The Moth Podcast: Birmingham

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He's gonna tell you the truth.

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Yeah, aka Charlie Sheen, only on Netflix, September 10th.

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Welcome to the Moth Podcast.

I'm Suzanne Rust, the curator at the Moth and your host for this episode.

In these next two stories, we'll be taking a trip to Birmingham, Alabama, where we've been hosting Story Slams since March 2019.

Each Story Slam we produce really reflects the city it's a part of.

There's some hilarious behind-the-scenes Hollywood tidbits in the LA Story Slam.

The New York Story Slams have a real I'm walking here vibe.

And the Birmingham Story Slams bring that wonderful sense of being on the front porch as the sun goes down, listening to a story in the dim twilight.

Birmingham was one of the cities on the Moth's pop-up porch tour in 2022, and I was lucky enough to spend a week there getting to know hundreds of locals and hear their stories.

Great town, even better people.

First up, we've got Ann Wheeler, who told this story at a Birmingham Story Slam where the theme of the night was vices.

Here's Anne, live with the moth.

One Sunday afternoon I opened the Birmingham News Section E Art and Entertainment.

On the second page down on the left hand side about two-thirds of the way down there was a little one column-inch notice.

Open call auditions.

Birmingham Festival Theater Sunday 2 to 5 needed.

Three males aged 20 to 35.

Three females age 20 to 35.

One female age 35 to 50.

Next Sunday, I was there.

I walked into the theater and the whole lobby was full of people.

They were sitting on the floor and lounging against the wall, leaning over the counters, filling out the audition sheets.

Went up and I got my audition sheet, started to fill it out.

Name, contact information, theater experience.

And then I got to the bottom.

There was a line that said, put a check next to the box of all of the following instruments that you can play.

It was going to be a musical, yes.

Okay.

Piano.

Nope.

Keyboard.

Ah, no brainer.

I was a piano major in college.

Now, if you know how to play the piano and you got to play the keyboard, about all you need to know is where's the power switch and where's the volume control?

Check keyboard.

Next one, guitar.

Now, I had never had a guitar lesson in my life, but I am a child of the 60s.

And back then, no self-respecting teenager got to their 18th birthday without at some point picking up a guitar and figuring out how to play a C and a D and a G chord, right?

I mean, if you could play those three chords and had a capo, capo, you could play any tune that was on the radio back then.

It was great.

Check guitar.

Next one, accordion.

Now, I had never played an accordion in my life.

And at that point, the only thing I wanted to do was go into the theater, interrupt the audition.

Excuse me, Mr.

Director, could you please tell me what instrument the female age 35 to 50 has got to play?

Because if it wasn't the accordion, I didn't have to worry about that box.

But there was no way to find that out.

In that moment, the only thing I knew for certain was the more boxes I checked, the better chance I had of getting a part in that show.

So, here my professional training kicked in.

I was a lawyer.

I was used to telling people how to testify under oath.

And one thing we always say is: listen carefully to the question.

Only answer the question that is asked.

Never volunteer.

So I read that line again: put a check in all of the the boxes next to the instruments that you can

play.

Now,

I had never played an accordion, but I had played the concertina, the squeeze box, you know, like it's that thing with the buttons on the edges and all the bellas in the middle.

And after all, what is an accordion but, you know, kind of half of a squeeze box over here glued together with an upright keyboard over here?

I mean,

how hard could the, can I play the accordion?

Of course I can play the

check accordion.

The last box, drums.

My favorite.

Again, never had a lesson, but I played the hammer dulcimer, right?

It's like this.

I played rhythm and backup all the time.

And I knew from my drummer friends that the way you move and sort of do things to play that dulcimer, it's exactly what drummers do.

Plus, I had an ace at my sleeve.

Back home, I had a teenage son who was the drummer in a heavy metal punk rock garage band.

I already had a 20-piece drum kit red with sparkles all over them, and I had a built-in tutor.

Check drums.

Well, I got up and went to hand my audition sheet in and I confess I had a few qualms about that.

check mark next to accordion,

but I really wanted that part.

I turned it in.

Waited my turn.

They called my name.

I went in the theater.

I read the part, went home, and then you wait.

A week later, I got the call.

I had the part.

So

I didn't know which part,

except that it was female, 35 to 50.

That I was sure of.

Got down to the first read-through and it turned out the show was about four women who were friends.

They decided to start a rock band because they wanted to compete in the local Battle of the Bands because they were going to get a a $5,000 first prize.

And these four friends thought, we can do this.

So at the end of the first act and the end of the second act, these four women are on stage and there's a great rock band and we deliver a showstopper kind of big rock number at the end of each act.

Well,

turned out I didn't need to worry about the accordion.

That part went to the gorgeous, buxom blonde who could belt out a song like nobody's business and prance up and down in front of the audience while pretending to play the accordion.

What did I get?

Well,

let me just say this.

But the run of that show extended four weeks.

From Thursday night through the Sunday matinee, I got to put on my black tights and my black turtleneck and high-top boots and a sleeveless red leather jacket covered with zippers.

And I got to live the dream.

For those four weeks, this otherwise respectable, middle-aged lawyer got to be the drummer in a pug rock band on stage with lights and everything.

And it was great.

But I have to confess, in the years since then, I have from time to time had occasion to ponder my behavior in that audition.

And I have asked myself, is it possible

that your eager desire

to get a part in that play sort of pushed you up to and maybe even across that very thin line between vice and virtue.

I think if I had to make the argument in my defense, I would probably lose.

But I'm sure of one thing.

I am very confident that if the occasion arose again,

Knowing what I know,

with all the guilt that's been weighing on me through these years.

Keyboard,

check.

Guitar?

Check.

Drums?

Big check.

Accordion.

Check.

That was Anne Wheeler.

Anne is a storyteller and musician who divides her time between her native Birmingham and the mountains and rivers of western North Carolina.

In addition to family and local history stories, she loves telling tales from ancient Scotland and Ireland, often accompanying them with her Celtic harp.

From Birmingham to Miami, London to Los Angeles, there are moth story slams happening throughout the world.

If you've only listened to moth stories in the podcast or radio hour, you're missing out.

There's something special about hearing them live, and maybe you'll be tempted to tell one yourself.

You can find upcoming shows, themes, and dates by visiting our website at themoth.org slash events.

Our next story is from No Points for Guessing, a Birmingham Story Slam.

We met Anthony Underwood at a green market in Birmingham where his bright smile and banana patterned pants drew us over to him.

When he found out what we did at the moth, he was intrigued.

He came to a slam, threw his name in a hat, and got up on stage to tell his story.

Here's Anthony Underwood, light at the moth.

My mother made the best banana pudding in the world.

Now, this is fighting words.

This is the South.

You make those statements at a church, somebody going to end up having a brawl and somebody get hurt.

But I trust this is a safe.

environment that I can share that, okay?

My mother, Ruby Lee Underwood, she was born in 1929 in hard times, Alabama.

Now, you can't Google that.

That's not on the map.

It's just a condition that you live under during that time.

My mother had a first child when she was a teenager, so she had to quit school.

And by the time she was 33, she had eight of us, and I was the sixth of eight kids.

She was a fighter.

I remember

when I was five years old, we moved to government housing, And I know how the Beverly Hill Billy felt when they moved to Beverly Hill.

To me, that was a whole new world, you know.

So we moved from a shotgun house to a house that had three bedrooms.

And most important, we had a stove and a refrigerator.

And you cannot appreciate those things until you live a short period not having those things.

But with that stove, my mother worked magic.

We had beans every other week, but she made those beans very special.

We had cornbread.

But one thing that she made special, and to my heart, it must have been my birthmark, that she made a great banana pudding.

Now, those who know about real banana pudding, it's not easy to make.

You got to stand over that stove and do some stirring and make something happen.

But someone who worked six days a week in domestic work to come and do that for her loved ones, it was very special to me.

My job at the time was to clean the pot.

And that was the best job a kid can have.

So I used that big spoon, we call it a table spoon, and scrape that pot like a surgeon and make sure all that pudding was gotten out of that pot.

And I cannot tell you there was any greater joy than that.

But my mother was, when she made the banana pudding, she used to sing those gospel songs.

The Lord would make a way somehow.

And she'd always give us some type of motivation about life.

And I tell you, though, when she gave me that pot and I cleaned it with that spoon, I don't know what she was talking about, but the Lord Lord had made a way for me somehow with all that pudding that I was able to eat from that spoon.

When I became

finished high school, I left home, and mother just always called me and said, I got something special for you.

I knew what it was.

It was that good old banana pudding.

So I come and spend time with mother and share

ideas and thoughts.

In 1997, she died and the phone calls, of course, stopped.

And well, the banana pudding was no longer available.

So I find myself myself going to different restaurants, and when I see a banana pudding on the menu, I get excited.

Wow, banana pudding.

But more often than not, it wasn't the type of banana pudding my mother made.

There was a pop-up shop in a property that we was managing.

A lady was selling banana pudding, and it was very attractive, looked good.

And I bought three, you know, banana pudding like religious.

If you like it, you're going to share it with someone else.

When I ate it, I realized it wasn't real banana pudding, so I went and told her my dissatisfaction.

I said, this is not real banana pudding.

This is fake.

You know,

my wife heard about the conversation, and I thought that she would console me and say, Don't worry, honey, we'll find this banana pudding one day.

And but she turned on me.

She said, I was wrong by speaking to her lady about banana puddings.

Everybody make banana pudding different.

She said, By the way, if you think you can make one better, make it yourself.

That wasn't what I wanted to hear.

So I didn't tell her, but at that point, I decided to find a way to make banana pudding.

So that next day, I formulated a plan.

I read, went on eBay, I went on

YouTube and did my research about banana pudding.

I talked to relatives who knew about my mother banana pudding and I got some ideas from that.

So one Saturday evening I went to Walmart and I spent $35 to buy the ingredients for banana pudding.

Now I know some of the ingredients we probably had in the house, but obviously I figured I want to do it this way.

If I did not succeed, I put it all in the garbage can and never told my wife about the banana pudding trial.

But I made the banana pudding.

I put it in the refrigerator to chill.

Woke my wife up the next morning and say, hey, I got something going on you to try.

I told her I made a banana pudding.

And she didn't believe me.

She thought maybe it was a two-fairy might have brought a banana pudding or something.

I don't know.

But anyway, she tried it and she told me something I couldn't believe.

She said, this is the best banana pudding I ever taste.

Took it to work.

People loved it.

One lady said, won't you make one for us for our

gathering for Thanksgiving?

I did that.

And she said, what you charging me for?

I said, $50.

I figured I'd pay

$35 for my initial ingredients and $15 for

the hand mixer.

And she paid for it.

And I cannot tell you the joy that someone's willing to pay that kind of money for the banana pudding that I made.

And I thought about my mother, she worked, I mean, probably a whole month, and she didn't make $50 back in those days.

So it was a confirmation.

My banana pudding now is being sold at a pop-up shop.

We got a certain restaurant carried the banana pudding, and people love it.

And they always say the same thing: it tastes like mama banana pudding.

So, somehow, her

transcending to me how to make banana pudding,

I was able to do what she did, and is made with love.

Thank you.

That was Anthony Underwood.

In 2003, Anthony Underwood was on the cover of Used Car Dealership magazine as the automotive dealer of the year.

Now he produces and sells his mom's homestyle banana pudding online at nanaspudding.com and at local Birmingham merchants.

After Anthony told his story, he actually shared some of his legendary banana pudding with the audience.

I can confirm that it is delicious.

Remember, you can find Birmingham Story Slam dates at themoth.org slash events, where you can also find details about all of our other open mics and shows.

We'll also have a link in our episode description.

That's it for this episode.

If you like these stories, be sure to share this podcast with a friend.

and tell them to subscribe so they can take a listen as soon as it comes out.

From all of us here at the Moth, we hope to see you and hear your stories soon.

Suzanne Rust is the Moth's senior curatorial producer and one of the hosts of the Moth Radio Hour.

In addition to finding new voices and fresh stories for the Moth stage, Suzanne creates playlists and helps curate special storytelling events.

The rest of the Moth's leadership team includes Sarah Haberman, Christina Norman, Jennifer Hickson, Meg Bowles, Kate Tellers, Marina Gluche, Brandon Grant Walker, Leanne Gulley, and Aldi Caza.

The Moth would like to thank its supporters and listeners.

Stories like these are made possible by community giving.

If you're not already a member, please consider becoming one or making a one-time donation today at themoth.org/slash giveback.

All moth stories are true, as remembered by the storytellers.

For more about our podcast, information on pitching your own story, and everything else, go to our website, themoth.org.

The Moth Podcast is presented by PRX, the Public Radio Exchange, helping make public radio more public at PRX.org.