The MothUP At Foam

There is a fellow living in New York who fondly remembered story-telling sessions when he was growing up in Georgia.  Back then, people would sit on their porches in the warm Georgia evenings and tell tales.  As they sat there, the porch light would attract moths.

He wanted to re-create those story-telling evenings and invited people to come to his New York apartment and tell tales: the tales must be true life experiences, told without notes.  The time limit is 10 minutes.  He called this event a MothUP.

It became the hottest literary event in New York.  Now MothUps have spread across the country, and we have one in St. Louis. 

Our MothUP is at Foam.  Foam serves drinks with foam on top.  Beer.  And for the non-beer-drinkers, they serve coffee drinks with foam on top.

I was invited to be a speaker at the January MothUP, even though I had never been to a MothUP before.  I arrived a half hour early and found 80 chairs set up, but only 5 people in the audience.  My confidence was high – I could speak to an audience of 5.

However, at performance time, the 80 chairs were full; plus there were 35 people standing.  My confidence began to wane when I saw how big the audience was.  My confidence waned further when I noticed how hip the audience looked.  Then my confidence grew smaller when I realized that I was the only person in the room over the age of 35.

There was an emcee, two sound men, one still cameraman, one video cameraman, and two judges.  The presenters for the evening were not told in what order they would speak.

The first presenter was a crowd favorite.  She was telling a story about exploring a deserted barn on a dark scary night.  The audience was roaring in laughter.  I thought she was excellent---a hard act to follow.

Harder to follow because she was about 28-years-old, and she was talking like a 28-year-old, to an audience with an average age of 28.  I am 67-years-old and talk like I am 67 years old; my confidence disappeared.

I was the fifth presenter.  I stood in front of the packed room at Foam and told about my first night in Kano, Nigeria.  I talked about the impact of seeing a Ninth Century city surrounded by a Twelfth Century wall, a city of mud houses lit mostly by kerosene.  

I talked about how I vowed to feel at home in this utterly exotic place.

The audience sat quietly, sipping their beers and lattes.

I finished my story, describing how I fulfilled my vow.  I left the stage, wondering if anyone in such a young and hip audience would applaud.

They not only applauded, some people shook my hand and patted me on the back.  The judges liked me; they declared me the winner.

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NOTE: Doug's best stories have been collected into a book: Puppy Out Of Breath.  Price = $11.  You can purchase a copy at  http://www.puppyoutofbreath.com