The Moth - The Moth Podcast: Melbourne and Cal Wilson

Episode Date: March 1, 2024

On this episode, two stories from Melbourne, and we’ll reflect on the legacy of comedian and SLAM host Cal Wilson. Host: Chloe Salmon Storytellers: Elizabeth Gray’s son has an interesting first day of school. Cal Wilson is inspired by her five year old son to take swimming lessons. Here’s Cal Wilson’s article about The Moth: https://www.smh.com.au/entertainment/the-lure-of-the-moth-mesmerising-stories-from-people-just-like-you-20180315-h0xhl3.html If you’d like to share your own story, or would just love to hear some incredible live storytelling, check out a Story Slam near you: https://themoth.org/events The Moth would like to thank its listeners and supporters. 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/giveback

Hello, Moth listeners in Seattle. Want to experience the magic of Moth Stories live and in person? Join us for our upcoming Grand Slam show in Seattle. The Moth is dedicated to finding everyday people to tell extraordinary stories. At our Open Mic Story Slams, these people find us. At the Grand Slam, 10 Seattle Open Mic winners are invited to the Moth stage for the ultimate storytelling competition. Join the Moth on March 22 at the Town Hall for a battle of wits and words featuring local storytellers as they compete to be crowned Seattle's Story Champion.

To buy your tickets or to find out about our monthly shows at Bladel Hall St. Mark's and Fremont Abbey Center, visit us at the Moth.org forward slash Seattle. Once again, buy your tickets at the Moth.org forward slash Seattle. Once again, buy your tickets at themoth.org forward slash Seattle. Welcome to the Moth Podcast. I'm Chloe Salmon, a director at the Moth and your host for this episode. One of the best things about a story slam is that no matter where you are in the world,

the room has a similar atmosphere. The people are different, of course, and the vibes can shift a bit from show to show, but overall it is a magical thing. Moth audiences, wherever they are, seem to be universally enthusiastic and supportive. And it's true whether you're in New York, or Ann Arbor, London, or Melbourne. That's according to Melbourne's StorySlam producer, Selena Brennan. And in this episode, we're going to showcase two of those stories, as well as reflect on the legacy of Cal Wilson, longtime Melbourne StorySlam host and an important part of the Moth family and

Melbourne storytelling community. In Melbourne, as with any Moth StorySlam, there are stories of loss and hope, romance and tragedy, and especially in Melbourne comedy. That's according to producer Selena Brennan, who says there are a lot of funny stories with self-deprecatory slants that often reflect the laconic or lyrical personalities of the storytellers. First up, we have Elizabeth Gray, who told this at a Melbourne story slam where the theme of the night was education. Here's Elizabeth live at the Moth. I have two beautiful boys and they were born 20 months apart and they're like chalk and cheese but in their own separate ways they're gorgeous and funny

and kind and smart and they're both on the autism spectrum. And when my husband and I started looking for schools, we were told that my eldest was too high functioning to be eligible for a special needs school. We were a little bit worried about sending him to a big kind of local school because we thought that he might get lost to a big kind of local school because we thought that he might get lost or alternatively misunderstood and garner the wrong type of attention. So it was just by pure luck that we found an amazing school that had small class sizes, an amazing teaching philosophy and amazing teachers and we went through a few hoops and we managed to get him enrolled

and before we knew it, it was his first day of school. So normally I'm a chronic snooze button presser, but on this particular day, when the alarm went off, I jumped up and I went to find my two boys. And they were where I expected them to be, which was sitting up in bed with Nana, kind of on either side of her like two kind of snugly bookends. And I was feeling really anxious, but I wanted to keep it light, so I sort of went in there

and I said, guess what day it is today? And my eldest, he didn't move, but he looked at me and he said, it's my first day of school. And I'm like, yeah. And then Nana looked at me. And she sort of said, wearily, and guess what your son wants to be called today? Now, some kids on the autism spectrum can become obsessed with a particular subject.

So at the time, my son's obsession was space. Everything was about space. And on the holidays, every day he'd wake up and he'd want to be called a particular planet. I think some of you can see where this is going. And he insisted that he wouldn't answer to anything else. I'd be kind of like sat and just stop bouncing on the couch. Jupiter, go tidy your room. And so it was this particular morning on his first day of school that he looks at me proudly and he said, mum, today I am Uranus. And the earth just kind of slowed in its rotation and just kind of ground to a halt.

And all I could stay in response to this was like, what? And he said, Uranus, today I'm Uranus. So I was kind of in shock and I kind of, you know, backpedaled out of there and I went to the bedroom to get some reinforcements and I told my husband and he just kind of groaned and sort of swung his legs out of it. And there was a lot of pooh jokes and there was some, you know, tickling thrown in and so at the end of it he stood up and he looked triumphant and he said so do you still want to be called Uranus? And my eldest son looked at him like he was crazy and said, yes, because that's what I

am today. So we kind of threw up our hands into spare and continued on with the day. So all of the breakfasting and getting dressed was done a lot quicker than usual and then it was time to go. So the plan was my youngest would stay with Nana and that my husband and I would take our eldest to the bus. He would take the bus out to school and then we would meet him there for a morning meeting.

So it was on the way to the bus and I just couldn't stand it. And I just turned to him, I turned to Uranus sitting in the back seat looking very small. And I said, right, that's it. I've had enough. I don't want you to be called Uranus.

I want you to be called by your real name today. And that's it, no argument. And he kind of looked at me in his little lip wobble debate and he said, okay. And it was one of the times in my parenting career where I felt absolutely relieved, but shite all at the same time. So, it was time to put him on the bus

and I gave him a big hug and I sort of grabbed him and I said, make sure you don't take your seatbelt off in any circumstances. And Oni went on to the bus. So then my husband and I drove out to the school and it was about a 40 minute drive and we get there and the bus arrives and all the kids pile off.

My son's not there. The bus driver gets up, gets off, still no son. So we're starting to really freak out. It's like, what if you got off at another stop and no one realized? What if he's got into another dimension and no one realized? So we sprint onto the bus and there he is, sitting there by himself. And he looks at me and is like, what are you doing here?

And I'm like, what are you doing here still on the bus? He's like, you told me not to take my seatbelt off. I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. So then we drove home and then began the longest six hours of my life. And it was like, you know, maybe I started him too soon, maybe he should go to a special needs school, what if he gets bullied, what if he doesn't make any friends? And all of these are negative thoughts were just spinning around in my head. And finally it was time to pick him up.

And he got off the bus and I gave him a big hug, and as I was strapping him into his car seat, I realised he had something in his hand. And I said, what have you got there? And he looked a little sheepish, and he showed it to me, and it was a perfectly round cardboard cut out of the planet Uranus. And I said, who gave that to you? And he said, the teacher gave it to me.

And I learnt three valuable lessons that day. The first one is, worrying about your kids when they're in someone else's care is useless, it just gives you a sore tummy and nothing else. Secondly, my son will always find a way to let his unique light shine through. And thirdly, there will always be people around to let his unique light shine through. And thirdly, there will always be people around who want to see him shine. Thank you. That was Elizabeth Gray.

Elizabeth has been a short story writer in most of her life. However, since getting on stage at the Moth in October of 2016, she's fallen in love with storytelling. She lives in Melbourne with her husband, two sons, and two cats. Whether you're in Melbourne or anywhere the Moth has a slam, we'd love for you to join us. Just go to the Moth.org slash events for a list of upcoming shows and themes. It might seem scary to come and share a story, and if you just want to come and hear some

tales from your community, that's amazing too. But there's something special when you actually get on stage, and trust us, it's not that scary. In fact, one of the things that Melbourne's story slam producer Selena Brennan appreciates most about her city's slams is how kind the audience is. Quote, One of the people who has made the Melbourne stage so kind and welcoming was Cal Wilson. In addition to being an incredible comedian, writer, and multi-hyphenate,

Cal was the long-time host of our Melbourne story slams. She passed away in 2023, but she left a legacy of kindness, humor, and vulnerability. We'd like to play one of her stories for you. She told this at the very first Moth Story slam in Melbourne in 2015, where the theme of the night, fittingly, was first. Here's Carl Wilson. APPLAUSE By the time I had my first swimming lesson at the age of five,

I was already terrified of the water. I don't really remember how it started. I think I was held on water by an older kid. All I remember is always feeling the panic and the terror and water being forced up my nose and I just hated the water. But I eventually learned to swim at the age of 43. So 38 years in between, it makes me sound like a slow learner. But I spent those years just avoiding the water

because I just hated it. I would make up any excuse. I didn't like the beach because the sand would get on my book. But really, I was just scared of the water. maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai, maenai a'i nai i'r pwysi, a'i nai i'r pwysi. A'i nai i'r pwysi. A'i a'i a'i a'i pwysi, a'i a'i pwysi. A'i a'i pwysi, a'i pwysi, a'i pwysi, a'i pwysi. A'i a'i pwysi, a'i pwysi, a'i pwysi, a'i pwysi, a'i pwysi. A'i a'i pwysi, a'i pwysi, a'i pwysi. A'i pwysi, a'i pwysi, a'i pwysi, a'i pwysi, a'i pwysi.

A'i pwysi, a'i pwysi, a'i pwysi, a'i pwysi. A'i pwysi, a'i pwysi, a'i pwysi, a'i pwysi. A'i pwysi, a'i pwysi, a'i pwysi. A'i pwysi, a'i pwysi, a'ik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, llaik, a i wad yw sydd sydd ymlaenau, beti sydd ymlaenau, a i wad yw sydd ymlaenau. A yw sydd ymlaenau, a i wad yw sydd ymlaenau, a i wad yw sydd ymlaenau, a i wad yw sydd ymlaenau, a i wad yw sydd ymlaenau, a i wad yw sydd ymlaenau a i wad yw sydd ymlaenau, a i wad yw sydd ymlaenau,

a i wad yw sydd ymlaenau, a i wad yw sydd ymlaenau, a i wad yw sydd ymlaenau, a i wad yw sydd ymlaenau, a i wad yw sydd ymlaenau, a i wad yw sydd ymlaenau, a i wad yw sydd ymlaenau, a i wad yw sydd ymlaenau, a i wad yw sydd ymlaenau, a i wad yw sydd ymlaenau, a i wad yw sydd ymlaenau, a i wad yw sydd ymlaenau, a i wad yw sydd ymlaenau, a i wad yw sydd ymlaenau, pwnta facen. A at that stage, when you are swimming with a baby, all you're basically doing is you're just swishing them around. It's like you're washing a marrow. Nothing very much happens in the swimming lesson,

and then they get a bit older, and they start to do more stuff, like crawl off a mat into the water, and you catch them, and I dropped mine. Um... I caught him again. I got him out of the water,

I was panicking, and I kind of fished him out of the water, and he came up with a smile on his face, like it was Esther Williams in a water ballet. Like he just... I was like, we are not the same person. Maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, aroi, a school as my son, which was a very leveling experience. We weren't in the same class, obviously, because that would be weird. But we were in the next lane to each other. And it's a weird thing. It is a weird thing to look around a pool that is full of swimming lessons and realize

that there are 50 people in that pool, and you are the only person who is older than five. And you also think, don't think about what's gone in the water. maia pili pa menei, maia pili pa menei. Ako maia pili, maia pili pa menei i wata. Ako maia pili pa menei i wata. Ako maia pili pa menei i wata, maia pili pa menei i wata. Ako maia pili pa menei i wata. Ako maia pili pa menei i wata. Ako maia pili pa menei i wata.

Ako maia pili pa menei i wata. Ako maia pili pa menei i wata. Ako maia pili pa menei i wata. Ako maia pili pa menei i wata. Ako maia pili pa menei i wata. Ako maia pili pa menei i wata. Ako maia pili pa menei i wata. Ako maia pili pa menei i wata. Ako maia pili pa menei i wata. I put my face in the water and I freaked out and I stood up again and she went, I know what your problem is, you've got to breathe air out your nose. And I went, what are you talking about?

It was a revelation to me. I had no idea. I had no idea you were supposed to blow air out your nose when you swam. I just thought you guys were better at dealing with the horrible torment of having water forced up your nose. I thought everyone just dealt with it. It was like, ah, it feels like shit, but I'm fine, I'm fine.

And so she cured me. She cured my breathing. It was amazing. The first swimming lesson, I did like five meters with the kickboard breathing, and I felt like Ian Thorpe. I was like, obviously, an Ian Thorpe with low expectations, but an Ian Thorpe, right? And I was like, that's it, I'm cured, I can swim,

I can totally do it. And I went back to the next lesson, thinking that I was not afraid of water anymore. But this thing happens when you've been afraid of something for so long, Maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, maiai, ma my nose, it's okay, but my hindbrain was going, no, the witness kills us, game over, man, game over! And it took me weeks to get over the fear of putting my face in the water, but gradually I got better and better and I learned how to swim and I stopped using a kickboard. And then finally, finally, at the end of the term,

six months after I started, because I didn't wanna rush it, because it had been 38 years, so don't pick it up quickly. At the end of six months, I swam my first 25 meter length, and I got to the end of the pool, and I was so euphoric, and my little boy was at the end of the pool, and I went,

mommy just swam my first length! And my son went, good job, mommy go and do another one. And I had this revelation that like, like I've done a whole lot of things for the first time, I swam my first length, I've gone to a pool on purpose for pleasure with my husband, and I've swum so much, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, I'm still a 44-year-old woman who's just learned to swim, but in six months' time, I will just be a 44-year-old woman who can swim, and that's every 44-year-old woman.

And so I'm gonna have to come up with a new story at parties that makes me mildly interesting. So I'm gonna go with being a magnificent archer. Thank you. That was Cal Wilson. Originally from New Zealand, Cal was a much-loved comedian, storyteller, writer, and actor whose talent, generosity, and friendship has been at the heart of the Australian comedy scene for the past two decades.

She became one of Australia and New Zealand's best known comedians and regularly appeared on TV and shows such as Would I Lie to You, QI, I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here, her own Netflix stand-up special, and most recently, as co-host of The Great Australian Bake Off. She died after a short illness in 2023 and is widely missed by all those who knew and worked with her around the world. In Selena Brennan's words, Cal made it safe for all of our storytellers to be vulnerable because she led by example.

She was our OG host and has left a big hole in our Melbourne Moth community, but an impressive legacy for us to continue. I myself met Cal a few years ago when I flew to Melbourne to help put on their very first grand slam. Watching her host was like being given the warmest hug. Her love for the slams and the storytellers was contagious. I'd like to leave you with something Cal wrote for the Sydney Herald in 2018. After she passed, so many of us at the Moth Office re-read it.

And at least for me, it really reaffirmed what we aim to do here. Here's a section. Stories connect us. They show us we're not alone. Telling a story can take the power out of a secret, lift a weight off your shoulders, or give you courage. There's nothing like seeing someone discover how funny they are, or share something real and painful, and have a whole audience shout love back at them.

We'll have a link to Cal's full article in the show description, along with information on how you too can share your own story and hear the stories shared by others. That's it for this episode. From all of us here at The Moth, we hope a whole audience shouts love back at you soon. Chloe Salmon is a director at The Moth. Her favorite Moth moments come on show days

when the cardio is done, the house lights go down, and the magic settles in. This episode of The Moth Podcast was produced by Sarah Austin-Genese, Sarah Jane Johnson, and me, Mark Solinger. The rest of The Moth's leadership team includes Sarah Haberman, Jennifer Hickson, Meg Bowles, Kate Tellers, Marina Clujet, Suzanne Rest,

Brandon Grant Walker, Leeigh Ann Gully, and Aldi Casa. 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 give back. 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.