Last night I went to the ever-awesome Salon of Shame with Junior and America’s Husband and mostly had a fantastic time. Somehow, though, Ariel let a ringer hijack the show at the very end, and we left with the taste of bile clinging to our angry tongues.
Let me back up: Do you know about this phenomenon? People like you and me bravely stepping up and reading from their journals, letters, etc., written when they were dumbass adolescents? It’s the best thing ever, and if you don’t believe me check out this brief piece listing the pros and cons of being Anne Frank from an early book report. But half or more of the fun is the amateurish, embarrassed glee with which these people read their work. Got it? Okay.
So after hearing the oh-so-blase goth girl’s virginity-loss tale, the Duran Duran fanfic involving the author’s friend’s marriage to Roger Taylor, and a terrible Encyclopedia Brown ripoff, we all felt warm and fuzzy inside. Then MC Ariel, awesome as ever, announced the final reader. He bounded on stage with untoward enthusiasm, and it quickly became apparent that he was a pro. He launched into a tepid stand-up arrangement (he actually said “I noticed there’s a lot of people here tonight with tattoos and piercings,” which was both untrue and showed that he had traveled here either from 1994 or from Auburn) that some folks chose to laugh at politely. I thrust my head down into my lap to keep from exploding in rage. It got worse, and the mood of the crowd mercifully matched my own. Finally, a nice lady in the back yelled “START READING!” and was joined by several others. Dude looked mildly abashed (nowhere near enough, though) and pulled out something he had obviously written that day in order to assure himself a spot on stage to wow us with his brilliance. It was terrible, but short, and the applause was so overwhelming that he had to go. Ariel rushed the stage and sent us off before he could try for an encore.
Why, people, why? Why must you listen to those jackass life coaches who tell you to take every opportunity to advance your own career or low-rent dreams at the expense of everyone else in the world? Why ruin a perfectly awesome evening with your stupid needs? I hope and wish that Mr. Comedy actually feels shamed from all this, but I know the type and expect he instead blames us for not being ready or accepting or open-minded enough, because we don’t yet understand that It Is All About Him! In fact, I encourage him to drop the Sha and open a competing event called Salon of Me. Everyone wins!
Oh god, thank you so much for documenting that awful moment.
Consistently, the only “bad” readings at the Salon are from Performers (capital P) who have prepared a Piece (also capital P). We’ve had a few before — great folks who’ve felt the need to write a full introduction to their reading, or get so into doing special voices that you can’t understand what they’re saying.
In response to that, I amended the Reader info page with this bit:: This is not a performance. We like our Shame straight, no chaser. Be as expressive and hammy as you want, but please do NOT prepare an extensive introduction, turn your piece into a dramatic interpretation, or editorialize as you’re reading. This is not spoken word. This is not slam poetry. We just want to hear your Shame. Jazz hands distract us from the Shame.
Dude reading last night reassured me that he’d read the Reader info page. I put him on last to ensure that he would have to watch the entire show before going on, so that he’s have a clear idea of how it worked. But he’d obviously prepared a Piece that he was going to Perform no matter what.
In an odd way, I actually really appreciated that he was so bad that the audience started shouting at him. The crowd collectively made it known to him and everyone else that this was NOT the place for this kind of Performance Piece. It makes this easier for me as a curator of the show to say “The people have spoken!” instead of just “Dude, I hate it when people Perform Pieces at my reading series.”
Anyway, thanks so much for coming … and apologies for the crappy final reader. (PS: I found you via my referral logs — I swear I’m not creepy!)
Ariel -
No, thank you for making SoS happen – it’s rare to maintain a thing of such high quality for more than a year or so! Please do keep the shame train running on time – it’s a public service.
I wish I could participate, but I didn’t write much back then, and all I can find are crabbed, indecipherable notes. I’m such a boy. Anyway, thanks again and I reckon I’ll be there in July!
- Rob
Putting new readers into the latter half to get a feel for the Salon makes sense. You want them to get an idea of what is expected. However, when the new reader is a stand-up comic (or anyone with prepared material) it will not work. The comic cannot retrieve teenage writings during the show. Their only correction is removing themselves from the show. I seriously doubt any stand-up comic would approach Ariel or Jeannie at intermission and ask to be deleted from the list because they already know they are breaking the rules. I think new readers should present their material to the curator when they arrive. Our laid-back Seattle selves feel a reluctance to that confrontation, but the curator could explain she is not evaluating their writing. The curator is only looking for cheaters.
And, if I may be so bold, save a known powerhouse reader to end the show.
Thanks for the feedback, America’s Husband. Part of the challenge is that unlike Mortified, the Salon of Shame isn’t an auditioned show. I had no idea dude was a comedian … he was just somebody who wanted to read, like so many others.
Some of our all-time best readings have come from randoms who’ve appeared out of nowhere — I’m thinking here of Marc in January (http://www.flickr.com/photos/espressobuzz/2179554303/), who read about his high school choir trip where he was eyeing boys, but had no idea at the time that he was gay. Brilliance! Totally unexpected. Every time I decide we’re never ever doing open mic again, someone like Marc will show up to remind me why surprises can be so awesome.
Then again, sometimes people like the guy last night show up, and remind me why I hate open mics.
Regardless, your final point is well-taken: the show should always end on a high note with a known reader … not an unknown note that could go terribly sour with talk of a tattooed scrotum.