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- [00:00]
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- [02:10]
Dan Kennedy
Welcome to the Moth Podcast. I'm Dan Kennedy. The Moth is True stories told live on stage. This week we bring you two Slam stories and for those of you that don't know our story Slams are our open mic storytelling competitions. The first story you're about to hear by Peter Hyman was recorded live at a New York Moth story slam in 2010. The theme of the night was tradition.
- [02:41]
Peter Hyman
I found my son's foreskin at tax time. It had been sitting in my inbox on my desk, wrapped and gauzed and put into an envelope which is where it had been for about the Past year, when the moyel gave it to me following his bris the day of his baris. So this is what that story is about, the tradition of circumcision. So anyway, I found it and I needed to do something with it. And I remember asking the moil on the day of his bris, what's this? And he said, nathaniel's foreskin. As though he were telling me the score of a baseball game or something like that. And I said, well, why? Why do I need this? And he said, well, so that you can return it to the earth. And also so that when Nathaniel finds a nice Jewish girl to marry, he can go to this tree and take a branch for his wedding chuppah, which is a canopy in how Jews speak. That's how Jews say canopy. Anyway, so he told me this, and I didn't really know what to do with this information. My wife and I had never really heard of this tradition, but it sounded kind of on paper like a fine ritual, you know, rich in circle of life mythology and this agrarian symbolism. Assuming one could get past handling bloody waste taken from an 8 day old's penis. A screaming 8 day old. So of course we decided to do it, to bury it. But unfortunately, we were wrapped up into the sleep deprived business of actually taking care of and raising this child and we forgot about it. And then tax time rolled around and I was reacquainted with my son's only major deduction of 2008. Terrible. It's awful. Tax humor is usually pretty funny. Anyway, so I found it and I kind of like. We resolved to heed the Moyles decree. We were really passionate about doing this because we wanted our son to realize he was tied to 6,000 years of pain and bloodshed and locked based buffets on the Upper east side. But the dilemma that it raised was, where do we bury this foreskin? Because like most of you and most New Yorkers, we don't have a yard. We had no trees. We don't even have house plants. So we live in Brooklyn. So eventually we decided on Prospect park, which is a very beautiful place and it's home to 30,000 trees. So finding one we figured wouldn't be that difficult. So a couple weeks after making this decision, my dog and I, late at night, it was a May night, it was kind of chilly, I recall. We crept furtively through the park. You know, we didn't want to be seen. There's actually a rule in this city code that doesn't prohibit burying or digging, but it prohibits carrying items Used for gardening in New York City parks. I'm serious. So I had gone to Home Depot and bought this little shovel that would fit into a messenger bag so I wouldn't get discovered. So the park was somewhat empty. There were a few stray joggers, some dudes kind of finishing up a late night soccer game, but no one, thank God it seemed, who would arrest me. So I went into the center of the park. If you know Prospect park, there's an area called the Nethermead, which is actually very popular, and it's a nice place for ultimate Frisbee. So I was looking around and there were these huge, giant towering oaks and there were these little saplings covered by their protective fencing. And there didn't seem to be the right tree. And my own resolution to myself was if I was going to follow this tradition and bury my only child's. The tip of my only child's penis on a cold night, I wanted to find the right tree, which I'm sure you can understand. So my dog was with me and she chased this squirrel and chased the squirrel to the base of what appeared to be a maple tree. I grew up in Michigan, so I know a little bit about trees, because in the Midwest everyone's kind of a farmer. So anyway. Or that's what people here think. So anyway, he was at this tree and it looked very nice. It was very green and verdant, but its lowest branches hung to the ground, forming kind of a protective layer. Had I been a younger man, I might have been prompted to climb the tree. It was that type of tree. It was the kind of tree you would have climbed. So I looked around to make sure that no one was watching me and took the shovel out and started digging into the cold earth. And the metal blade hit the ground with a crisp thwack. And it felt good to be involved in this kind of minor act of labor. And a few minutes later I had a one foot deep hole. And I wasn't sure whether this was deep enough. I didn't know if there was a Talmudic decree, and if so, it was probably measured in cubits. So it wouldn't have done me much good. But I just assumed that this would be deep enough. So I unpacked the gauze and opened up the for the first time and took a look at my son's 11 month old foreskin. And it actually had the appearance of a guitar pick. Basically it was about that size. And it sort of looked like a crisp piece of bacon, a little bit dried out. I put it to my nose and there was no odor. So. And then I very, very carefully wrapped it back up and knelt and placed it into the hole. And it was sacred. This was a moment. And so I covered it back up and stomped on the ground and reburied it. And I, at the point, at that time, said a brief prayer which was a mixture of the Shema and Bob Dylan's Shelter from the Storm that I invented right there on the spot. Then I backed away and I kind of wasn't sure I was going to remember it, so I hastily drew a. A map noting landmarks and the best descriptor for the tree I could come up with was big and bushy. And when my son comes of age, I'm going to pass this document onto him and he'll be the holder of this information because I suspect that at some point he'll return to this in 30 odd years and cut down a branch. And I only hope I'm there to receive the frantic phone call I receive when he tells me he's been arrested for the crime of abuse to trees. At which point we'll plead for religious tolerance, blame the moil, and try to keep the whole thing a secret from his mother. Thank you very much.
- [08:55]
Dan Kennedy
Peter Hyman is the author of the Reluctant Dispatches from an Almost Hip Life. His essays appeared in various anthologies including the best American essays 2010 and Bar Mitzvah Disco. He's written for the New York Times, New York Magazine, GQ, McSweeney's, NPR and Slate.com. the next story you're about to hear by Michelle Weldon was recorded live at the Moth Story Slam in Chicago. Here's Michelle.
- [09:31]
Michelle Weldon
I lied about the reindeer. I lied about Chuck E. Cheese, this crazy combination of Mickey and King Kong. I lied that I was allergic to all animals, including fish. Truth is, it's just cats and some long haired dogs. But I did what I had to do. I have my reasons. I'm a single mother of three sons, raising them alone. Soul support. I lied to get through their childhoods. Okay, so it's Christmas time. They're 8, 6 and 3. Two of them believe in Santa Claus, in every fiber of their being. And this year I'm doing it up big. No more clothes, shoes, pajamas. Do you know how much boys don't want clothes for Christmas? I'm gonna buy them bikes. I'm gonna get them new bikes. Because mostly, and we're not poor or anything, but I'm a journalist and a professor, so guess how that goes. We don't have new Cars. And we don't go to Europe and the Bahamas like all my neighbors do, it seems like for President's Day. And I get them new bikes and I keep them in my sister's garage because it's got to be a surprise, you know. On Christmas Eve we have my family party. It's going really well. I have a couple of glasses of wine, get the boys home, get them in bed, they're asleep. By 11:00, about midnight, my brother in law, Mike comes over with the bikes and his van pulls in the driveway. It's this perfect Christmas Eve. It's snowing, it's cold, it's crisp, it's quiet. It's like movie Christmas Eve. And I'm feeling like I am superwoman. I am pulling this off. I can do it all. I can surprise him. I can do it. Mike And I get the bikes out of the van. He says, do you want me to help you get them in the house? I say, no, no, no. How weird would it be? They look out the window and your van is in the driveway at midnight. No, go, go, go. Gotta be quiet. Gotta get him in the house. So I get the first bike in the house and it's this red 10 speed racer for Weldon. And he's gonna love it. And I get it in the house and I'm so excited. And the other two bikes are down there. And I start going down the wooden steps and I pick up Brendan's bike and I fall flat on my butt and I scream and I cry. And I'm swearing and I'm thinking, oh my God, I broke my tailbone. Should I call for the neighbors? And I think, no, they're probably in Europe like they always are. And I say, no, I'll just see how bad it is. And I cry a little more and I swear a little more. And I'm laying there and I'm like, it's not so bad. So I get the other two bikes in the house and I get all three bikes under the Christmas tree, get a bag of frozen peas to put on my butt and go to bed. 6:00 in the morning, Brendan comes running and says, mom, Mom, I heard Santa on the porch last night. He was swearing at the reindeer. I never told. I lied about Chuck E. Cheese just a little bit. Anybody who's ever been there knows why I did it. The only great thing you can say about Chuck E. Cheese is they serve drinks. But they make the parents of the guests stay the whole time for the whole party. So after I'VE been through like four or five Chuck E. Cheese parties. I decide, okay, I gotta come up with my own lie about this. And I say, you can't just go to a Chuck E. Cheese. You gotta be invited. You can't just walk in. So Colin looks at me and says, I don't think so, Mom. Tommy went last Friday with his dad. They just walked. He said they crashed a party. So I never really lied about anything big. I never lied how much I love them. I just was trying to make their lives better and trying to make them full of joy and pure, but okay. The one thing I did lie about that was pretty big was in 2006. There were 12 days between the time I was diagnosed with breast cancer and the time I had surgery. And I decided I wasn't going to tell them until I absolutely had to till the night before. So that whole span of 10 days, I was acting really weird. And my sisters keep coming over and all these people are calling. And Weldon, my oldest, says, you know, what's going on, Mom? I say, nothing, nothing, nothing. Everything's fine. Everything's good. You know, he's filling out his college application, and my middle son, Brendan, was looking for his backpack. And Colin, well, you know, he's just too sweet. I didn't want to burden him with anything by himself, so I didn't tell. So I didn't sleep a whole lot those 10 days. And then the day before the surgery, in the morning, it's a bad day at home. Brendan, who still can't find his backpack, is screaming and swearing and fighting with the other tools. So there's this three way circle of boy fighting happening, and everybody's hitting everybody. Everybody's stupid and everybody's awful, and I hate you and hate you, Mom. And I'm kind of at the end of my rope and I'm thinking, okay, just gotta get them to calm down. And I ask them a million times to stop fighting and to please stop. And I get the older two in the car to drive them to high school. And it's not getting any better. They're still fighting and yelling at each other and swearing and pulling out of the driveway, get onto Lathrop Avenue. I'm driving to the high school, and Weldon reaches back and swats Brendan on the head. And I can't take it anymore. So I say, stop it. I have cancer, okay? So maybe Dr. Phil and Oprah would not think this was the best thing to do. Okay? So there's total silence in the car. Their eyes are as big as fists and nobody says a word and I start babbling and crying. I say, really, I didn't want to tell you, but I'm going to be fine. It's okay. And I'll be home tomorrow night and they don't even keep you over and really, I'm going to be fine. Not a word. Four miles to the high school. Not a word. So we get to the high school, they open the door and I say, bye boys. Have a nice day. Okay? So I'm not really proud of that. That was like historic bad mommy moment. But I tried not to have too many of those and I tried. I never really lied about how much I loved them and I told them each that I loved them differently. So that wasn't a lie. So I don't win any Mother of the Year awards. Not that year and maybe not any year before or since. But you know the really funny thing? Colin, my youngest on his cell phone. You know the one that's significantly nicer than mine on the contact list, I'm Mama Bear. No lie.
- [16:16]
Dan Kennedy
Michelle Weldon is an assistant professor of journalism at the Medill School at Northwestern University. She's published three nonfiction books and recently completed her fourth. She's written for Chicago Tribune, Huffington Post, Los Angeles Times, Newsday, and hundreds of other outlets. A mother of three sons, she lives in Chicago and just one more reminder, for those of you in the Detroit area, the Grand Slam will be coming your way on September 19th at the Gem Theater. Make sure you get your tickets because they're going fast. Visit the Moth for more details. And if you're looking for the latest news from the Moth, including information about our tour shows across the country, visit our recently redesigned website, themoth.org and also the moth is a non profit organization. So consider supporting our free podcast by going to our podcast contribution page or by becoming a Moth member and you can do that@themost.org Our podcast host, Dan.
- [17:18]
Michelle Weldon
Kennedy is the author of the book Rock An Office Power Ballad. Learn more@rockonthebook.com thanks to all of you.
- [17:25]
Dan Kennedy
For listening and we hope you have a story worthy week. Podcast Audio production by Paul Ruest at the Argo Studios in New York Podcast hosting by PRX Public Radio Exchange Helping make public radio more public@prx.org.