Host: Meg Bowles
[Uncanny Valley theme music by The Drift playing]
Meg: [00:00:13] From PRX, this is The Moth Radio Hour. I'm Meg Bowles and in this hour, we'll travel around the country to hear stories from our live open mic StorySLAM events. [music transition] Louisville, Kentucky, San Francisco, Burlington, Vermont and Portland, Oregon, as well as the birthplace of The Moth StorySLAM, New York City.
The StorySLAM started in 2001. Back then, poetry slams were all the rage in New York. And, our founder, George Dawes Green thought, “Why not start an evening where people, anyone who wanted to, could get up on stage and share a story.” The first few nights were pretty rocky, but people kept coming and the stories got better. And today, we have SLAMs all over the country and all over the world. In every city, the evenings are the same. Ten storytellers drawn from a hat, four teams of judges and one winner.
[crowd murmuring]
When John Dubuque first went to the StorySLAM in Burlington, Vermont, he'd never been on a stage. He was a semi-pro football player who came for an evening out with his girlfriend. What he didn't realize was she would end up putting his name in the hat. Here's John Dubuque live at The Moth.
[cheers and applause]
John: [00:01:23] All right, first, I want to thank my lovely new fiancée for volunteering me for this. We got engaged last week. [cheers and applause] I think it's important to preface this story by saying that, like, I'm a man's man. I play football. I work at a juvenile detention center as a hybrid Superman prison guard. [audience chuckles] I do a lot of different things. A year ago approximately, at that juvenile detention center that I work at, I was approached by the staff there-- the director there, that they were trying to incorporate some new programming. And that programming was going to be yoga for the kids, [audience chuckle] not something that I do. I mean, I'm 300 pounds, I play football and like roll around and drink beer. I don't lay on a mat. [audience laughter]
So, I was a little bit hesitant when they came to me and said, “Hey, we want to send you away for a week to an all-intensive yoga retreat”, [laughter and applause] but I'm pretty open minded. And they said, “For this week, we'll pay you. We're going to send you in.” I thought, “Oh, I don't have to be in the building. I can go out, get paid.” And so, I signed up. It was Kripalu. I don't know if any of you know what that is, [cheers and applause] but so it's like in the Berkshire mountains of Massachusetts. It's like four hours from Vermont. It was completely not anything that I have ever been, anything I've ever done in my life. It's nowhere like anything I've ever done. So, I got in the van with two other employees who were going with me. One of them takes yoga all the time and the other is like a 95-pound female who is super flexible and gymnast, and she did a little yoga as well. So, I'm completely out of my element. We get in the car, we drive down to Kripalu, we get there and it's like Hogwarts up on the mountain. Like, [audience chuckles] we get there in the middle of the night, it's all lit up and there's people running around in yoga pants [audience chuckles] and all that stuff. And I do not know what I'm getting myself into. Very, very, very hesitant.
I walked through the doors. One of the women that I had worked with, she attended Kripalu on her own about a year prior. Before we left, she came to us and said, “No matter what you do, when you go there, make sure that you at least one day go to noon dance.” So, they have this program there. So were in classes all day learning yoga, learning about yoga instruction, learning how to better take care of yourself as a person. And then during the two-hour lunch break every day you could just eat, which I did for the majority of the time there, [audience chuckles] or you could take another yoga class. Or they offered meditation and they also offered this noon dance class.
So, the woman I worked with said noon dance, she compared it to giving childbirth. She said it was like the greatest experience she's ever had in her life. [audience laughter] So, knowing that I'm never going to be able to give childbirth, I thought like, I guess I got to try it out. [audience chuckles] So, while the two people I went with were taking a yoga class one day I got out of my comfort zone and I went to noon dance. So, I walked in and there's probably 50 people in this big circle and there's an instructor with a headset mic that's running the whole thing. And she's starting you out with some basic stretches and you're like moving around and floating and starting that. Then she asks everyone to get on all fours. So, I'm a little concerned at this moment. But I get down there and I'm balanced out on all fours and she starts going through like cat-cow pose, which is all new to me. I'm just learning this. So, like cat-cow, cat-cow. [audience chuckles] So, I'm getting through it, I'm doing it, struggling a little bit. And, I'm kind of rigid. Because the next thing she says is, “Now pretend that you're actually a cat.” And she's like, start looking around the room and maybe you notice another cat that catches your eye. [audience chuckles]
And so, now I'm like, “Whoa.” All fours, like, super, super still and super quiet. And this woman, she looks at me, and I'm trying not to see her, but I definitely see her. You can't miss her. [audience laughter] She's got, like, big, long red hair, like, flowing clothes, and she's just a personality. So, she starts crawling over to me on all fours, [audience chuckles] and I'm just thinking, “I have a girlfriend at home. I don't know what's about to happen. [audience laughter] I don't know what they do with these hippie retreats. Help.” So, I'm staying there, and the next thing the instructor says is, “Maybe you start rubbing hips with the person next to you.” [audience laughter]
So, she comes over, and I guess I looked inviting. [audience chuckles] So, she's got her hips right along mine. She's just rotating the hips and rubbing against me. And then she starts to purr. [audience chuckles] And, that was just too much for me. And my mind is freaking out. It's racing. I'm going crazy. And she looks at me and she says, “Have you tried purring?” [audience chuckles] And I told her that I didn't think I had it in me. And she kind of persisted, and she kept gyrating. And so, finally, I kind of looked around the room and realized, the people I work with, they're gone in another yoga class, there's nobody else here. No one's ever going to find out about it, right? [audience laughter]
So, I let out a little [purr sound] [audience chuckles] And honestly, it was probably one of the most freeing things I've ever done in my life. And it just instantly, everything, all my guard was down, everything was off, and I just danced my face off for an hour. And it was absolutely incredible. And I realized, I think, in that moment that you really don't know what you're capable of until you kind of let your guard down a little bit.
[cheers and applause]
Meg: [00:08:03] [music playing] John Dubuque ended up being crowned the StorySLAM winner of that evening. John has since retired from playing football. He still works at Woodside Juvenile Rehabilitation Center. And as for yoga, he's been in contact with Kripalu about going back for a longer teaching certification course. You can see a picture of John and his fiancée, Courtney, who was responsible for getting him up on stage on our radio extras page at themoth.org.
[crowd murmuring]
When Leah Benson took the stage at our StorySLAM in Portland, Oregon, she found it all a little terrifying. She says, “It's one thing to talk in front of people you know, and a completely different thing to reveal a part of yourself in a room filled with strangers.” Here's Leah Benson, live from Portland.
[cheers and applause]
Leah: [00:08:55] So, his name was Carlos. [audience chuckles] We'd worked together in Quetzaltenango, Guatemala, where I'd been living for a couple of years. And by this point, we'd been living together for about six months. But I'd been secretly in love with him for about nine. He'd recently started working at this bar called Bohemios, which we'd been hanging out at for months. It was this really crappy, awful dive bar that catered to American tourists. The kind of place that pours, like, really light beer, awful stuff, but blares the best and worst music from the 70s, 80s, and 90s, all from the United States, so that people want to come in there, but no one really did.
But we hung out there every night, singing along to songs like Unbreak My Heart and Living on a Prayer and doing our best to translate every single word for the locals hanging out in there into Spanish so that they could ironically appreciate everything as well. [audience chuckles] But anyway, it was really exciting when he started working there.
So, Carlos came home one night to our apartment, and it was fairly late, like 1:00 or 2:00 AM. But I was, of course, waiting up for him like I always did, because I just wanted to see him. And he came in, he told me a little bit about the night, the funny stories about what the drunks did, and then he went to go take a shower. But before doing that, he laid down this pile of books that he had brought with him to the bar, something to look at during the slow hours. And as he walked away, I, of course, looked at it because I always wanted to know what he was reading so that I knew what I should be reading, too. [audience chuckles] So, the next time he asked me who my favorite poet was, I knew that I should say something like Ezra Pound instead of William Blake.
So, on this particular night, he was reading a collection of T.S. Eliot poems. And when I bent down to pick up the book, this piece of paper fell out onto the floor. And I could immediately recognize his somewhat childish handwriting. And I couldn't see much, but I could see that it was written in Spanish. And I saw the phrase, no puedo vivir sin ti. [whistle from the audience] I know I was like, “Oh, my God.” And in that moment, I knew that this letter was written for me. It was a love letter that Carlos had written out for me and me alone to see. And so, I ran, I went to get my dictionary. Because there are two things you should know about Carlos. First off, he is the son of US diplomats and had grown up in Spanish speaking countries his entire life. And so, he was fluent. And I'd lived in Guatemala for a couple of years. And so, I was fluent in the way that I might write, like fluent on my job resume, but not actually fluent. [audience laughter] And so, I knew I'd need some help. And number two was that Carlos had a degree in poetry from Yale.
And so, I knew whatever he was going to be writing to me was going to be in that, like, absolutely beautiful and totally incomprehensible way that poets express themselves. [audience chuckles] So, I got my dictionary and I started translating. And it was amazing. The first line was, "When I first met you, I was afraid, but now I can't live without you." And I just stopped. This was exactly what I'd been wanting to say to him for months. This is exactly what I'd wanted to be hearing. And I couldn't believe it had been happening. I had given up my life essentially to be with this man. I'd stayed living in this foreign country when I could have been returning to the United States to start a career and stuff.
And instead I just stayed with him. And we spent every moment together. We knew everything about one another and we shared our hopes and dreams and all these things. And I knew that were in love, but I'd never heard it from him before. So, I was just so excited. And it got even better from there. It turned from him being afraid to him not being able to live without me and all of these really amazing things. And I was allowing myself. Like, my mind was running wild and I was imagining how he would walk out of the bathroom and I walk towards him and I would, like, embrace him and passionately kiss him and run my hands through his amazing hair. [audience chuckles] And I would just let him know that I felt the same.
And at this moment, I remember something running through my head, that golden rule, just like Misty, that “If something's too good to be true, that it might be too good.” So, but then I was like, “You know what? Fuck it. This is actually true. This is happening. This guy wrote a letter to me.” And so, I continued reading. I opened back up my dictionary, and that's when shit got a little bit weird because all of a sudden, the next line that I was reading was talking about how I had done him wrong. And it didn't say Leah exactly, but I knew it was about me. [audience laughter]
And I never ever done this man wrong. I have committed myself to this relationship, to being the perfect, perfect person for him. I don't know what he's talking about. And then all of a sudden it just like hit me. And this translation that I was doing became so clear, all the words just like formed in front of me. And I, at that point, just crossed my fingers, took a deep breath and just like pleaded with the universe, hoping that the next words that I would read on this page of this love letter would not be what I thought that they were. But then I opened my eyes and I looked down and I saw voy a sobrevivir. And at that moment I just started to cry because I realized Carlos didn't love me. He never did, never was going to. And I wasn't reading a love letter. I was reading a translation of the Gloria Gaynor hit song I Will Survive. [audience laughter] And at that point, I wasn't entirely sure that I would.
[cheers and applause]
Meg: [00:14:41] When Leah Benson left the stage, the judges scores landed her in the bottom half, far from a win. But the thing most people don't realize is we have a team of people listening to every story ever told at a SLAM. The judging at a show is really just for fun and it gives us an excuse to celebrate someone for telling a great story. But when I told Leah that we wanted to play her story on the radio, she said, “Take that judges.”
[I will survive song by Gloria Gaynor playing]
[crowd murmuring]
Here's another story from the Portland Oregon SLAM series. Kathy Kinnear Hill also missed winning the night, but only by a fraction of a point. The theme of the evening was Crime and Punishment. Here's Kathy Kinnear Hill live at The Moth.
[cheers and applause]
Kathy: [00:15:40] The year's 1965. Take that in for a minute. 1965. My best friend is Lena and she has beautiful green eyes and sandy blonde hair. And then there's me. At that time, I don't think I had a whole lot of teeth. I was 8 years old and my hair was every direction. We were awkward, we were eight, but we were best friends. She invited me swimming. It was July, middle of the summer, hot in Portland and I was so excited. I'd been swimming a lot, but I hadn't gone to her pool. So, I packed my little beach bag [giggles] like it was a huge outing. It was 13 blocks away. [audience chuckles] And I had my towel with daisies on it. It was the 60s and $1.50, a dollar to get into the pool and 50 cents so I could get two Dreamsicles.
This was heaven. And it was in the day that you could go and walk 13 blocks. Moms weren't watching, they just said, “Bye, have fun.” So, we get to the pool and it's Eagles-- it's called Eagles Club. I didn't know anything about that. And so, we're in line. There's a lot of kids with the same idea on this hot day. And we're just shooting the breeze and looking at our little dollars in our hands. That was a whole lot of money. And we get up to the desk before you get to the pool. And Lena was so proud to say, “We're members here and I brought my friend.” And the guy must have been 15, he looked like a really old guy to me. He had a buzz cut, blonde, icy, mean, blue eyes. And he looked at Lena and said, “You can come in, but she can't.” “Wow. What? Did we hear that right? Well, no, this is my best friend. This is my very best friend. And I can bring a friend because I do that. I always do that, remember?” And so, and she has a dollar. And I held my dollar up and I was proud. He didn't take my dollar. She said, “No, my mom and dad said that I can bring my friend. She's Kathy, she's my best friend and we're going to swim.” And he looked at her and he said, “You can go in, but she can't.” So, what does an 8-year-old girl do when she really knows what's going on, but she'd never been there before?
In my neighborhood, I've been called that word. There's always one creep in the neighborhood. But institutionalizing racism, I didn't know what that was. I didn't know that this was policy. I didn't even know the word policy. But I knew in my heart that I wasn't going to swim that day. So, I looked at Lena and I said “Sincerely from my heart, you swim, you swim. I’ll just like come over later.” And she's 8. So, she did, she walks away. I turned around and all those kids behind me were looking at me, but they weren't looking at me with hate, they were looking at me because they were confused too. For some reason, I was being punished. And I think the crime was the color of my skin. So, I walked out and I walked what might have been the longest walk of my life and the loneliest walk home.
[cheers and applause]
Meg: [00:20:45] [music playing] That was Kathy Kinnear Hill. If you check out our website, you can see a picture of Kathy and find out more about her and our other storytellers. You can also find out if we have a SLAM coming up in your area. That's at themoth.org. Coming up, we'll hear more stories from our open mic StorySLAM series all around the country.
[Here Comes the Sun song by Richie Havens playing]
Jay: [00:21:26] The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts and presented by PRX.
[crowd murmuring]
Meg: [00:21:35] From PRX, this is The Moth Radio Hour. I'm Meg Bowles and our next storyteller, Tom Herndon, put his name in the hat at a SLAM in Louisville, Kentucky. He said every time a storyteller name would be drawn, he'd feel fear and nervous excitement. But when he didn't hear his name, he'd feel relief. When his name eventually was called, he took the stage and told this story.
[applause]
Tom: [00:22:02] All right. Well, I can tell you that nothing shatters a child's innocence more than watching one of their parents get busted. When I was 10, my mom and I went on a trip to visit some relatives in St. Paul, Minnesota, and our flight included a stop in Chicago. It turned out to be a very long stop. And faced with the prospect of six hours at O'Hare airport, we could have gone into the city, maybe caught a Cubs game or gone to the Art Institute. But for my depression-era mother, those things cost money. And what my mom saw as an opportunity at the airport with six hours to kill was a chance to make some money. [audience chuckles]
And at the center of this financial bonanza were luggage carts. What my mom noticed was that all the luggage carts in the rack, you had to put a dollar in. You got the luggage cart out, you took it wherever you needed it, and if you brought it back, you got a quarter. But nobody ever brings the cart back. And my mom quickly starts corralling all the carts [audience chuckles] that she can lay her hands on, bringing them back to the rack and getting the quarter. I'm mortally embarrassed by this. I pretend not to know who this woman is, but after an hour of pretty good hustle, she's sporting a pretty hefty pocket of quarters [audience chuckles] and she says, “Hey, come on, let's hustle. I'll split it with you.” [audience chuckles] So, reluctantly, I get drawn into the enterprise [audience chuckles] and I'm just spotting at first, I'm kind of staying on the fringe of this whole thing. But we're doing okay. We're racking up the quarters.
And that probably would have been all good and well until my mom is taking one of the carts back to the rack, and a woman stops her and says, “Hey, you finished with that cart? Do you mind if I take it?” And another light bulb goes off in my mom's head, and she says, “Yeah, you can have it for a dollar.” In my mom's mind, she's going to get the same price as if she went to the rack, but she's quadrupled her profit margin. [audience chuckles] Now, if my mom was busy before when she was making a quarter cart, she is now a blur [audience laughter] in one of the busiest airports in the world, she is moving. She's checking the monitors. She's seeing where flights are coming in. [audience laughter] She is looking at people coming from California. They're going to have a lot of luggage. [audience laughter] “We got to get that flight.”
She's hanging out of baggage claim. “Whoa, look at all those suitcases you got. You probably could use a cart. Just cost you a dollar.” She's infectious, she's persistent, she's likable, and she is putting away the paper money now. I'm not really keen on this new business direction that our enterprise is taking. Even though I was young, I started to sense that maybe we crossed over into something a little different now. And my suspicion is confirmed when, on the way to another gate to meet potential customers, [audience chuckles] my mom rounds a corner with a cart and runs right into two Chicago area airport police officers. “Ma'am, what are you doing?” “What am I doing?” Answer by repeating the question. That buys you a little time. [audience chuckles] “What does it look like I'm doing?” Answer a question with a question.
At this point, my mom had been married to an attorney for 25 years, so her verbal fencing skills are pretty solid. [audience laughter] “Well, ma'am, it looks like you're taking these carts and selling them to other people, and that's illegal.” I can tell this isn't a chance encounter because one of the security officers says into his walkie talkie, “Yeah, 1012, we found her.” [audience laughter] “Ma'am, why don't you have a seat?” Now I'm getting very nervous. These security folks have utility belts and badges, and I think I see handcuffs on the belts, and I'm wondering if those are going to come out. And people are starting to stare. They're starting to look. And he goes back and forth with my mom a little bit. “We're just coming from West Virginia. We don't know about your big city ways. [audience laughter] Just taking the carts back for the quarter.”
So, after a while he says, “Look, if you want to take the carts back that's fine. Take the course. But you can't walk around here selling this thing. Okay?” “Oh, yeah, absolutely. Sorry for the misunderstanding.” “No, it’s not really a misunderstanding, but that's okay.” Well, we finish up our low profit margin, end of the work, get on the flight to Minneapolis. And my mom says, “I don't think we need to tell your father about this. [audience laughter] We can just keep this between you and me.” Thanks.
[cheers and applause]
Meg: [00:28:09] That was Tom Herndon at the Louisville StorySLAM. [music playing] These days, Tom is a father of two, a high school senior and a freshman. He works in advertising, and he has to travel a fair amount, and often he'll find himself at a terminal waiting to catch a flight, and he'll see luggage carts and think of his mom.
[crowd murmuring]
At every SLAM in every city. It's hard to be the first name called, but someone always has to deal with the added pressure of going first. Like Caitlin Meyer when she told this story in San Francisco. The theme of the night was Interference.
[cheers and applause]
Caitlin: [00:28:54] So, I grew up in Provo, Utah, and if you don't know Provo, Utah, is the center of Mormondom. You think it's Salt Lake, but it's Provo. I was raised Mormon, but you should know as a teenager, I was a very bad Mormon. [audience chuckles] When I was 16, every night I would go into my room like I was going to bed, put on my nightgown, close the door, take off my nightgown, put on my clothes, open the window, climb out and spend the night with my boyfriend Lucio. [audience reaction] And all of his friends, we hung out in the party house. He was a metal guitarist. He was great. [audience chuckles] He had long hair. My parents hated him. It was perfect. [audience chuckles]
So, one morning, after spending all night with Lucio and his friends, I climbed back in my bedroom window, and there's my father in my bedroom. I had this idea that, “Okay, the jig is up. I've been caught, so maybe now is time to come clean about all of my sins.” [audience chuckles] I'm not really sure what I was thinking, but I told my father that I was on the pill. He cried a little bit, and he said, “I'm glad that you're taking precautions.” And then he said, “I'm going to have to tell your mother.” I heard the wail [audience chuckles] from the other side of the house. It was operatic. It was [wailing imitation]. And that touched dad off. And it was a really good approximation of hell. Even though Mormons don't believe in hell, it was a good Catholic hell going on there. [audience laughter]
So, I was told to leave the room. After they calmed down a little bit. I was told to leave the room and they had to discuss things, my fate. So, after a while, they said, “Okay, you can come back.” My mom was completely white and she had this grim mask on. And they said, “We've been talking and you have a choice.” “Oh, yay. Great. I have a choice.” They said, “We're thinking about Heritage School.” Heritage School was a reform school. And you may have seen documentaries about schools like these where big burly guys come into a teenager's bedroom in the middle of the night and kidnap them and take them away to this horrific reform school. They were always under suit from the ACLU. I know this because my mother used to work there. [chuckle] It's a charming, charming place. I said, “Okay, what's the other choice?” They said, “Well, you can marry him.” [audience aww] I said, “Okay, yeah, fine, I'll marry him.” That's what you want. That's what you're going to get.
So, we loaded into the car and we drove down to the party house. [audience chuckles] And Lucio's friend Darren was on the front lawn. And I saw him through the windshield of the car. And he went running inside to wake Lucio up because we'd been up all night. Lucio came out all rumpled and sat in the backseat of the car. I was in the front seat between my parents. And my parents proposed to him. [audience laughter] And Lucio, bless his heart, said “Yes.” He was also over 18, so they had that statutory thing over his head. But that's not why he said yes, it was love. So, for a month, were engaged. And I got to see him once a week. On alternating weeks, he would come to my house and we'd have a family financial planning meeting because we couldn't get married until he could support me. [audience chuckles] And on alternating weeks, I'd go to his parents’ house.
His parents were Brazilian, and they would have this big dinner, “And this is Lucio's fiancée.” Everything is beautiful. So, this is where the interference comes in. My parents sent me to a therapist after one month of engagement. I went to this therapist and I told him what was going on. And he said, “That's ridiculous.” [audience chuckles] I said, “Yeah.” He said, “You don't need to go to reform school.” I said, “Yeah.” He said, “You're too young to get married. I said, “Yeah.” He said, “You need to get out of that house.” I said, “I know. Tell them that.” He did. And my parents said, “You're right.” So, I left home at 16 and came to California. And for the rest of my life, I will be grateful to that therapist who saved my life.
[cheers and applause]
Meg: [00:35:00] That was Caitlin Meyer. [music playing] Caitlin is a writer who used to live in San Francisco. She recently got rid of all of her belongings, let go of her apartment, and is now living the life of a nomad. Since telling that story, she's lived in Istanbul, Greece, Kathmandu, and a tiny village in Sri Lanka. Lucio recently found Caitlin on Facebook and on a trip back home to visit her father, she saw Lucio and met his six kids, including two teenage boys, she says, look two disturbingly like he did when they were nearly married.
[To the Little Radio song by 3 Leg Torso playing]
Coming up, we visit the hometown of the Moth StorySLAM, New York City.
[To the Little Radio song by 3 Leg Torso continues]
Jay: [00:36:07] The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts, and presented by PRX.
Meg: [00:36:18] This is The Moth Radio Hour from PRX. I'm Meg Bowles, and our next story was told back in 2011 at the Housing Works in New York City. The show that night was sold out and our next storyteller, David Samplinor, couldn't get in. But when a couple of people happened to walk out, the person on the door let him in and he managed to get his name in the hat just in time. After nine stories, with just one slot remaining and many names still in the hat, David got picked. Fittingly, theme of the night was Luck. Here's David Samplinor, live at The Moth.
[applause]
David: [00:36:55] So, two weeks before my partner Rachel was due to give birth to our son, I decided that we should get married. And Rachel always wanted to be married before we had a child, but she got pregnant first. And so, we'd sort of permanently put on hold the idea of ever having a wedding. But it was the 11th hour and I decided I'm going to surprise her with this notion of going down to city hall, going to the justice of the peace, and getting married before our son arrived. And so, I broached the idea with her and she's ecstatic about it. And we decide we're going to go the very last day that we can go before our baby is due to arrive. And it's going to be Friday, May 1st. And I say, “Honey, I'm going to take care of everything.” So, I call up the wedding bureau and I get a woman on the phone and I say, “What do you have to bring downtown to get married in front of the jest of the piece?” And she says, “All you need is a picture ID and just make sure that you get there before 3:45 and the doors close.” I say, “Fantastic.” I hang up the phone. Wedding planned. [audience laughter]
So, Friday, May 1st arrives and Rachel and I are getting all gussied up in our Sunday best. And it's 2 o' clock and we're about to saunter out the door. We have plenty of time to get down to the wedding bureau. And Rachel turns to me and she asks, “Are you sure, honey, that all you need is a picture ID to get married downtown?” I said, “Yes, I'm positive.” And she immediately goes back into the apartment, turns on the computer, goes to the wedding bureau website. And as she's looking down the website, it starts to dawn on me that my research wasn't as thorough as it needed to be.
It turns out you don't just need like a driver's license to get married. It turns out you need a wedding license to have a wedding in New York State. And also, New York requires a 24-hour waiting period in between the time that you get your marriage license and the time that you're going to have your wedding to discourage any rash decisions. And I realize that we've got less than two hours before the window permanently closes on the idea that we can get married before having our child. And so, I do the only thing that I can think of doing, which is to project this aura of extreme confidence to mask this inner sinking despair. [audience chuckles] And I turn to Rachel and I say, “Honey, it's going to happen.” And I grab her by the arm, we go out the door and we hail a cab. We get down to the wedding bureau and we kind of collar this agent there and we tell her our story. And she says, “Well, it is possible to get a judge's waiver and eliminate that 24-hour waiting period. But the thing is, it's 2:30 right now, our doors close at 3:45 and the line that you need to get into to get your marriage certificate is an hour and a half.”
So, our hearts sink again. And she says, “Your only option is to trade up.” And she hands us this little paper ticket with a number on it like you get at the deli counter. So, Rachel starts parading her pregnant belly up and down the aisles of the wedding bureau. And she finds someone and they're willing to trade, but it only gets us 30 minutes ahead. So, we realized we got to trade again. So, we take our new ticket and we walk down the aisles of the wedding bureau and Rachel's parading her pregnant belly. She finds somebody else. And suddenly the hour and a half wait has shrunk to 20 minutes.
And we wait our 20 minutes. We go to the front, we get our marriage certificate, and it's now 3:10, and we still need to find a judge and get him to sign a waiver and get back inside the wedding bureau by 3:45. Well, the state courthouse building is actually right across the street, which should be no problem, except that Rachel's about to give birth. And so, across the street is like Mars. [audience chuckle] And we are crawling across the street and up what seems like 400 marble steps to the courthouse and up three flights of stairs. And we end up in the judge's chamber, and there's no judge. And the clerk takes one look at Rachel and says, “I'm going to go help you find the judge.” It's 3:36, and in walks a guy who looks a lot like a judge. [audience chuckles] And he glances over at Rachel's belly and he says, “I'll sign.” [audience laughter]
And so, we grab the sign waiver out of his hand and we rush back to the wedding bureau. And just as the clock strikes 3:45, we slide inside the door. We're ushered immediately back to a room where there's a justice of the peace. And we say our vows. And as soon as we finish saying “I do”, the lights go off in the room. [audience chuckles] We were the last wedding of the day in New York City. And so, as we're walking outside the wedding bureau after all of this and walking off into the sunset, our first moment as husband and wife. And Rachel turns to me and she says, “You are a lucky bastard.” [audience laughter] And I look back into her eyes and I say the three words that really are the only three words a husband should really ever say to his wife. And that's, “You're right, honey.” [audience chuckles]
[cheers and applause]
Meg: [00:42:00] [music playing] David Samplinor and his wife Rachel did eventually have a wedding ceremony with friends and family. And at the same time, they celebrated their son's first birthday. When they said their vows, they were holding their son Gabriel in their arms.
If you win a StorySLAM, [crowd noise] you automatically go on to tell a new story along with nine other StorySLAM winners at something we call the GrandSLAM. The first time Tara Clancy told a story at the GrandSLAM, half of Queens showed up, mostly Tara's friends and family. They took over a whole section of seats and screamed like crazy when she went up. Here's Tara Clancy live at The Moth.
[cheers and applause]
Tara: [00:42:49] All right, so when I told my father I was gay, he said, “All you need is love, sister.” And then we listened to a couple of Carole King records while making our own yogurt. [audience chuckles] Not a chance. My dad is a retired New York cop. Devout Irish catholic. He keeps a picture of the Pope hung around the rear view of his truck. Okay? And, in fact, becoming a cop was his second choice of career. His first was to be a priest. And he even went into the seminary, really hoping God would call him. Turns out he didn't. No hard feelings. My dad left, and a little while later, he met my mother and he had me. So, in essence, I am his fall from grace [audience chuckles], but I'm also an atheist, lesbian, drop in the ocean. [audience chuckles]
So, while my dad wasn't cut out for bringing God's love to the masses, he was just great at throwing them in jail. [audience chuckles] And I mean that, he was in the warrant squad, which means he was like a bounty hunter for the NYPD for 21 years. After that, he retired, but not before getting his degree at night in accounting, naturally, that being the next logical step. Priest, bounty hunter, accountant. [audience laughter] So, the only reason I thought this might have gone okay is that my dad does have some very good gay friends who he even calls old school gays. He'll brag about them, and he'll say, and they don't make them like that anymore, you know? Meaning his gays, you know? [audience laughter] But that didn't matter.
When I told him I was gay, he flipped out. He was living in Atlanta at the time I was here. And so, our phone conversation ended with him insisting I fly down there that weekend to talk in person, click. So, there I am in the passenger seat of the truck, and the only thing he has said to me is, “We're going to a hotel.” That's it. And we drive, he and I, silent, motionless, the Pope swinging left and right. [audience chuckles]
Two hours later, we're on a one lane road in the mountains. And now I'm thinking what you might be thinking. [audience chuckles] Hotel, my ass. Right? We are going to some pray the gay away Jesus camp. But just then, a billboard appears and it has a picture of a woman on it, sort of not unlike the St. Pauli Girl, you know with the braids and the beer and everything. And then it says, “Welcome to Helen, Georgia, a recreated alpine village.” [audience chuckles] And suddenly, here we are in this Disneyland, bad fake German town with windmills, and there are entire families wearing matching green hats with feathers, and this is it. This is a place my father has chosen to have the conversation of a lifetime with me. Okay? This place, where there is also something called Charlemagne's Kingdom that has three guys outside wearing lederhosen and playing glockenspiels. All right?
So, we pull into our parking space at the Heidi Motel, no shit, and head in. [audience chuckles] And then after sitting there stone faced, drinking Johnnie Walker out of our complimentary beer steins like idiots, he sets out to discover if how and why I'm gay in a room that has not one, but two cuckoo clocks. [audience laughter]
So, first, he blames me. “You're confused and you need therapy” he says, “I need therapy? I say, I need therapy. There is an Oompa band outside, dad.” [audience chuckles] Then he goes from blaming me to blaming himself. “I shouldn't have bought you those GI Joes or the Hot Wheels.” Anyway, this brings us to a little flashback to my childhood. So, my dad and I lived in a tiny studio apartment when I was a kid. Just the two of us pull out couch. And so, he starts thinking on that sort of time in our lives. And he gets a little bit quiet and he goes, “God, what did I know about bringing up a little girl? I did what I could, really, I just did what I could.”
And at that, we broke for dinner across the street at Heidelberg Schnitzelhaus. [audience laughter] We didn't say very much, but the anger was fading. And then, somewhere in between the sour broth and the strudel, my dad met his Waterloo. Literally, he just looked up at me, he raised a glass and he went, “Oh, screw it. At least now we got two things in common. Whiskey and women.” Thank you. [audience laughter]
[cheers and applause]
Meg: [00:48:24] That night, Tara Clancy won and became the New York City GrandSLAM champion. [music playing] Her father's back living in Georgia, and Tara says he's heard the story and really liked it, which for her is the best compliment because she thinks he's the greatest storyteller ever. Tara and her father have never returned to Helen, Georgia.
That's it for this hour. Thanks so much for listening and we hope you'll join us again next time for The Moth Radio Hour.
[Uncanny Valley theme music by The Drift playing]
Jay: [00:49:13] Your host this hour was Meg Bowles. The rest of The Moth’s directorial staff includes Catherine Burns, Sarah Haberman, Sarah Austin Jenness, and Jenifer Hixson, with production support from Whitney Jones. Moth stories are true as remembered and affirmed by the storytellers. Moth events are recorded by Argot Studios in New York City, supervised by Paul Ruest. Our theme music is by The Drift. Other music in this hour from Evan Christopher, Paco Flores, Gloria Gaynor, Richie Havens, 3 Leg Torso, Randy Newman, Carla Kihlstedt and Tin Hat and Freddie Price and the As-Is Brass Band. Links to all the music we use are at our website. The Moth is produced for radio by me, Jay Allison with Viki Merrick at Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts.
This hour was produced with funds from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, the National Endowment for the Arts, and the John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation committed to building a more just, verdant and peaceful world. The Moth Radio Hour is presented by the Public Radio Exchange, prx.org. To find out more about our podcast and to get information on pitching your own story and everything else, go to our website, themoth.org.