"We use deference to show moral superiority." Garrison Keillor said of Midwesterners this past Tuesday night. He wore red samba soccer shoes and a black tux to the Moth Ball, a black and white affair. He brushed past me a few times during the set up and I wanted to jump on his grandfatherly back for a piggy back ride so I could whisper in his ear how integral his maple syrup voice was to my childhood...but that would have been creepy. Garrison loves New York, and he loves to make comparisons between New Yorkers and Midwesterners, so I felt right at home standing in my schmancy raven black attire. The Moth is a non-profit storytelling organization that I've become smitten with in the past few months, and the motto is "You, a microphone, and a story." The story Slams are my favorite, where each storyteller has only 5 minutes to get their tale out to the greedy, judgmental audience. Garrison commented that this is how New Yorkers are: always in a hurry, with only five minutes to get out a story that would, in the Midwest, take at least an afternoon. At certain points in the night I would spy him at his table gazing off into the abyss, his round glasses perched and tilting to the left on his puff of gray hair. He was probably thinking of vast yellow prairies and strawberry lemonade...
Later, I worked the merchandise table and sold Moth t-shirts to the rich, champagne-breathy guests. I watched everyone dance and realized how incredibly similar all people are. Everyone gets this excited/surprised look on their faces when classic songs burst onto a dance floor, like "When Doves Cry" or "Beast of Burden." Everyone is slow to get out there at first, but then busts into the worm suddenly once they've warmed up. Every woman gets a happyjealous look in their eye when their significant other is dancing with a slightly younger, more agile gal, and all (or most) men have difficulty with rhythm. If I learned anything from Garrison and his Saturday night radio broadcasts, it's that we're all the same. We really are.
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