≈ Comments Off on FGS: Stories of someone surprising you (6/18/2026)
Just when I think I have someone figured out, they surprise me. Most of the time, it’s a beautiful reminder that I’m not in charge of the world and that there’s more sweetness in the world than I think there is. An unexpected apology, a kiss on a first date, a compliment from someone I didn’t think was listening. All good things that make me look forward to life.
Some things are just weird and make me wonder if I’ve been paying attention. My son coming home with a shaved head. Overhearing people at work hating on someone I like.
And then there are the ones that you swore would never happen. My brother and I started talking to each other after years of silence. An old friend and I stopped talking to each other. Maybe one day we’ll surprise each other and start again.
Every one of these moments could be a story. The easiest way to come up with a story is to start with a moment that meant something to you. Once you have that, write down all the memories that have something to do with that moment, both before and after it. Then choose 2-3 of those memories to be the story.
Come tell us about a time when someone surprised you. Try to focus on a person rather than a thing. Unless you were hit by lightning. I would love to hear a story about being hit by lightning. But generally, a story about a person who surprised you will reveal more about yourself than a thing that surprised you. Of course, our themes are just suggestions, so you can tell a story about almost anything as long as it follows our usual rules and guidelines.
Whatever the story, we’d love to hear it. Remember that a story isn’t just a series of things that happened. There needs to be something at stake that you overcome by the end.
Practice the story out loud to as many people as possible and time yourself when you’re doing it. Please don’t get onstage if you haven’t practiced your story. The audience is giving you their time and attention. It’s not fair to them if you get up there and try to wing it.
All stories have to be under eight minutes. Stories can be as short as you want, but no longer than eight minutes. Stories also have to be clean in both language and content. Send me an email if you have any questions about that.
Our free monthly online workshop is a great place to get feedback on your story.
What a week of stories! We had FGS on Thursday, and the Folklife story showcase on Friday. Thanks to everyone who came out to one or both of those shows.
Before I go any further, I need to ask a quick favor. Can you please forward this email to freshgroundstories@gmail.com if you bought a membership to the Swedish Club in the past year? I know how many I’ve given away at the show, but I don’t know how many folks paid for one themselves. So if you or a friend or family member got one just to support FGS and the club, let me know by forwarding this email to me and letting me know how many you signed up for. Thanks!
Ok, back to the shows…
If you’ve been attending for a while, you know that my favorite part of any show is when a first-timer walks up to the mic. I know how hard it is to speak to a room full of strangers, especially when you’re saying something personal. All four first-timers we had Thursday night nailed their story. Thank you, Jose, Ed, Eric, and Nick. I loved each one of your stories and hope you come back and tell more with us. Write me if you’d like your audio.
Our regular tellers that night were just as inspiring. Cliff’s story was so moving to me that I almost proposed to my girlfriend from the stage. I didn’t, of course, because she would hate that, and then I’d probably have to find another girlfriend. But I did enjoy the look of terror on her face when I talked about doing it. I’m pretty sure she was laughing when I said it. Did anyone look over? Was that a smile or a grimace pretending to be a smile?
Cliff’s story had nothing to do with marriage. It was about doing something you’re not used to doing and what it felt like to do it anyway. In Cliff’s case, it was a quick decision to move from Washington DC to Seattle. As I listened to the story, my body shook loose a fear I didn’t know I had of being trapped with the wrong person for the rest of my life. I don’t know why this story made me think of that, but it hit me so hard that I had a sudden urge to marry my girlfriend, who was sitting one row behind me. Luckily, I came to my senses by the time I got to the mic and managed to admit to the urge without giving in to it.
That’s what stories do to us. They bring up stuff that might have nothing to do with what’s going on in the story. As scary as that moment was for me and then Marni, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. That’s why I keep running this show and telling my stories. I don’t get those moments anywhere else.
Cliff was just one of our regular tellers that night. We also heard from Craig, Lance (welcome back!), Brian, and David. (I hope I didn’t forget anyone)
I could tell from the number of names in Mr. Coffee that we wouldn’t have time to get everyone on stage that night, so I want to extend my extra-special thanks to the folks who let me know that it was ok to bump them. That helps me a lot. I feel terrible when I have to bump people, even though I give them a guaranteed spot on any future show. It still sucks to work on a story and not get to tell it. So thanks to everyone who let me know ahead of time.
Even more thanks to everyone who showed up at the Folklife story showcase Friday. What a treat to tell stories in a theater! All but one of the tellers were regulars at FGS. The only one who hadn’t done our show was Tom Rawson from Canada. He killed it that night. I told him the next time he comes down, it needs to be a third Thursday. You will love Tom when I finally get him to our show. Big thanks to Joanna Demarest, the folklife story coordinator, for making it all happen. I hope we can do it again next year.
That’s all for now. Our next show is June 18. The theme is “Stories of people surprising you.” I’ll get the invite out as soon as I can.
I hope you’re all having a great long weekend. I have to go install a sump pump now.
Last year, we heard one of the most unusual stories we’ve ever had at FGS. A man I’d never seen before got up and told a story about starting a terramation funeral business that changed his life. Terramation, we learned, is the process of turning human remains into nutrient-rich soil.
What started as a project focused on the ecological benefits of composting over cremation became a place where loved ones can slowly and naturally return to the earth. It was an amazing story of how Micah, the founder, realized the process was more about humans than technology.
Two days ago, I learned that a documentary about Micah’s journey is being shown at the Seattle Film Festival on Saturday, May 16. I am so happy for him! We knew his story was special the night he told it, and I’m thrilled to find out it’s on film now. Here’s a quick blurb from the website:
“An ambitious entrepreneur and two funeral directors pioneer a groundbreaking eco-friendly deathcare facility in Washington state, challenging traditional burial practices and transforming end-of-life rituals.
Advance tickets are sold out, but there are standby tickets still available. Here’s the info on that:
“A Standby line will form at the venue, usually one hour before showtime. At approximately 10 minutes before showtime, available seats are counted and sold on a first-come, first-served basis to those in line.
Standby tickets are sold only to those waiting in the Standby line at the time of sale.”
If you can’t make it to the theater for standby tickets, you can check out the business site here: https://returnhome.com/
I never know who is going to show up on any given night, but I always hear at least one story that I need to hear. I hope you can join us at our next show this Thursday, May 21, at 7pm on the top floor of the Swedish Club. The theme is Losing It – Stories of being out of control. https://www.meetup.com/fresh-ground-stories/events/314480178
≈ Comments Off on FGS: Losing It – Stories of being out of control 5-21-2026
The reason I’ll never skydive isn’t that I’m worried that the chute won’t open and the ground crew will find my body, feet sticking up out of the grass like a lawn dart. It’s that I don’t like being told what to do. And as soon as you step out of the plane, gravity tells you exactly what you’re going to do for the next 10-15 minutes. There’s no discussion, no listening to reason. You’re going to be falling at 176 feet per second until you pull that cord.
That’s why it’s always interesting to me how I react when I’m truly out of control. I like to go back and think about why I did what I did. I was proud of myself a few years ago when I had to give the Heimlich to a guy choking next to me at a lunch counter. I stood up, knocked his gut in a couple times, then sat down and went back to my omelet.
I wasn’t proud of myself when I broke my hand punching a wall at 19, when I found out my girlfriend was stepping out on me. I also wasn’t proud of myself when I had a complete mental breakdown in 2012, when the world fell out from under me. I told that story two years later. It ended with a moment in my kitchen that brought me back to life and made me want to see what happened next. I’m still thinking about that time, and hope I’ve learned enough skills that it doesn’t happen again.
I’d love to hear about a time when you or your life were out of control and how you made it through. How did you act in the moment? Were you cool as a Bering Sea ice floe or did you lose your mind and kick a bunch of rocks? Were you dumped? Fired? Evicted? Given a diagnosis? How did you react in the moment and how did you find your way back to Chillsville?
Whatever the story, we’d love to hear it. Remember that a story isn’t just a series of things that happened. There needs to be something at stake that you overcome by the end.
Practice the story out loud to as many people as possible and time yourself when you’re doing it. Please don’t get onstage if you haven’t practiced your story. The audience is giving you their time and attention. It’s not fair to them if you get up there and try to wing it.
All stories have to be under eight minutes. Stories can be as short as you want, but no longer than eight minutes. Stories also have to be clean in both language and content. Send me an email if you have any questions about that.
FGS themes are just suggestions, so you can come out and tell a story about anything as long as it follows our usual rules and guidelines.
Before I get to the wrap-up of last week’s show, I want to remind everyone that ABBA night is happening this Friday at the Swedish Club. Get your tickets here for the show we’ve been waiting a year for 🙂
My girlfriend Marni and I already have our tickets and are discussing what we’re going to do if we discover that one of us dances funny. Relationships have crumbled under lesser revelations, so we’re preparing for the worst. We’ve decided if one of us dances in a way that brings shame upon the family, we will squeeze that person’s hand three times and then quickly walk back to the table. Whichever one of us is funny dancing will slowly dance over to the opposite side of the room, then walk nonchalantly back to the table, where we will stay seated for the rest of the evening. And then we will never speak of this night again. That’s our plan if one of us is a funny dancer. Hopefully, we’ll find that we are relatively equal in dance talent and the only people we embarrass on the dance floor will be our kids.
If you want to see how this all plays out in real time, get your tickets and come say hi
First up was Andres with the best story we’ve heard about the fun fact you have to come up with at almost every workplace icebreaker. I love stories about the tiny moments in our lives that we all experience but never talk about. Here’s a fun fact about FGS. If your babysitting plans fall through, you can bring your two-and-a-half-year-old son onstage with you while you tell a story. Andres, you and your son are always welcome here. My secret wish is that one day, when he’s older, he’ll tell his own story with us.
Next up was Kelly, our only first-timer of the night. She told a story about catfishing a catfish on Tinder. I heartily support this! I love any story where the conman gets conned. Maybe one day we’ll do a whole show called, “Turnabout is fair play.” Thanks for telling your first story with us, Kelly. I hope you had fun and come back and tell again.
After Kelly was Deborah with a story about being a nostalgia junkie and how that can lead to finding that the past may not be as great as you remember. In a twist at the end, she realizes that no matter what the past was really like, those memories made her what she is, a storyteller.
Next up was Susie, whose story was a love letter to New York City. It was the saddest story of the night because we learned she’s moving to NYC. As much as we’ll miss her, I know she’s going to tell some great stories there, and maybe one day we’ll be listening to her on a certain podcast we all love.
Next was Ariel with a story I’ve waited months for. It’s the story of how she came to be named Ariel. It wasn’t the name she was born with, it’s one she chose recently. One of the things that makes FGS special is that we slowly get to know each other over time. Ariel’s only been telling with us for about a year, but each time she walks onstage she reveals a little more about herself. This is one of the gifts of personal storytelling. We don’t get to become best friends with everyone we meet in life, but sometimes listening to an honest story, told with humility, is enough to make us feel like we’re not alone. Thank you, Ariel, for always sharing just enough of your life to make us feel like we’re all together in this.
Next up was a surprise teller, my son, Taran. He purposely never tells me if he’s going to throw his name in Mr. Coffee because he treasures the look of fear on my face when I pull his name out. I have no reason to be scared because he’s always done great. I’m incredibly proud of him as a storyteller, but any parent will tell you that there’s always a little fear when your kid walks up to a microphone with a story that might include you. That night, he told a story about teaching his cousin to ride a bike and how worried he was that he was taking a memory away from her dad. It was sweet and touching and pure Taran.
Debbie came next with a story about growing up near her cousin, who lived down the street. It was a story that began with anger and bullies and smashed up watermelons. In the end, it was a story about the danger of judging people without knowing the full story. It’s hard to withhold judgment when we’re hurting. Every story, every conclusion we come to, feels justified. If we’re lucky, we live long enough to find out the truth and maybe a little compassion.
Sean was up next with a story of going to his 50-year reunion. His graduating class had 92 kids, so everyone knew everyone. Fifty years later, a lot of them were still around. One of the lines that sticks with me a week later is that the kids always said that he was the smart one. The assumption was that he would go on to do well in life. He did, but he said it had more to do with all the support he got from his family. That hit me pretty hard. I, too, had a reputation in school as being the smart kid. I know from experience that it’s not what’s in your head that helps you succeed. It’s the people you keep around you that make the difference. Thank you, Sean, for your honesty in saying that. I know I wasn’t the only one in the audience that night who felt that way.
Gretchen was next with a story of growing up in a small nuclear family that didn’t have a strong connection to any of their blood relatives. Throughout her life, she always wondered what it would be like to have relationships with cousins and uncles and aunts and such. Then one day, decades into her adulthood, she found herself on a Zoom call with a cousin who looked like her, talked like her, and laughed like her. There she was, a true blood relative. Checking in years later, looking to connect over a vacation in the San Juans.
Cliff then told a story about taking care of his mother after she took a fall in her later years. Sometimes the best gift we can receive is to get the chance to repay the kindnesses we were given by others. There’s something about Cliff’s voice that makes his stories get inside you. I could hear in his voice that night the gratitude he felt for being able to finally give to his mom what she so freely gave to him when he was growing up.
Our second-to-last teller was Auntmama with a story 70 years in the making. It happened between World War II and plastic, as Auntmama said that night. The story wove through the hollers of the Appalachians, the factories of nearby towns, and a bowling alley named Victory Lanes. I can’t do the story justice here, but you must believe me when I say we were transported back in time to a place and a world that no one in that room had ever seen. That’s what Auntmama does. She time-travels and takes us with her. She builds a world that once was, takes us through the alleys and diners of her life, and brings us back to now, where we look around and down at our hands and wonder why we feel so different.
Our final teller of the night was Saloni. She told a beautiful story about giving up on love and then love sneaking back into her life in the form of a good man, a plate of lentils, and a series of “small, grand gestures.” We only know her sweetheart as Guy #5, but we were all kinda swooning over him by the end of that story. Congratulations, Guy 5. Saloni is a wonderful woman, and you’re a lucky guy.
That was our show from last Thursday. If you missed it, we’ll be back on May 21. The theme for that one is “Stories of being out of control.”
If you can’t wait a month for more stories, go see our friends at 7 Stories in Burien this Friday. I love this show and the people who run it.
Fresh Ground Stories 