The Moth - The Moth Radio Hour: Dog Mother, Tour Guide, and Milli Vanilli

Episode Date: August 25, 2021

A woman becomes a stepmother to a dog, a tour guide in Toronto confronts racism, a mother learns the meaning of “Little pitchers have big ears”, and one half of the pop duo Milli Vanilli tells his side of the story. Hosted by The Moth's Senior Producer, Jenifer Hixson. The Moth Radio Hour is produced by The Moth and Jay Allison of Atlantic Public Media. Hosted by: Jenifer Hixson Storytellers: Sara Barron, Falen Johnson, Catherine Palmer, and Fabrice Morvan.

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 from PRX. This is the month radio hour. I'm Jennifer Hickson. The Moth is true stories told live, stories of human interactions, some that have been pulled from the pages of a supermarket tabloid, or others that could have been pulled from

the pages of your own life. In this hour, we have some of both. Our first story comes from Sarah Baron. For years, Sarah hosted one of our monthly Moth story slams at the bitter end on Bleaker Street in New York City. Between other people's stories, she'd be on stage sharing the most terrible and hilarious tales

of the single life, pretty much eight years of bad dates. And then one night, she brought this bearded guy to the show, and he sat right up front, enjoyed the evening immensely, and the rest is history. He's the guy in the story you're about to hear. Here's Sarah Baron, live at the mouth. I married a man named Jeff. And my marriage to Jeff made me a stepmother, to a dog.

And what I mean when I say that is not just that Jeff had a dog and now that we're married, we kind of have the dog together, although that is true. What I mean more specifically is that Jeff shares custody of a dog with his ex-girlfriend. And as I am now his wife, I also share custody of a dog with his ex-girlfriend. I found out about this dog share situation very early in the relationship. The first time I went over to his apartment, there was a dog there, and he's like, what, what?

And I'm like, oh my god, hi. Are you a cutie? Are you a little cutie? I'm not really a dog person. Um... I'm not not a dog person. It's just that prior to owning one myself, I was unfamiliar with the unconditional love of an animal. And so to me, it always seemed like a lot of poop, not a lot of conversation, and I just

wasn't very interested. However, if I was interested in a man who owned a dog, I would not a lot of conversation, and I just wasn't very interested. However, if I was interested in a man who owned a dog, I would do a full song and dance about the dog to lock the business down. Because I always felt it was this very weird sort of like surreal audition for my maternal innocence. So I'm like, ah, blah, just your dog. And then when we play it, I'm back at the apartment, but this time no dog. I'm like, ah, ah, just your dog. And then one week later, I'm back at the apartment. But this time, no dog. I'm like, Jeff, where's the dog? And Jeff says, oh, funny thing, actually,

is I share custody of the dog with my ex. And I'm like, that is super funny. And then he said, OK, but in a non-sarcastic way, I ask, how do you feel about the dog share? And I said, well, I don't know, really, because I didn't. There was part of me that was kind of like, OK, great. This is what the modern people are doing. So that.

But then the other part of me was like, the shit sounds dysfunctional. What? The other part of me was like the shit sounds dysfunctional, what? And it really was both those things that I was like smitten with Jeff, hashtag, early days, and dumb. And so I did what you do when you're smitten, which is you just act agreeable. Like you're not actually even acting agreeable because you're so smitten, you feel so agreeable. And then it's like roll acting agreeable because you're so smitten, you feel so agreeable.

And then it's like, roll of the dice is to whether or not I'm gonna resent you for this later on. A few quick words on the dog. She is, she's a miniature schnauser, and she has pretty cute act, really. And her name is Leica. Few quick words on the X.

She is a human woman. She's also pretty cute, actually. And her name is Gina. Jeff and Gina were together for 10 years, which is a long time. Never married, no kids. Jeff was the one to end it, and two months after Jeff ended it, which is not a long time, Jeff met me, and one month after Jeff met me, which is also not a long time.

Gina found out about us. She found out that we were dating, which was horrible horrible and which happened because Jeff and I had gone to dinner with this good friend of mine and she loved him and he loved her and she liked love this together and it was like one of these like good social evenings out and because those kinds of things don't actually exist if you don't take a photo and then put them up on Facebook. I awoke the following morning to discover to my profound dismay that my friend had put a photograph of Jeff and me together up on Facebook, and not only that she tagged us, and not only that she'd used the caption lovebirds. words. Few quick words on me. Prior to meeting Jeff I was single, which I know is a given,

but the reason that I kind of want to make a point of saying that is it's not just that I was single. I self-identified as single. I've been single a lot. I'd been on so many dates. I'd been on so many dates with so many men who are like Sarah. I think you're great, but the thing is, et cetera. And so when suddenly I was the one with the guy and a fellow member of my sisterhood was in pain, in part because of me, I made a promise, not dissimilar from the Girl Scout promise. On my honor, I will try to serve the sisterhood of single women by being kind and understanding to this one woman who just went through a breakup and to live by the Girl Scout law. Should have been effortless, but it wasn't effortless.

And the reason why, at least in part, was because I had not prepared, and that was on me, but I had not prepared for the amount of involvement that Gina seemed to want in Jeff's current life. I'm talking in addition to any and all kind of dog-related things, right? So there's a lot of calling. There's a lot of texting. There is a lot of activity on the old Facebook page.

A lot of kind of like, we really need to catch up over coffee. We really need to catch up over dinner. And the best part of me understood that all that stuff, every single inch of it, was about a woman who was in pain, right? She's going through a breakup, these things take time, and she had had no time.

But the worst part of me, which is basically me, I really wanted her to go away. And that made me feel really bad about myself. Around the one year mark, something seemingly insignificant, but actually quite significant happened, and that is that Jeff had a mole removed, stay with me. . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Because he comes from a long line of people who are like if you don't go to the doctor then the problem isn't there Whereas I come from a long line of people who are like if you don't go to the doctor you're gonna die And I had my eye on this mole, okay, it was dangerously textural and I was like no it needs to go and The day following the mole removal he does this very tiny little intentionally funny Post about it on Facebook and Gina Gina, as is her way, leaves a comment. This comment in particular, read as follows.

What? No. You are at least 1% less yourself without that mole. I shall mourn its passing. And I read that particular comment, and I thought about it for a second. And I don't know what the technical medical term is for what happened next. But speaking as a layperson, I can tell you that I went ape shit. It was as though like every little, are you kidding me?

That I've been suppressing down for a year, exploded into the big grade. Are you fucking kidding me of my life? I lost my mind, I screamed, I pounded my fist against the wall. I was saying things out loud to myself, like, you know what, Gina, just go ahead and write. Jeff and I are so close on Facebook. I know what he looks like naked, on Facebook, seriously.

Just do it because it would at least be more honest and direct if you did. I was so angry for a multitude of reasons. Number one, because I've been repressing my so angry for a multitude of reasons. Number one, because I've been repressing my natural feelings for a year, and that's going to do it to you. Number two, because Gina wasn't going anywhere because of Likah. She was around and she was staying around, and I felt so powerless as a result of this. Number three, because I'd been reminded as I so often was of the length and intimacy of Jeff and Gina's relationship. It was like, oh, right, yes, of course.

Of course, she knows that mole because they shared a bed together for 10 years. It's like such an overwhelming length of time. And number four, because that mole was some pre-cancerous shit. It was the mole, but it was everything. And so, because if you cannot run away from the wave, you must then dive into the wave. I did the only thing I knew how to do. I went back to the computer, I went back onto Facebook, I went back to Gina's comment. I clicked on Gina's profile.

I clicked on the message button on Gina's profile. And then I wrote the following. Gina. In light of our particular relationship, let me get straight to the point. I was thinking maybe we should meet up for a drink. I think it might be helpful for the both of us. Let me know what you think. All best, Sarah.

Two hours later, Gina wrote back, Sarah, I read your message and had two prevailing thoughts. The first was thank you. The second was fuck off. But the thing is the part of me that thinks thank you is the part I like the best. So yeah, let's do it. Let's go for a drink. Three nights later, Gina and I, just the two of us, met up for a drink. Personally, I prepared for what I now call the X Games of Emotions,

with a manicure, and because I was so nervous about the whole thing from the get-go, and then what made it worse is that the subway broke down on the way there, and so I had to literally run the last 15 minutes. So I just remember like walking into the spa and being like my face is on fire, my face is on fire. And then Gina walked in and she looked perfect and that made me more nervous. And so then as my conversational entree, I said, hi, you look like all the photos of you that I've stopped on Facebook. But it was hashtag too soon and she didn't laugh, not that she should have, and it was just like totally a mess. But eventually I stopped sweating, thank you guys very much.

And then we had a drink, and then we had a couple of drinks. Gina talked about how so many of her actions toward Jeff just felt to her, like this fight for a friendship with Jeff. I talked about how I made the promise of the sisterhood of single girls to her, but it didn't go great. And we talked together about what it was that we both represented to the other person, which of course, that you can build a life with someone, and that person can choose to leave.

That all took one hour, but we wound up out together for another five. It was kind of like once all that baggage was off me and on the table, I could start to realize that I actually kind of liked her. I thought she was much more self-aware in person than I thought she seemed online. I thought she was funny, I thought she was much more self-aware in person than I thought she seemed online. I thought she was funny. I thought she was warm and I really appreciated that she was open to talking all this stuff out in the attempt of diffusing it. And I walked in the front door at

three in the morning and Jeff was like, oh my god, I was worried she killed you. And I was like, what? my girl, gee, no way! We defused it and I liked her and she liked me and I understand why you were with her and it's possible that I'm drunk and I just feel so good. That feeling was not sustainable because even if you like a person in person, if you're mostly not in person and if they do tend to text your husband a bit more often than you'd like, you can still get the tiniest bit annoyed. One afternoon several months later, I took Leica out for a walk all by myself,

and on the way we met, this other miniature schnauzer, and I got to talking with the owner, like you do, and she was like, oh, your dog's so cute. I was like oh thank you your dog so cute and she's like how old is she and I was like oh she's five how old is he and she's like oh he's 18 ma'am are you okay and I am I'm great I have 13 years to work out all my problems. Thank you guys. That was Sarah Baron. She's the author of People Are Unappealing and The Harm in Asking. She, her husband and their part-time dog are all in good health. To see a picture of Sarah and the dog looking cozy, visit our radio extras page at themoth.org.

When we come back, a story about one of those guided walking tours and what happens when a random and very vocal guy decides to just join the group. What do you do? That's coming up next on the Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts, and presented by PRX. This is the Moth Radio Hour from PRX. I'm Jennifer Hickson. This next story is from our first ever Moth show in Canada. The story is set in Toronto and our storyteller, Phelan Johnson, starts with an anecdote she heard a famous actor tell at a lecture series.

Here's Phelan, live in Toronto. So a few years ago, I heard the story that Graham Green told. Now I should specify that I mean Graham Green, the First Nations actor, not Graham Green, the English novelist. If you don't know who Graham Green is, he was in a bunch of 90 sort of blockbusters, movies. He was in dances with wolves. He was in diehard three. And my personal favorite, Thunderheart. So Graham has this story about one of his first acting gigs, and it was here in Toronto.

And so, he's cast in this play. And in this play, Graham has to enter from outside the theater. He has to enter from the alleyway. And so one night he's getting ready to make his entrance and he's listening for his queue line when a cop cruiser goes by. He's him standing there. Now the cops assume that he's just some first nation's guy

loitering in the alley. And they say, hey, what are you doing? And he says, well, I'm in this play, and I'm waiting for my cue. And the cops say, yeah, right, buddy, don't go anywhere. But at that moment, Graham hears his cue queue line and he runs on the stage. Pursued by the two police. Who at that moment realized that he was in fact in a play. And so were they.

So I've always really liked the story because I think it says something about the visibility of First Nations people and Indigenous people in the city. There is this idea that they are unseen unless they're presumed guilty. So I'm First Nations. I'm Mohawk and Tuscarora from Six Nations Reserve, which is about an hour and a half outside the city, and to look at me, a lot of people would not guess that I am. And that can be hard, because when I walk through the city, I'm just some white chick.

And when I'm on the reserve, it's who the hell is that white chick? And it hurts, you know, because I'm really proud of who I am, and where I come from, and my family. And so I work in theater, and a few years ago, know because I'm really proud of who I am and where I come from and my family. And so I work in theater and a few years ago I was approached by a summer works theater festival which is a festival here in town. And they asked me they said hey do you want to create a walking tour? And I was like what does that mean exactly?

And they were like what we want to do walking tours for the festival this year. And we want you to make one. So it's got to be about an hour long, and it has to be around our festival hub, which is like the main venue for the festival, and it can be about whatever you want. And so I thought about it. The thing is, the festival hub was really close

to the intersection of Queen and Spadina. And if you're not familiar with that area, it can be kind of rough. There's a large homeless population there. And a lot of the people who live there are first nations. So I thought about myself, my pink self, walking through that area, giving a tour.

And it made me a little bit uncomfortable. But then I thought, you know what? Maybe this is a good opportunity for me walking through that area, giving a tour. And it made me a little bit uncomfortable. But then I thought, you know what? Maybe this is a good opportunity for me to really address my white complex to, you know, like, get over some stuff, and deal with it. And also, the Graham Green story

had happened near that intersection. So I thought, okay, well, at least I have that. Can I go and rely on that? So I said, yes. So I put the tour together, and I decided to call it invisible Toronto. And I talk about sort of racism in the city. I talk about wooden Indians and Halloween costumes and sports team mascots and how racism has become so embedded in our

culture that we don't see it anymore. I talk about the history of the city, pre-paper, the indigenous history of the city. I talk about a drop-in center that history of the city, pre-paper, the indigenous history of the city. I talk about a drop-in center that's in the area where they offer services for some of the homeless population things like internet and telephone and a fridge to store food. I talk about colonization and genocide in a really entertaining way. And then I get to tell my grand green story.

So I do the tour. It's going well. People seem to like it. And I'm on my second to last tour of the series. And I get ready to go out and I look at the group of people that I'm going to be guiding that day. And I see there's a couple of artistic directors in the audience and I'm like, that's good.

And there's the usual suspects, the sort of like older women who look like young grandmothers who are wearing floral dresses and sun hats and lots of sunscreen and tote bags, cats on it. And there's the artistic types, the theater types, those kinds of folks. And there's also always one older white man who fancies himself a historian, and he's there to make sure that I am not screwing this up.

And so we sat out on the tour, and I'm talking about it, and everyone seems to like it. It seems to be going really, really well. And I'm like, good, good, this is going good. Until about the midpoint of the tour, where a really drunk, really rowdy, really bloody guy decides to join us. And so I'm struggling here because I can see it's making people kind of uncomfortable that this guy is standing there, but also this whole thesis, my thesis of this tourist, to make the invisible scene, to make people have to see this kind of thing.

So I'm like, okay, what do I do here? And so I hand him a little flyer that explains what the tour is and what we're doing. And he takes it and he reads it and seems to like it. And so he comes along and we get to the grand green stop and he loves the story. Like it's laughing harder and longer than anyone else. It is the funniest thing that he has ever heard in his entire life.

But people in the tour are getting really uncomfortable here. They look kind of afraid. And to be honest, I'm a little bit afraid of him. He's covered in blood. So I tell him, I'm like, OK, listen, you can come. But you have to be quiet, all right? And he goes, OK, OK. And so we continue on. And we get to the stop where I talk about the drop-in center

and the services they offer. And I say, phone, and internet. And he screams, lockers, lockers, lockers. And I say, yes, they have lockers, which is a really important thing if you're living without a place, without a home, having a safe spot to keep your stuff is really, really valuable.

So I know that this guy probably has a locker here and I know that he probably has his stuff in there. And so we continue on and we get to the question and answer stop. And I say, does anyone have questions? And he immediately shoots his hand up in the air and he says, hey, so my people are Spanish. And we did a lot of terrible things to your people.

What do I do about that? And I am rendered speechless. Because it is exactly the kind of thing that I wanted people to take away from this experience. This is the question that I wanted people to ask me. I just didn't think it was going to come from someone like him. And I'm also a little bit speechless, because the entire time that this guy was on the tour, I thought he was first nations. And that's a little uncomfortable for me. And so once I get my words back, I say, well, by doing things like this, by coming on

tours like this, and by questioning history, and by asking beautiful, simple questions, like the one that you just asked me. And he nods his head, and he's satisfied with my answer. And so we start to walk back to the festival hub for the end of the tour. And we're walking down the street, and I see someone coming towards us. And he's coming pretty quickly.

And he is buff, and he is shirtless, and he is first nations. I am sure of it this time. And he walks directly up to our bloody Spanish friend and he says, you, hey, you, you touch my hair again, I will kick your ass like I did yesterday. I will kick your ass. And the Spanish man shrinks. He becomes so tiny and it is heartbreaking to witness.

And so I know I've got to do something, right? Because number one, I'm in charge here. And number two, I owe this guy. I owe him something now. So I slide in between the two men, and I look up at the really buff shirtless First Nations guy, and I say, hey, man, you don't want to do this. And then I brace myself.

And then the craziest thing happens. I hear, leave him alone and get out of here. And don't you touch him. And I look over, and I see the tour group of young grandmothers with cat, tote bags, and skeptical white guys. And they're all yelling at this young First Nations guy to leave our bloody Spanish friend alone.

And I am shocked. And the Spanish guy is shocked. But by far the most shocked person is the shirtless First Nations guy. Because somehow in 24 hours this Spanish man that he kicked the snot out of a like a night ago has somehow gathered a crew. And we love theater and we will take him out. And so the first nation's guy takes a step back, refocuses on our bloody Spanish friend, he says, all right, man, I'm going to leave you alone. You want to know why?

Because you're an elder. And again, I'm like, what? In my culture, elders are really revered. People, they're the pillars of our communities. And so, for this young First Nations guy, to give that honor to someone that he had just beaten up the night before was really complex. And the First Nations guy with that just takes off.

So we get back to the festival hub and, you know, we're all feeling pretty tough. It's been a really good tour. And people come up to me and they shake my hand and they say how great it was. And it's, you know, it's good. And the last person to come up to me

is my bloody Spanish friend. And he shakes my hand and he says, thank you. I learned a lot. And he turns and walks away. And so when I walk through the city now, I definitely still feel pretty invisible as a first nations person. But when I walk by Queen and Bathurst,

I don't feel as scared as I used to. And I've never seen my bloody Spanish friend again, but I do hope wherever he is that he has a locker and that stuff is safe. Thanks. That was Phalan Johnson in Toronto. Phalan is a writer and her play Salt Baby has toured all over Canada. As you heard, she's Mohawk and Tuscarora and grew up in six nations. While working on this story with her, I realized I had a lot of questions about her heritage, her history, about the right language to use when talking about native people. She laughed and said she was used to it it and that she encourages people to ask questions. She said, questions mean your listening and it

means a lot to be heard. To see a picture of Faelin while she was doing research for her walking tour, visit the radio extras page at themoth.org. She said she really wishes she had a picture of herself with the bloody man. She probably have that one framed. Next up, from a Pittsburgh story slam at a club called Direct's, Catherine Palmer. The theme of that open mic night was Vices. Here's Catherine. My husband stays home with our two boys, and this wasn't an accident of circumstance. This was a conscious decision on his part. It's a lot like his parenting, really thoughtful and purposeful.

You're probably thinking this is kind of a recipe for an idyllic childhood when there's an adult who looks out for you and you're the most important thing to them, and you're right. You probably also don't think this is a recipe for a vice-filled childhood or a vice-filled story, but you'd be wrong, because my kids have two parents, and I'm the other one. I don't stay home with my boys.

I actually work a lot, and as part of my work, I travel quite a bit. And I've always been worried that the boys when they're older will look back and feel like I was the parent that wasn't around. So my solution to that is whenever I travel for work, I just bring everybody with me. So we've really given a new meeting to no child left behind. So when I had a meeting in Jackson, Hawaii, which is the home of the Grand Teton, it wasn't

a surprise that everybody packed up to come along. So this was a meeting of really close colleagues. These are people who work really hard, but they play even harder. So after the first day of intense presentations, they had a big outdoor barbecue, and they roasted an entire bison. And for two little boys, it doesn't really get better

than that. So we're about an hour into this party, and I look around and I realize people are pretty intoxicated. There's a lot of wild turkey being consumed. I don't drink actually when I'm on the road with my boys and you probably think I'm being a good role model. But I actually have this plan to make up for the fact

that I'm not a thoughtful parent. I kind of parent it random and often not with great results. So I have this plan that if either of my boys ever needs a kidney when we're traveling, I will be sober and able to donate. Now, I don't know how often people need emergency kidneys, but I take great pride in knowing that I'm going to finally be that go-to person for my boys. So we're an hour into this party.

It's getting dark. I'm definitely the last person left sober, and I realize I have not seen my five, or five year old, or eight year old, in about 30 minutes. So I start to look, and in the distance I see the boys, and I'm looking and I realize it looks like they both have shock glasses in their hands.

So I start to move a little faster, and I must have looked concerned, because the bartender yelled out, man, don't worry, that's not while Turkey they're drinking the red death. Not sure how that was meant to make me feel better, but as I continued on, he said that's a surely temple and a shot glass. And I get to the boys and there with two of my colleagues who definitely have wild turkey in their shot glasses.

They've raised their glasses and suddenly I hear my sweet little five-year-old say, let's drink to long-legged women. Mm. Mm. Mm. Needless to say, it's time to call it a night. Much to my boys, to Sme, we say our goodbyes, and we head back to the cabin.

This is clearly a parenting moment. There are lessons to be learned about respecting alcohol, respecting women, respecting ourselves. But I'm not that parent. I'm from New England. And when we're confronted with uncomfortable situations, we really like to ignore them. And honestly, when is this ever going to come up again?

So fast forward a month. We're back home and it's the Sunday before Thanksgiving. We're headed to church and I teach in my older boys' classroom and church is important to us and like most churches were focused on Thanksgiving holiday that Sunday before and I think most churches are focused on that teamwork between Native Americans and pilgrims and all the things we have to be thankful for. But not our church. We're unitarians. And if you don't know what that is, that's a questioning religion that

provides no answers and precious little comfort and times of need. So I am the older boys classroom. We're really focused on the sham that is Thanksgiving. They're really set up the Native Americans to be screwed by their new friends. But the little kids, the little ones where my younger son is, they're focused on being

thankful, which is nice. So about 15 minutes left of church, and it's my job to get the snack for the older kids. So I go to the snack table, and when you're standing there, you can see into the little kids classroom without being seen. And it's a great way to check on my little man each day, each Sunday. So as I'm gathering together, the vegan, gluten, and peanut-free snack for the older kids, I take a look in.

And I see they've set a Thanksgiving table complete with cornucopia and a cute little Thanksgiving plates. And I'm kind of captivated. So I watch for a couple minutes. And I see the teachers pouring everybody a cup of juice. And I hear her say, we should have a toast. What should we drink, too? That phrase is oddly familiar.

Right as I hear my little one yell to long-legged women. So I freeze. You can't unhear things and this can't be fixed. So in true New England style, I back away reconciled to the fact that we're going to have to change religions. And I'm thinking, I'm thinking Methodist. They're pretty liberal, and I think that'll work. So church ends, and my only goal is to get out of this building

without talking to a grand teacher. And I'm pretty sure she's thinking of cornering me or calling child new services. And honestly, I'm cheering for child new services. As I feel her hand on my arm saying, do you have a minute? I don't have a minute. I have to find the method of church. I have to get the kids in rule.

But I say, of course. And as she tells me a story, I already know. I'm racking my brain for an explanation that doesn't sound something like, oh, it's something he picked up when he was doing shots with my friends. There's no upside, no upside in that explanation, and it's immense in the fact that I'm not a responsible parent. So when she pauses, I don't say anything,

and she pats my hand, and she says, I know the boys are home all day alone with your husband. Now, do I defend the man who has literally dedicated his life to these children? I would never say anything disrespectful about women. I do not. I pat her and look into her eyes and I say, I've had some concerns. And in this moment in time, I am finally the responsible parent when the perfect dad is cast as the degenerate.

And on the way home, as I bask in the, my new role is responsible parent, I realize I didn't even have to give up a kidney. So, Catherine Palmer is a college professor and audiologist. Catherine reports that the family is still unitarian. She still has both her kidneys. And if her sons are still toasting long-legged women, they're now too old for her to do much about it.

To see a picture of her boys and Jackson whole Wyoming on the night they learned the infamous toast, visit our website, themoth.org. When we come back, our final story from Fab Morvan, who was one half of a duo from the 80s called Millie Vignilli. Remember them? from Fab Morvan, who was one half of a duo from the 80s called Millie Vignelli. Remember them? Girl, you know it's true. Ooh, ooh, Massachusetts, and

presented by PRX. I'm Jennifer Hickson. Our final story involves a scandal or a controversy you might be familiar with from the headlines. If you were reading headlines back in 1990, Millie Vanillie. They were a pop duo. They had some very big hits and a very distinct look matching hair and they got very busted. Turns out the voices on the hit songs were not their voices. They were lip syncing and the story broke and Millie Vanilli was vilified.

They became the butt of a thousand jokes, public shaming. You don't wanna think about rooms every time. And when you pack a smile and everything you do, don't you understand girl, this love is stupid." A few years ago at The Moth, we were working on a casting for a show. The theme was Between Worlds, Stories of Passing. We needed one more storyteller. I said, whatever happened to Millie Vanilley? Well, Meg Bowles, The Moth's resident Sherlock, got on it.

And the next day, she put me in touch with Fab Morvan, the surviving member of the duo, Mellie Vanille. Later that day, I was talking to Fab, a very gentle soul who seemed nothing like the guy I saw in the MTV videos. He said he would love the opportunity to tell his side of the story. So here's the story as remembered by Fab It begins at the Grammys at the Shrine Theatre in Los Angeles Imagine being up for a Grammy and secretly thinking please don't let us be the winners Here's Fab Morvan

So pick to this we are at at the shrine in Los Angeles, California. It's 1990. We are at the biggest party in the music industry. It's the Grammys. We're just backstage holding our breath, listening to the MC to call out the nominees for our categories, best new artist. We are Millie Vanille and let it be tone-lok, salt-as-so, indigual girls. But not us, please, don't do this. And the winner is... Mew of a nilly! The crowd goes crazy,

we froze, but we have to get out there. With big smile on our faces as well. So we get in there, and we hold the award high and dedicated to all the artists out there with a dream. We're living in Fairytale, but there was a but. We had a secret underlying older, the good times. So now I met Rob.

When I was 19 years old in Munich, Germany, and he was 22. And he was raised by a family in Germany that were white, and he was black. And because he was black in school, he got teased a lot. So when he became a wage and could defend himself and retaliate, he adopted the motto is better to be feared.

I was born in Paris. My motto was, it was better to be loved. We were opposite personalities. He was loud and had a healthy appetite for life and very spontaneous. I was quiet, shy, and always thought twice before doing anything. But we connected. We did what young men do. We loved music, dancing, girls going out, having fun. And we had a, we had a name in the club scene. And part of it was because we looked different and we had worked really carefully on this. One night we were watching TV

and we had seen this program on Pope icons and we had noticed one thing. They have good hair. Mm, okay. Good hair. All right, okay. After thinking about it a little bit, we decided this is it.

Braight. The girls decided this is it. Braight. The girls are gonna love it. It's gonna be sexy. Let's go for that, that's one. And through the great vine, one of the biggest producer at the time, Frank Farnian, heard a little kids that could dance, they could sing, and they had great hair. So we were invited to the studio and there right away we were seduced by the music factory and the set of the art equipment, the gold records on the wall. So we were at the mercy of the big

producer, we were eager to please him. When we stopped to sound a recording contract, hell yeah, where do we sign? You know, and the only thing that rang through to our mind was, you know, mind was advance money. We need to get some food, get some clothes, and refresh the trademark, the hair. Even though there was no attorney, no managers present,

we sound his paper, but later we found out that it was not just for one single, it was for three albums. Now we're in studio A.W. Frank Farn is about to press play, and we were about to listen to Gary Knowsthrough for the first time, instrumental. The music starts and we're like, wow, the music is rocking. For the next four minutes,

Rob and I have finished size about being on television. When it stops, first question is, when are we going to record? Any mumbles? Yeah, we need to talk about that. But then something happens, something weird, because we were all smiles, we were all positive. And then the room got cold and it felt like it was getting

darker. And then we're fighting. The voice we're getting louder and louder and louder. Until the producer Frank Fein walked away, Rob turns to me and says, they don't want us to sing on the record. I'm like, but we sound a recording contract not long ago. And then he hesitating to tell him like, look, they want us to live sing. I'm like, the live sing?

No way, let's get out of here. The here came the punchline. All the money that they had given us, they said, okay, you can walk away. Just go on, move on with your life. But pay this back. We were broke. So we were against the wall. I said, okay, you can walk away. Just go on, move on with your life. But pay this back. We were broke. So we were against the wall.

All the money that had been given us, we use it to live, to eat. So now, the trap that they are carefully prepared is closing slowly but surely. The only thing for us to do is to join them because we can fight them. And the only way to get out was to get deeper in. So now we're promoting the record.

And it's exciting because people are responding to the song, they're responding to us. And this is like, wow, we are rock star. When I say, oh, you say, hey, oh, oh, oh. Just like that, imagine a young man feeling that now with your girls galore is everywhere we have so much choices. Oh God We don't know what to do with ourselves. We turn our hotel room into potty central in it food room service You know alcohol room service. We go to the club. No problem bring your friends. Everyone knows who we are We go to the club, no problem, bring your friends, everyone those we are. So now we're working and working hard and harder.

We hate the idea of lip syncing, but we love performing and making people happy. And now we're working, we're working. But then, every night, every night, it's me, myself, and I, face with reality. I didn't sing in the record. Rob didn't sing in the record, robbed in singing the record, we didn't. And that was a secret that we were holding at the Grammy. Now, Frank Fein, the great businessman that he was, already was working in the second album.

We sold by now, 30 million singles and over 7 million albums. But we're done. We decided this is it. We're going to pull the plug. We said, it's over. You know, we're done. Do whatever you want. Take us to court. Do whatever.

And he sent a very clear message. She said, I took you in. I'll take you out. Whatever, dude. We're out. A few weeks later, our assistant came running while we were finishing our morning run. The cat is on the bed! The cat is on the bed! We understood. Frank Fien, flew to New York, and told the world,

they didn't sing in the record. And we know the backlash is coming. Before we could even get back to the house, the trucks of the outside parked, camera, microphone, saliv celebrating at us arriving. We walk through the gauntlet, fat, raw, raw, fat. You have anything to say? We walk through with turnative young bands everywhere. It's media friendsy, merely vanilla lip syncing as if we were the mastermind behind it.

Being punched, boom, boom, boom, every day by public humiliation. And it's hard to take. It's very difficult. We're alone. Everybody left us there by ourselves. So we call out a press conference when we give back the Grammy, we didn't want in first place. We go home and this is it. Like, what are we going to do now? I get a chance to talk to my family to my mom and she tells me, make it right so that you can walk with your head up high no matter how long it takes. So I thought about it after some soul searching. I realized that music was part of my life and I couldn't live without it.

So I worked on myself, my skills as a songwriter, producer, musician, and I felt better, I felt hope. Rob and the AVM took it a lot harder and he went and he spiraled down, hanging out with the old friends, doing drugs to remove this pain that he had because everything was taken away. It was from famous to infamous, just like that. And it hurt. The press said, Rob died of a no of those, and I say no. He died of a broken heart. When the news came, my ears just they rang, and certainly I realized that he's not coming back from this

one. It's over. I think, yes, he got his wish, immortality. He'll be young forever. So, I looked at the horizon, and I said to myself, I'm going to channel the Spain into music, which I love. And I worked on an album called Love Revolution, and I dedicated a song to Rob Latus, called It's Your Life. And there is no bitterness. I have none. I've learned a lot, made me a better man, and I feel like I lived the life of 100 men.

But before I leave, I'd like to sing a few lines that I wrote to Rob Latis. Oh, no, don't take that I lay, you will see it's the wrong place to be for your soul. But who am I to tell you what to do? Bridge your life, bridge your life. Thank you. That was Fab Morvind with his side of the story, Live at the Moth in New York City. These days, Fab is recording music in Paris. One of the real voices behind Millie Vanilli, John Davis, passed away in May of 2021 due to COVID-19.

In the years after the Grammy controversy, Fab and John met and even performed together on the project, Face Meets Voice. You can find a photo of Fab and John singing side by side, along with other photos and videos of Fab through our website, themoth.org. That's all for this episode of The Moth Radio Hour. We hope you'll join us next time, and that's the story from The Moth. Your host this hour was Jennifer Hickson. Jennifer also directed the stories in the show, the rest of the most directorial staff includes Katherine Byrne, Sarah Haberman, Sarah Austin

Janess and Meg Bowles, production support from Whitney Jones. Most stories are true, as remembered and affirmed by the storytellers, Moth Events, are recorded by Argo Studios in New York City, supervised by Paul Ruest. A theme music is by the Drift, other music in this hour from Chandler Travis and Steve Schuch, Radditat, the West Side Horns, and Millie Vanille. You can find links to all the music we use at our website. The mall is produced for radio by me, Jay Allison, with Vicki Merrick, at Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts.

This hour was produced with funds from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, the National Endowment for the Arts, and the John D. and Captain T. MacArthur Foundation committed to building a more just, vertent and peaceful world. The Moth Radio Hour is presented by the Public Radio Exchange PRX.org. For more about our podcast for information on pitching your own story and everything else, go to our website, TheMoth.org. and everything else. Go to our website, themoth.org.