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
And now, the wrap-up…
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.
Our next free online workshop is May 3. Click on the link below if you’re working on a story and would like some feedback.
I hope to see you all next month at the Sweidhs Club on the 21st!
Paul
Freshgroundstories at gmail dot com
Fresh Ground Stories 