Am I Blue?

Last night was my first night back at Brother Blue and Ruth's open mic in longer than I can remember.  It is truly a privilege to be able to both attend and participate at this strange and marvelous event.  Every time I go, I have the chance to grow as a teller.  How wonderful to see and feel the friendly faces of fellow tellers beaming upon me as I find my way through my latest "discovery".  

This time I tried out a Nigerian-Yoruban folk tale that captured my interest quite some time ago, about a brash young man and a talking skull that teaches him a tough lesson.  (Anyone know this one?  I'm planning on researching it further, I think it has a lot to teach me....)  Part-way through, I realized that I was telling this West African tale as if it was a jewish joke!?!  I've been telling so many of those lately - as I always do this time of year - because of Passover.  Funny how things spill over from one telling to another; in my mind, stories are so inter-connected with each other, I sometimes find it hard to separate them!  But strangely, it is by means of my mental "web" that I remember each one of them so distinctly........

Tonight we had our annual Passover seder, and as usual we told silly Jewish jokes to help keep us going until we could eat.

What's the difference between matzoh and cardboard?

Cardboard doesn't leave crumbs on the carpet!

What did the seder plate say to the matzoh?  Dinner's on me!        

Hey, I didn't say they were good jokes.  I found a "Bag of Plagues" which everybody enjoyed.  And the matzoh ball soup was the best it's ever been!  Now I am STUFFED.  One thing about matzoh, it is very, er, filling.  Anyone who eats enough of it learns the hard way the true meaning behind Moses's famous words: "Let my people go!"  Hence the necessity of adding prunes to the Passover brisket.

Happy Passover!

On Saturday my mother's clan celebrated my grandmother's 85th birthday in Baltimore (at left, you can see her at about age 2).  Naturally, we ate crabcakes and chocolate, and we all sang my ridiculous re-write of "Tradition" from Fiddler on the Roof.  My grandmother is still beautiful at 85, despite having recently finished chemo treatments for lymphoma.  I can only hope that I look half that good at her age.  But at least she has passed on to me her love of books, along with chocolate-lust and good taste in men.  Too bad I didn't also inherit her slender figure, but we can't have everything in life!

I told the story of "Grandmother Spider" (found in Choctaw, Cherokee and Kiowa traditions) in her honor on Saturday night, and it inspired my grandfather to tell a story!!  His telling was so priceless, I just have to pass it on.  Not that I can do him justice, but here goes:

***WARNING*** The following story is rated PG-13***

"Once upon a time all the dogs of the world had a conference.  At the doors of the conference room, there were many pegs on which people could hang their coats.  The dogs didn't have coats, so they hung their @ssholes on the pegs, and then went in.  While they were having their conference, there was a fire.  In the panic and confusion, all the dogs ran out of the conference room and grabbed whatever @sshole they could find.  And that's why, to this day, whenever dogs meet each other, they sniff each others' @ssholes, trying to find their original one."

Watching my grandfather tell a story - and tell it, moreover, with joy and enthusiasm - was a truly moving experience for me, so much so that I could almost forgive him for his inappropriate choice of language in front of my daughter.  At 88, he's earned the right to do or say almost anything.  I just hope his great granddaughter doesn't pick this one for Sharing Time at school someday...........

 

"Guess what my great grampa told me!"

Storytelling with 4-year-olds is fun!

In April of 2007 I had the wonderful opportunity of leading a storytelling workshop for pre-school children at the Cambridge Montessori School during their April Vacation Program. We all had a blast!

Concerts in May

My husband, Curtis, is gearing up for a couple of big performances of several of his pieces in early May.  Naturally, he is nervous. 

 

Curtis, however, takes the art of being nervous to new heights.  

I'd say he's about here now: 

By next week he'll be about here:   Note the coffee.  This is entirely normal for him, and I'm sure plenty of other composers can relate.  Writing music is like gestating and then birthing a baby... and then handing it over to someone else to take care of.  He has to place his trust entirely in the performers, in this case, these folks:

The Radius Ensemble is an incredibly talented and joyous bunch of folks, and totally capable of playing the cr@p out of anything he hands them, so I think it will be fine.  That being said, I am very thankful that, as a Storyteller, I am in charge of my own performances!  From start to finish, it is entirely up to ME and no one else, to see a story through from beginning to end.  If I screw up, no one else is to blame.  And if I can make the audience laugh - or at least chuckle - I can take that with me, too.

I hope lots of folks get to Brother Blue and Ruth Hill's Tuesday Night Storytelling open mic tonight at 7pm.  I'm sorry that I won't be there, since a lot of great storytellers will be present and telling, like Loren Niemi and Mary Stewart.  These artists are not to be missed.... unless, like yours truly, you are solely responsible for a small child for the evening.  

My girl and I plan to have our own storytelling session tonight, during bath time.  And then we will almost certainly read the next chapter of Anne of Green Gables, which is not to be underestimated as mere children's fiction.  No, this book is the genuine article: literature.  I highly recommend it.

Blue + Ruth + all of you: I'll be with you in spirit tonight!

Nifty looking NSN grant

Hmmm, the NSN 2009 Brimstone Award for Applied Storytelling looks like a good grant for storytellers interested in community-based work.........

Sharing the Fire

I'm just back from Sharing the Fire, a wonderful annual conference sponsored by LANES (that's the League for the Advancement of New England Storytellers), and as usual, I had a wonderful time!  This was my third year at STF, and even though I still feel like a newbie, everybody is unfailingly kind and generous with their time and assistance, and I learned a LOT.  Plus I got to tell my recent crop of dirty Jewish jokes, and sing my new favorite folk song in Irish !?!  For a cool Reggae version, sung much better than I could ever do it, check out Sinead O'Connor giving it up on youtube singing it, it's called "Oro sé do bheatha 'bhaile" (no, it's not pronounced the way you think).

STF is more than just my annual solo vacation.  True, late-night parties with Tony Toldeo, hot-tubbing with Laura Packer, and getting back-rubs and sly winks from Jim LaChapelle are definite perks.  But STF is also, ahem, a growth experience for me.  That's not to say that I didn't eat a lot (I did); it's just that I also had the chance to 

a) try out telling a new story in a hot tub

b) hear many sides of controversial and current issues in the storytelling community

c) play

d) listen to some very smart and eloquent people talk and tell

e) see people wear moose hats

and that's not something you can say about the average vacation.  I consider myself very lucky.  Now I have to go transfer the laundry, we'll talk more later.