years ago in this little town in the middle of nowhere. At a coffee shop, I happened to be wearing The Moth T-shirt, and somehow or another it came out that I was the founder of The Moth and then, all of these people came up to me. What they were talking about usually was the impact that stories like Kate had. 

Kate's story had helped them through some great time of grief or depression. So, I was profoundly surprised that The Moth-- it wasn't just that the stories were beautiful. But these people were saying, “No, these stories from these brilliant storytellers, they're sometimes lifesaving.” I was blown away. 

Dan: [00:39:02] Yeah, The Moth is a combination between a good bar and rehab and therapy, [George laughs] sort of all three. 

Our final story on today's episode was told by Taylor Negron, and it was at a Mainstage that we did in East Lansing, Michigan. The theme of the night was Twist of Fate. Here's a really amazing story from Taylor. 

[cheers and applause] 

Taylor: [00:39:34] I was born in Los Angeles in a house, in a canyon that was in a nest of palm trees that casted these thin, unmoving shadows, like prison bars. It was very California Gothic. [audience chuckles] I am very California Gothic. I am the child of those people that you used to see in the ads for cigarettes in the back of Life magazine. Those handsome people that were always wearing terry cloth robes and penny loafers, smoking cigarettes, looking like they just heard the funniest joke of their life. [audience chuckles] The Marlboro man met the Virginia Slims woman and had me. [audience laughter] 

It's very California Gothic to have your best friend's mother, who is a movie star, keep her cracked Oscar in the kitchen next to the salt and the cumin and the Coumadin. [audience chuckles] It's very California Gothic to see Joan Didion crying at the wheel of her green jaguar on Moorpark below Ventura. It's very California Gothic to have a cousin who is a rock star. My cousin is Chuck Negron, the lead singer for the group Three Dog Night. He bore a startling resemblance to Charles Manson. [audience laughter] 

Now, when you were a kid like me in 1970, growing up in Los Angeles, you knew that you shared the city with Charles Manson and his family, because that grisly, murderous night of mayhem and Helter Skelter was all anybody could talk about. And for those of you who are too young to know what Helter Skelter is, it's like twerking, but with blood. [audience laughter] It was really scary, really horrifying. 

And my parents, they were always going out on the town. They were always getting dressed up and leaving, like in Mad Men. They just left me alone. They just went out. One night, my father came in and he said, “I want you to close all these doors and windows. I don't want these hippies to come in here and [as Desdemona]-gut you.” [audience laughter] You heard him. [audience chuckles] That was an option in my childhood to be de-gutted. It left a tremendous psychic scar on my life that has stayed with me forever. I'm still very disturbed by hippies, and long hairs, [audience chuckles] and headbands, and large candles, and beads and bandanas. I just don't like any of it. [audience chuckles] 

I was only 12 years old. I was a tween. I was a changeling. [audience chuckles] I was changing into a man. But childhood is a place where your fears are disproportionate. They're huge, but then so are your goals. And that's where the magic can happen in these goals. And my goal, when I was a child, was to own a gorilla. [audience laughter] Or, a monkey or an ape, anything from the monkey, ape, gorilla family. I just wanted someone to be able to play hide and go seek with, [audience laughter] swimming, shoot dice, light ironing. [audience laughter] 

My parents were these really emphatic ghetto people from New York City, who didn't like animals at all. My mother said, “Look, you will never, ever see a monkey walk through that door.” [audience laughter] But something very magical happened [audience laughter] that Christmas of 1970. You see, my uncle Ishmael-- That was his real name. Ishmael. He was a trucker. [audience chuckles] He had his own flatbed truck, which meant that he could follow other people around who had flatbed bed trucks and pick up what fell off of theirs. [audience laughter] 

One day, he was closing down this raggedy ass Circus Vargas in the Hollywood bowl parking lot on Highland and a he came across a monkey that somebody was throwing out. [audience laughter] A live monkey named Carroll. [audience laughter] Two Rs, two Ls. [audience laughter] And we knew it was called Carroll, because it had its own cage with its name on it. That is what changed the deal with my parents, because they are emphatic New Yorkers. So, they said, “Well, if it's free [audience laughter] and it comes with a cage, [audience laughter] what harm can it do?” Well, Carroll came to the house. I was so excited. Carroll arrived on that flatbed truck on a pile of grapefruits in his cage. 

When I went out there and greeted him, and I looked into those big round eyes, I knew that that I would understand everything that monkey had to say to me, and that I would experience unconditional love. Well, the monkey promptly squatted, shat into its hand, [audience chuckles] and then threw it into my eye [audience laughter] under paw. [audience laughter] And from the shadow, I heard the ice clink in my mom's drink. [audience laughter] And she said, “That's your monkey.” [audience laughter] 

I loved my monkey so much, and I stuck with my monkey while everybody turned against my monkey. [audience laughter] Sometimes they even put a sheet over its cage. I stuck with my monkey when my monkey was willfully and intentionally fucked my grandmother's mink hat, [audience laughter] and I took the blame. [audience laughter] 

Carroll was my most cherished early Christmas present. But Carroll was not the only unexpected visitor that season. One Christmas night, the Santa Ana winds blew too hard against the glass in cold, frightening Los Angeles. I had fallen asleep into a deep Christmas sleep. I looked out the window and I saw a van pull up in front of the house, turn off and just stop. Nothing happened. For 30 minutes, nothing happened. And I thought to myself, this is it. This is my nightmare it's going to come true. And I thought to myself, well, at least I made it to 12. [audience laughter] 

Then I looked out, and the door opened up, and then finally this plume of smoke rolled out, and these hippies came out on wobbly feet and started slinking up to the front of the house. As the cast of Woodstock approached, [audience chuckles] I felt vulnerable in my Charlie Brown sleeping T-shirt. [audience chuckles] I waited for the physical and emotional attack to begin. 

There was a knock on the door, and I heard my mother's voice, muffled. I knew she was dead, throats cut. I had read the papers. But then, I heard her say, “Grilled cheese sandwiches for everyone.” Why was my mother giving protein to a serial killer? [audience chuckles] And then, there was a blast as my father came into my room and he said, “Your cousin Chuck is here. Come down.” I timidly followed my father down the stairs to see in the living room what appeared to be Mama Cass Elliot, Jim Morrison and assorted long hairs devouring Christmas cookies. 

My cousin stood shyly holding a Three Dog Night album at the stereo, and he told us he was going to play a song for us that no one had ever heard before. Side one song A, Jeremiah was a bullfrog Was a good friend of mine I never understood a single word he said But I helped him a-drink his wine. 

And on that cold windy night, everyone stood up and started to dance. My father grabbed my mother and they started to dance. I looked over and Jim Morrison, The Jim Morrison was dancing the jitterbug with my grandmother on the coffee table. [audience chuckles] It was so extraordinary. It was so magnificent. The hippies and the longhairs were all singing along to choruses of Joy to the World. All the boys and girls, now. And then, the song was over, and someone picked up the needle and put it back at the beginning. And the song continued and the dancing continued. 

There's something emblematic about certain California Christmas memories and here is one that is transcendent, rock and roll. This is what made my monkey legendary. [audience chuckles] He came down, [audience laughter] hurtling down the stairs and went right up to the stereo and started dancing. [audience laughter] Had we forgotten? Carroll was a circus monkey. And this was her cue. You know I love the ladies. His arms outstretched like rubber bands. He started picking off the ornaments from the Christmas tree. Love to have my fun. The monkey started to juggle. [audience laughter] 

I'm a high night rider and a rainbow flyer. A straight-shooting son of a gun. I said a straight shoot. [audience laughter] I wish you were all there to have seen the expression on those stoned. [audience laughter] On it, we found out later LSD hippies and my grandmother, as Carroll, my monkey, rightfully claimed the spotlight. [audience laughter] Glee is a very good word to use, because that's what it was. Pure happiness and glee, because I was 12 years old and I was alive and I had escaped Manson's knife, [audience laughter] and I had a monkey with talent. [audience laughter] 

As everybody danced and as everybody laughed and as everybody ate cookies, I looked at my family, I looked at these people and all of their crimes, past, present and future seemed to just spill out and dissolve into the contours of the blue shag rug. And as Carroll balanced an ashtray on his nose, it was as though I was looking into my future. Because I realized all the glorious things that could happen with music and with joy. And that Christmas, the last one that I was ever a child, I learned a very important lesson that I'd like to pass on to you all tonight. And that's that no matter how horrible your day is and no matter how scary your night is, everything can turn on a dime and with a knock the door. Thank you. 

[cheers and applause] 

Dan: [00:54:23] Taylor Negron was a standup comedian, actor and writer. And he starred in his own HBO special and appeared on The Tonight Show, as well as in films such as Stuart Little, The Last Boy Scout, Fast Times at Ridgemont High rather famously and The Aristocrats. He died just a few months after telling this story, and we miss him so much here at The Moth. 

Catherine: [00:54:45] Amen. 

Dan: [00:54:48] That does it for this week's episode of The Moth, the 500th episode. George Dawes Green, I want to thank you for starting The Moth. And Catherine Burns, I want to thank you for building The Moth into what it is. The Moth has-- Oh, my God, it's totally changed my life and it's given me a family in New York 3,000 miles from home. 17 years ago, I walked out the door and joined you guys for an evening and I thought it would be one night, and it's been this long. So, thank you very much. I'm very grateful. 

George: [00:55:19] Thank you, Dan. 

Catherine: [00:55:20] Oh. Thank you, Dan. Yeah. I always say that this job is one of the great loves of my life. It is such a privilege. And thank you all for listening, because we would be nothing without you. So, thanks for being the heartbeat of The Moth for so long.

George: [00:55:33] And thank you to all these great raconteurs. 

Dan: [00:55:37] Yeah, I always like to say that, we are not The Moth as much as you guys are The Moth. So, thanks for your stories. And thanks for listening this week. As always, we hope that you have a story-worthy week. 

Mooj: [00:55:50] Dan Kennedy is the author of the books, Loser Goes First, Rock on and American Spirit. He's also a regular host and performer with The Moth.

Dan: [00:55:59] Podcast production by Timothy Lou Ly. The Moth Podcast is presented by PRX, the Public Radio Exchange, helping make public radio more public at prx.org.