Martyr’s

Louder Than a Mom (Martyr’s) and Story Lab Chicago (Mrs. Murphy’s and Sons) – April 16 and 18, 2018

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At Martyr’s, as with the last time I was there (see blog of March 19), my friend Terry and I were two of only a handful of men in the audience and again there was only one male story teller (this time Terry). Other than Terry, who is always funny, the highlights were the woman who told about giving herself a Brazilian wax and the woman who told how she cut a cast off her mother’s leg in the bathroom when she was a child. It wasn’t a show for the faint of heart.

Two days later, at Mrs. Murphy’s, it was my turn to tell a story. Nine friends came in support, one just back from a month in New Zealand. She won the hypothetical prize for farthest traveled to see the show.

I was pleased that the audience laughed at my story in all the right places. One never knows when rehearsing to an empty living room at home. I also wasn’t displeased by the compliments I received afterward from imperfect strangers (nobody’s perfect).

As for the other story tellers at Mrs. Murphy’s, one has green hair and told a story about her vaudevillian mother Topsy, which included mention of intercourse on top of a bar immediately following a bar room brawl. You have to love that.

I also took some small measure of satisfaction from the fact that one of the other story tellers adopted two minor suggestions for additional humor I gave him for his story at the prep session (perhaps my life’s dream to be a script joke doctor can still come true).

And, because I couldn’t help myself, I also had suggested at the prep session that someone else not look up at the ceiling so much while telling her story, which advice she took by instead closing her eyes for much of the time she was talking. I think she missed my point. And perhaps I should leave directing to others.

Louder Than a Mom – Martyr’s – March 19, 2018

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I went to see my former storytelling teacher (see my January blog about the class) tell a story, proving beautifully, at least in her case, that those who teach, also can do. Martyr’s is the fourth different venue I have been to for storytelling. Four down, a hundred zillion to go.

The quality of the storytelling was high and the humor was rampant. Not knowing how crowded it would be, my friends and I got there two hours before showtime. No one else showed up for another hour. This allowed us to get the full attention of the waitress and acclimate ourselves to the almost complete lack of lighting in the venue. It’s not a good place to go if you have cataracts. Our smart phone flashlights really came in handy for reading the limited menu.

Next time I’ll eat somewhere else first. They didn’t even have mustard, though at least, unlike the restaurant the night before, they weren’t out of chicken. We all agreed that ketchup on chicken was a nonstarter, although the waitress said she has witnessed it. Perhaps she can get counseling for that trauma.

My former teacher, MT, introduced us to one of the hosts of the event, Kate, who encouraged us to tell a story at a future event. Though one of my friends and I were two of perhaps six men, one of whom was the bartender, at this well-attended event, Kate assured us that we would be welcome additions and that you don’t need to be a mom to participate. In fact, one of the eight speakers that night was a man, though his story was about the birth of his child, so, you know, kind of a mom story. Actually, he gets a pass on that as his story was about how ugly newborns are. (If you need a refresher on the Seinfeld episode, the Hamptons, about a “breathtaking” baby, you can find the script at http://www.seinfeldscripts.com/TheHamptons.htm).