Birthday Stranger #13 (2024)
The last few years I’ve felt a need for the Birthday Stranger Project to change.
In February I sat staring at the final draft of this year’s classified (where I look to recruit a new stranger to share a meal with on my birthday) & couldn’t bring myself to submit it to the St. Louis Reddit. It just didn’t feel right.
What message could be expressed that I hadn’t touched on before? Each of the past 12 birthday strangers changed the trajectory of my life in a way I couldn’t squander.
Besides, since 2020 I’ve heard so many people express loneliness, social lacking, & general sadness. I experienced this myself, not to mention having lost a friendship over a misunderstanding last year.
Last year
2023 was a rough year. Noncommittal responses to my frequent social requests left me feeling lonely & like a burden. The only person who really responded excitedly to my invitations (family & a few excluded) was the friend I ended up losing.
The urge to break out of my comfort zone reached its limit.
One of the few things outside my comfort zone was something I witnessed eight birthdays ago.
SG was my fifth birthday stranger; we shared a meal back in 2016. After our meal he took me to watch his serial improvisation group Heartbreak perform at The Improv Shop.
I had no idea what improv was at the time. I had no appreciation for the practice or performance. But I did know one thing: it wasn’t for me.
Seven years later, though, in an outlandish challenge, I signed up for the beginner’s improv class at The Improv Shop. (which is now at the East end of The Grove)
I saw it as a crucible & tempered any hopes of making friends.
It was not the one-off I anticipated. In fact, it was nothing I anticipated.
This year
There I was, four months after that first class staring at the screen unable to hit Submit on my Reddit post looking to find a new stranger. I knew instead I had to contact SG.
He enthusiastically accepted the invitation to re-interview. There was much to discuss.
That which is unlisted
Much in our lives was different.
Several months & two improv levels later I find myself living a life that would have been delightfully unrecognizable to me this time last year.
SG has had a somewhat fabled few years himself.
He got married in 2019, had two kids, & moved back to Illinois.
His family moved into a house his parents previously rented – behind his parent’s home. SG chuckled, calling it a “sit-commy adjustment” having occasional parental pop-ins.
“People feel a certain way about the place they grew up,” he said, noting it wasn’t a feeling of failure or regression by moving back, just kind of surreal & strange. “It’s a place… you mainly keep in memories.” There was a “marvel at how much larger the trees are,” he observed.
It’s the same for me: it feels like living in a memory when I visit my childhood town.
SG describes the area he now lives as “storybook with creeks, hills, & trees.” I describe his home as “fairytale.”
The home, built in 1963, was inhabited by artists followed by potters. As SG ventured beyond the tree line he discovered hidden enchantment.
There are a handful of sculptures emerging from the ground or overtaken by brush. There are over 40 trees that have been bestowed with faces – some of which have been partially entombed by bark.
There’s even the skeleton of a merry-go-round. To his surprise, it spun quietly as his smiling son once held to the metal frame while riding it.
The house is “very split level… like seven, with sunken areas.” There’s even a bunker he uses as a server room.
None of these wonders were in the property’s original listing. Sometimes the magic of what’s to come is not listed in our expectations. Sometimes what’s to come takes seven years to emerge.
Lookout kid
There is a nearby lookout where, as a kid, SG placed a bench to enjoy the view. It’s where he, at 12, deemed the best place to propose. It’s where he did propose & near the campground where he got married.
SG shared the chronicle of his wedding & after party; storms, flooding, power outages, relocation to higher ground, & other snags. But he emphasized “there’s more fun if there’s a complication.” It was an epic event in the end. Stars appeared in a clear sky while DJ Pretty Dope Mike led the party till 4AM.
This is the same campground where he hosts an annual friend camp he started with his “idiot friends” over a decade ago. Many of these people are improv people or those whom he met through improv.
Met through improv
SG explained that many of the improvisers who were part of the inception of The Improv Shop were also on Kick Van Dyke - the kickball team he was on.
The Improv Shop began with Craigslist ads for free improv classes in Washington University classrooms. It’s a fantastic piece of history that they had no permission to use these classrooms.
The growing group moved to the Tin Can Tavern, then the upper floor of The Pat Connolly Tavern, then to the basement of Brennan’s in the Central West End before securing their first proper location at 510 N. Euclid Ave.
That location is where I saw SG perform in 2016. I still remember the layout; the front door opened into a large room with the stage immediately to the right & the audience facing the door, a bar behind them.
SG described one of the funniest things that came out of that layout. One night during a show the performing group decided that scene edits (actions that end one scene & begin another) would be when someone entered that front door & accompanied by the playing of California Love by 2Pac & Dr. Dre. The audience “went wild” he beamed.
He speaks about his time there with a glimmer in his eyes.
As a student he made a Facebook group for his class so they could chat with each other & organize better. I imagine this was one of the precursors to the shop’s Friendo program – where graduates can retake classes for free in exchange for fostering communication & organization as well as bolstering the community of the class.
He credits the people for drawing him in. He explained, “People are fucking interesting. Many people I’d never have crossed paths with… became very good friends… and that’s a really good role for improv.”
That’s been my experience too. As I’ve said before, we have no idea what role a stranger will play in our life.
The roles people play
There’s no way to list all of the ways each birthday stranger has changed my life, but to name a few: the media I like, ways I think, the breaking of stereotypes, games I play, what I wear, even tattoos I’ve gotten.
I thanked SG for playing the role he has in my life, a role that took seven years to manifest – timing that was just right. He was humble & grateful.
I’ve made friends in improv with the coolest humans I’d not have met any other way. That is a great role for improv and they are true friends.
While I have zero idea how other improv institutions teach & support I can say this: The Improv Shop fosters a community of trust that I didn’t know could exist. This makes total sense in light of what improvisers do: be vulnerable with each other as a collaborative art form.
“I’ve gone out on stage with nothing but my trust in my friends,” is how SG worded it, explaining “those are people who have each other’s back on & off the stage.”
These new friends supported and inspired me to express myself at a critical time.
Any reservations I had about being completely myself around classmates evaporated during an unexpected level one exercise. Our wonderful instructor shared about the shame she used to feel over showing enthusiasm about the things she loved. Thanks to her honesty & other shares I left class ready to make a fool of myself with friends.
Truly weird & Weirdly true
“There’s a bit of scaffolding you need … we’re going to do this weird thing. But I’m not weird & you’re not weird but we actually are weird but it’s ok.” That’s how SG described improvisation.
While it’s not therapy there is something therapeutic about tapping into the play of childhood. The night before my second level class I dreamt class was literally playing with friends on a playground. This was an insight.
Young children at play are free to explore & expose their feelings without being self conscious. The veil of adulthood has yet to appear. (Take Shel Silverstein’s poignant poem Masks for example.)
As socialized adults we tend to behave behind the norms & mores of our culture. But in improv we are urged to explore & expose those natural feelings again. This is also what makes it challenging & rewarding.
SG quoted Del Close, the father of modern improv: “Wear your character like a thin veil. Find out what's inside you & what's true, as compared to working so hard on the fake.”
When SG added, “Sometimes the veil is extremely fucking thin. Sometimes it is pretty threadbare,” something clicked inside my brain.
Being oneself is what makes improvisation meaningful & that’s why it’s entertaining; it’s cathartic. We must be aware of our real emotions & honest with ourselves about feeling them. (One classmate happened to say that her desire to be honest with herself was her reason for taking classes.)
This practice as taught at The Improv Shop is built on a community of trust & vulnerability. To me, it’s a living breathing third place. (more)
Community as a place
This happens to complement something I began working on last year: the project that’s replacing The Birthday Stranger Project going forward. I’m taking all I’ve experienced and learned over the last 13 years in & outside the project and applying it on a larger scale in response to all the sorrow I’ve witnessed the last few years.
It’s called The Hopeful Platonics. It’s not associated with improv or Zen or politics or anything besides building a community of people who acknowledge the strengths in others and who accept & trust each other exactly for who they are, differences & all. I have faith in the people who are participating right now. They are amazing humans.
Supporting & highlighting each other’s strengths is how we’ll grow. I don’t know what the future holds for the social club but I believe we will do good in the world.
Inspiration came from a few sources. My wife: a tenacious force of good. B.S.: a champion of community & support. M.G.: a reminder that friends shouldn’t all be like us. J.M.: a host extraordinaire & embracer of the weird. Tash: a faraway friend who helped me get through the pandemic, making me appreciate the power of friendship. The Bus: a spirited online community I’ve been a part of since 2021. Kalen McAllister: a wonderful leader with a heart for those in need & my Zen teacher, who’s taught me how to apply practice to the world at large. Ann Velasco, LCSW, the therapist who directed me to work on long term mental health goals. Thank you all & everyone else who’s supported me.
At this time I’m uncertain if I’ll document this project but will announce it here if I do.
Cheesy corn
SG & I shared a long hug at the end of our meal. I thanked him again for his role in my life to which he admitted, “I think a lot of people that have that impact on another person never know it… you put yourself out there in the first place. You did the birthday stranger thing.”
This is a love letter to SG. This is a love letter to each Birthday Stranger. This is a love letter to The Improv Shop community. This is a love letter to each of my instructors & especially my classmates.
This is my cheesy corny sentimental side, a side I used to feel embarrassed about.
In fact, use of this phrasing in a text is how I came to realize I am accepted for exactly who I am. I knew a friendship was special when she responded, “Never lose your cheesy corn. It's your superpower. I'm very grateful to call you my friend.”