The Moth - Halloween: Bruce McCulloch & Amir Baghdadchi

Episode Date: October 22, 2021

It’s our Halloween Episode! This episode is hosted by Dame Wilburn. To see the extras for this episode, head to our website: themoth.org/extras Hosted by: Dame Wilburn Storytellers: Bruce McCulloch & Amir Baghdadchi

Attention Houston! You have listened to our podcast and our radio hour, but did you know the Moth has live storytelling events at Wearhouse Live? The Moth has opened Mike's storytelling competitions called Story Slams that are open to anyone with a five-minute story to share on the night's theme. Upcoming themes include love hurts, stakes, clean, and pride. GoodLamoth.org forward slash Houston to experience a live show near you. That's the moth.org forward slash Houston. Welcome to the Moth Podcast. I'm your host, Dame Wilburn. It's our Halloween episode. And I remember in third grade wearing my favorite Halloween costume of all time.

My school loved to celebrate Halloween and the high watermark of the year was the Halloween parade. My mother asked me what did I want to wear? And I said I want to go dressed up as my hero Terry Bradshaw. For those of you who don't know or don't remember, Terry Bradshaw was a quarterback of the Pittsburgh Steelers and took them to a Super Bowl. Now it is not easy to get a football uniform for a kind of chunky girl in a third grade. But without blinking, my mother asked her friend if I could wear her son's uniform. And it was his practice uniform, so it was fragrant.

However, we laundered it, we got it on me. Now trying to find me the pants, that was never going to happen. I had grace wet pants, gym shoes, the jersey, and then when it came to the helmet, there was a debate. Now, my mother thought I could just carry it. And I responded to her, well, that's impossible, because if I just carry it, then no one will understand my commitment to the costume. That's when she decided to cut out the ear protection inside the helmet so I could put it on.

When I got to school, all of the girls who were dressed as witches and princesses kind of stared at me, though boys, they kind of stared at me a little bit too. A little bit of trepidation and a touch of envy, if I dare say. I, on the other hand, thought it was the greatest thing I would probably ever do. I was exactly what I wanted to be, and I walked through that parade proudly. My mother never once worried about what I wanted to be or why I wanted to be there. But she was right about one thing. Wearing a helmet on your head all day at school can be a true pain and neck. On this episode, we'll hear two not-so-scary stories that could only have taken place in costume. Our first story teller this week is Bruce McCullough.

Bruce told this at a main stage event in Los Angeles where the theme of the night was leap of faith. Here's Bruce, live at the mouth. Hello. For my wife and my kids and I, we've always really loved Halloween. And I think it's because we can put so much energy into our costumes. You know, I usually dress in tandem with my son, Roscoe. I was robin' to his Batman. We went out as hauling oats. He was the handsome one, obviously. My wife went out as a Picasso painting and then the year 1960. Go figure.

She's creative that way and it's one of her outlets. She doesn't have them off. And my daughter Heidi has gone out as a series of the Disney princesses, but lately she's grown tired of the Disney brand, which I really appreciate. So we really love Halloween around our house, except for last year. We have a family pet, Lulu, a white standard poodle. But if you're trying to imagine her, we don't cut her all pootily, we'll just let her go. And she's a great dog, you just go,

Lulu and she'd run around, you could hear a little collar jingle. Well, in August, Lulu got sick. She had this little nosebleed that started kind of, you know, sporadically, but it started to gain momentum. And so much so that we decided to take her to the vet. He couldn't find anything, still $70. And he looked at us and he said, oh, it's probably just nothing. But in a way that in my head I heard, it's probably just everything.

And I wasn't paranoid, I was true. I was right. Because that nose bleed would not stop. It just kept going and going. We'd lie on our bed on a towel and she'd always lie on the other part of our bed. And we'd walk her to the park and her nose would bleed and using the drips, we could find our way back home like Hansel and Gretel. And then one day she got up to go to the park, her little collar jingled, and she fell down.

She couldn't walk. Now anyone here who's ever had to wrap a pet in a towel or a blanket, and rush it to animal emergency, I will spare you the gory details. Needless to say that a couple pieces of bad news and an operation that didn't go as planned, our little girl was just hanging in. It was the next day we were picking up our kids from karate class.

We got the call from the animal hospital saying, your girls in trouble. If you want to see her again, you better get here soon. So we had to figure out how to get our kids from karate class and get all way across town going full blast without letting them know how freaked out we were. We said, oh, those people at the animal hospital, they just need some money by the time the bank closes, which was kind of true. And when we got there, I didn't know what I was doing. I just said, okay, she's probably asleep. We're going to go in, you kids, you just stay here. So we went inside and they took us into a room I'd never been in before. And there was our girl lying on a metal table.

She had a tube in her from her paw and one in her mouth. And we said, hello, Lulu. And she heard our voices and her tail kind of flinched. It didn't wag, it just flinched. She had the impulse, but not the strength. And her voice is comforted her because she was blind now. And we looked at our dog and my wife and I, and we knew it was all over about the ending.

And that's why they called us to come and put her down. So we ordered the stuff, 70 dollars. And we stroked her ear, we whispered to her. We thanked her for all the love and all the cuddling. For starting our family, we always say she started our family because we got her a week before Heidi. And then we held her before we did, until we didn't have to anymore. Hardly a date night for me and my wife, but it was a shared activity, I guess you could say.

Putting down my dog was the hardest thing I have ever done. My dad dying was a nuisance compared to this. We went back to the car and got to the kids, and just as we got there, my wife said, you tell them. I said, okay, guys, Lulu's gone to heaven. My son said, bullshit. He knows I don't believe in heaven, and I'm a terrible actor at the best of times. And we just stand, stood there, all of us crying and heaving and snott coming on our nose.

No one knew how to lead this family. We didn't know what to do. So we just went to McDonald's. I guess that's why they're there. We drove straight through a drive-through. Happy meals that really weren't. My wife wearing sunglasses with tears, going down her cheeks, ate a big mac and babbled. I guess the calories don't count if your dog just died, right?

You know, it's weird when you lose a parent, you're asked to, or you're told you can grieve for a year. But if you lose a pet, you're lucky if you get the day off work. And it was particularly hard, especially for my young daughter Heidi. She was doing badly in school for the first time. She got really dark, and her teacher found her a book to help her deal with the grief. Coincidentally, an unbelievably called, saying goodbye to Lulu. What are the odds? It was, I guess there's a lot of them

out there. There was, it was a story about a young girl who had a little puppy that died and she ended up bearing it in the backyard, wrapped in her sweater for some reason. And my wife and I, we read it, it was a cruel dark read, but we got through it. And it brought up the obvious for Heidi that she never got a chance to say, goodbye to Lulu. My fault, of course, I kept her in the car.

And then the next few weeks, as Halloween grew near, nobody was talking about their costumes. Clearly Halloween was off. And I came home though, one day about a week before Halloween, and as if the mood in the house had shifted, as if someone had opened up a window and let in some happiness. And they announced that suddenly Halloween was back on.

And they all knew what they were gonna wear. My wife was gonna go out as free to Calo if she hadn't been in the accident. I don't know how she was gonna do it, but she was. My son was gonna go out as either a ninja or an owl. He hadn't decided yet. My daughter was gonna go out as a zombie that ate Disney princesses, which

I thought was another strong move, and they all knew what I should go out as. You're gonna go out as Lulu, as my dad dog, and why? So people get a chance to say goodbye to Lulu. And I thought, no, I'm not doing it. Make my wife do it. She's the actress. You know, as a parent, you get used to being used as a prop. My Doris T-shirt became a Doris T-shirt a long time ago. But dad is dead dog.

And I said, okay, I'll do it. Because when you're a parent, you know you just have to do it and hope for the best. Oh, and the other development is we are suddenly having a Halloween party. So everyone we knew could come and say goodbye to Lulu. So everyone we knew could come and say goodbye to Lulu. The day of the party I got ready for the worst gig of my adult life. I put on my costume and it was exactly what you think it was.

An off-white tracksuit with some cotton on it. A white tube because we called them in Canada with some felt ears attached. My daughter did my makeup, and the last rimmed detail was I wore the actual collar that Lulu wore in life, with her little dog tags that you could jingle. I looked at myself in the mirror and I thought, well at least I don't have any lines. As the party started, the doorbell rang,

and the first two people arrived. My daughter Heidi wabbled into the kitchen, moved around and puked. She puked a projectile vomit all over the island and on the floor. What goes around comes around isn't just about karma, folks. It's also about the stomach flu. Some kids in class had had it the previous week,

and I thought we dodged a bullet but apparently not because there was a pile of puke on the floor. I jumped into action and I told my wife to clean it up. In a respectful uplifting way though and I took Heidi into the TV room where we conveniently still had the dog gate like little bars so people could visit us and happy jail And we wouldn't get them sick and we could observe the party And we sat in there and we drank ginger ale and cuddled And I thought this is all I ever really wanted a family for. Was to cuddle and watch Little Bear.

My daughter was so happy. She started talking and telling me about her life. And she started telling me what she wanted to be when she grew up. And I wanted to butt in, but I couldn't, because I was in character. And, well, the party raged outside. Frito was moving around easily. And my son was entertaining people with his ninja moves, even though he was dressed as an owl. We sat and sighed and cuddled. And then everybody came and said, goodbye to me. Well, Lulu and me. And then they laughed. And then was just down to the four of us.

My son, my wife, my daughter and I, and she looked at me, and she said, well, we're all here now. She looked at me and rubbed my ears, juggled my collar, and said, goodbye, Lulu. My heart both broke and leapt at the same time, because she'd finally gotten to say it. That night, in the middle of the night, I woke up with that feeling in my throat.

You know, the feeling that you're gonna puke in 10 seconds. I ran to the mirror and I caught a glimpse of myself, some dog makeup still on. And I know I'd gone and I caught a glimpse of myself, some dog makeup still on. And I know I'd gone dressed as my dead dog, but I came back as a guy who had done his best. And this time, it worked out. Thank you. That was Bruce McCullough. Bruce is a comedian, writer and director best known as a member of the sketch troupe,

the kids in the home. He has directed shows such as SNL, Brooklyn 9.9, Shits Creek, and trailer park boys. He is said to take his latest one-man show, Tales of Bravery and Stupidity, to America in 2022. Bruce is currently directing and producing the third season of the CBC sketch series, Tall Boys. To see some photos of Bruce, his children, and their dog Lulu, head to the extras for this episode on our website, themoth.org-slash-extras. Our next storyteller is Amir Bagdacci. What up Amir? Amir told this story at a story slam in Ann Arbor where the theme of the night was haunted. Here's Amir live at the mosque. Oh my God. Oh my God.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. All right, a mirror. Okay, listen, this is going to be educational, okay?

Good. Look, I don't know if you know this, but children are the future, okay? And we have to teach them. We owe it to them to teach them facts, to teach them history. Which is why when I was invited to dress up as a mummy and frighten some suburban school kids on a haunted hair ride, I put my foot down. I was like, one, if you consult the ancient Egyptian papyri, chasing tractors is not something a mummy would be into. Quite the opposite, the papy papyri, chasing tractors is not something a mummy would be into. Quite the opposite. The papyri are pretty straight about this.

And to a haunted hay ride gives these kids a distorted sense of farm life, right? And it's hard enough getting our young people into agriculture, right? Now they don't think on top of blizzards and beetles and droughts, there's the undead story about, right? No thanks, Pa. I'm going into social media, right?

I don't blame you, Jaden. I don't blame you. But my friends had to make some compensation. And the job I had previously was cooking at a chiles. And I just felt that my resume needed something a little more impressive, right? Maybe like a haunted hair, right? That's walking and moaning.

Very nice. So I got to my friend's house to get the costume going and this costume consisted of three things. Some underwear, some bandages, and there was no third thing. Just just underwear and bandages. And for a second I thought you know should I wear shoes? Should I have a phone? Should I have a wallet? But the papaya you're pretty straight. Mumbies did not have those things, right? So it's just that and It was a dark night a few nights before Halloween and I was driven deep into one of those endless winding subdivisions and dropped off and

And they told me you know, and they said, okay, just wait by this mailbox and when the triton comes up, pulling the kids, jump out and scare them. They're like, okay, so I'm just waiting there. I'm just trying to act casual. It's just not easy, because remember, it's not even Halloween yet, right? On Halloween, you can be like, hey, look, honey,

there's a mummy by our mailbox, hi, but it's just a regular Tuesday, right? On Halloween you can be like, hey look honey, there's a mummy by our mailbox, hi, but it's just a regular Tuesday, right? I'm just trying to blend in like, hey, just check in your mail, looks good. It's not, it's not. So, then I see the tractors rumbling up the street, and there are the kids sitting on bails of straw, they're in costume with lightsabers and magic wands and nonejucks. And I jump out and I start following them. And I go, ah! And the kids shriek.

Then I go, I'm going to get you. And the kids shriek. And then I go, I'm going to eat your face. And the kids go quiet. Like, I crossed the line there. And even I'm like, eat your face. Is that, is that, where did that come from? Is that okay?

Like, did I miss some sort of haunted hay ride training where we like brought up issues of heightened sensitivity? And I just, where did that come from in me? And then it happened. Right, the tractor begins to pick up speed, but this one kid, he was a pirate with a sword, goes, there's the mommy, let's get him. And the kid jumps off the moving tractor.

Right? And one after another, the kids are jumping off. They're going, let's get him to punk, Angel of the pavement, picking himself up, screaming and chasing after me. And I just start running. And after this point, I had been trying to walk in a kind of historically authentic manner,

just kind of clump, clump, clump. But at this point, papyri be damned. I am booking, right? And so you understand, these children, they were not sweet kids. These children were out to kill. These were the children of the corn, right? And not the cute, cute mini ornamental Indian

corn. Like I'm such a big genetically modified cobs of the devil, right? That's the kind of corn these children will children of. And so I'm just running like through over lawns, stumbling through backyards, and finally I escape at some little swampy bits in a cul-de-sac. My muddy and my banids are tearing and it hits me. I have no idea where I am, right? I've got no foam, no wallet. And then up the street, this door opens, a front door opens. I see some kids and I just hurl myself out and going, hey, hey, hey, stop right for me.

And the kids are like, mommy! Shh! And I'm not so I'm like, come on, just let me. I'm not going to eat your face. This is not, it's not. And I realized, like, I can't ask for help in this costume. Like, I've got a change, which immediately raised a really important question. Which of these things, as a parent, are you more afraid of?

A mummy roaming through the streets at night, or a half-naked middle aged weirdo, just jamming in his underpants. And to be honest, it's a toss up. The papyri are not conclusive here. I went with just keeping the bandages. And finally, I was wondering, I limped and I found the Jeep with my friend, and it was parked

with all these other minivans, and the headlights were on, and the flashlights were out, and like, hey, did you hear what happened? Some of the kids jumped off the hay ride, and they just ran off. We don't even know where some of them are. What could have made that happen? And I was like, I have no idea. That is awful.

I'm going to tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going to get in the car right now, and I'm just gonna go, because my work here is basically done. And a few days later, I got the compensation, and it turned out to be a gift certificate for not making this up for chilies, which is pretty scary. Thanks. Thanks.

Hold on. Pretty scary! Thanks! That was Amir Bagdachi. Amir is a writer and director. So far he's failed at nearly every job he's put his hand to, including Paperboy, Oyster Shucker, Scholar of Antiquity, Parade Leopard Con, Personal Chef to a billionaire, Resume Fixer, and Candidate for Public Office. His latest work is always at AmirForAmerica.com. That's it for this episode. And from all of us here at The Moth, and on this side of the Vale, have a story-worthy week.

Dame Wilburn is a storyteller, a host of the Moth podcast, Dame's Eclectic Brain podcast, and various live shows, including the Moth Main Stage. Her storytelling began as a way of keeping cool in the summertime on her grandmother's porch in Macon, Georgia. She has completed four residencies for storytellers, including at CERAN-B in Palmetto, Georgia, and at Airtres in Allmont, Michigan. Dame has also presented at the University of Iowa and UCLA. She lives in the state of possibilities and in Michigan. This episode of The Moth Podcast was produced by Sarah Austin-Jones, Sarah Jane Johnson,

Julia Purcell, and me, Davie Sumner. Our special assistant producer is Harvey Johnson Cook. The rest of the Moths' leadership team includes Katherine Burns, Sarah Haberman, Jennifer Hickson, Meg Bulls, Kate Tellers, Jennifer Birmingham, Marina Cluche, Suzanne Rust, Brandon Grant, Inga Gladowski, and Aldi Kaza. All Moth stories are true as remembered by story tellers. For more about our podcast, information on pitching your own story and everything else, visit our website, themoth.org. The Moth podcast is presented by PRX, the public radio exchange, helping make public radio more public at prx.org.