Daily affirmations of a word mercenary
Salon of Shame Category
Inspired by NYC’s Cringe, I founded the Salon of Shame in November 2005, with lots of help from my friends at A Guide To Visitors. The idea is simple: Seattle writers stand before you and read their middle school diary passages, high school poetry, unsent letters, and other bits of horribly shameful, outrageously entertaining adolescent writing. It’s cathartic for readers and hilarious for listeners. Everybody wins when it comes to embarrassment!
I think last night’s Salon of Shame may have been the best yet. We had some amazing readers who spouted brilliance like “Today I slept late again, so I skipped my ethics class” and “My main interests are horses and boys. Right now I have neither a horse or a boyfriend.” I also loved hearing the perspectives of a then-12-year-old FBI Agent report that a crumbling mansion in her neighborhood was “A place of groovy honor. I find it an easy place to dig.” We also had singing!
It was extra interesting to host this Salon given that last week I finally had the opportunity to attend Cringe, the Brooklyn-based inspiration for the Salon. What was most hilarious was seeing how, despite being sisters in some ways, the two events have their marked differences. Cringe is monthly, and held in a smaller, grittier space. There’s no stage, and in fact Sarah B. 
noted that she would never hold the event in a space with a stage, as a way to emphasize that it’s not about performing. Innnnteresting! I’d never thought of the distinction, but actually very much agree. Most shocking to me was when one Cringe reader stood up and broke the #1 rule of the Salon of Shame: she read someone else’s writing! And it was ok! Not that I’ll ever change our #1 rule, but still: it was interesting to see how the format could bend and flex to accommodate such things. There were also more male readers at Cringe. (Seattle guys: wtf is up with that!? WE NEED MORE MALE READERS.)
Perhaps the most remarkable thing to me about Cringe was the small size of the space — there’s seating for maybe 30 people, and standing room for a few more. 
This is an issue very close to my heart because after months of resisting the idea, I finally decided that the Salon’s 64-seat space just wasn’t going to cut it. We outgrew the space about a year ago, and it’s been a non-stop hell-ride since then, trying to deal with grossly sold out nights, asking journalist friends to PLEASE not write about it, pre-sale ticket yadda-yadda, etc. Call me sensitive, but I take it personally when people can’t get into an event I’m hosting. It makes me feel like an elitist, and Shame is for everyone! And so last night was the Salon’s farewell to our home since November 2005, the Jewelbox Theater. I will miss the flocked walls and red velvet curtain and cozy booths. But not the dozens of people standing outside saying “This is the third time I’ve tried to come and every time I get shut out!”
And so, starting in May we’ll be moving to a new space — Capitol Hill Arts Center. The space doubles our capacity (room for 125 seated, and up to 150 with standing room!), and I’m hoping that we never sell out ever again. For those of you who have been turned away from sold out Salons, come on May 15th and celebrate the new digs!
- 1 Comment
- Tags: jewelbox, rendezvous
The Salon of Cringe
7
Mar
2007
In: Salon of Shame
Tonight I’m reading at Cringe, Sarah B’s Brooklyn-based diary-reading event that inspired the Salon of Shame. It’s like coming home to a place I’ve never been before and I can’t wait to witness the magic first hand and share a little Seattle-style humiliation. “And now, a little 7th grade poetry comparing frogs and social insecurity — aww yeeeah, that’s how WE do it.”
This makes me happy
15
Nov
2006
In: Salon of Shame
my mom made me pose for this, originally uploaded by Sarah Brown.
I love this photo of Sarah B at the pilot filming of her Cringe TV series. Cringe, for those who’ve been in a hole for the last year, was the inspiration for the Salon of Shame, and it’s so awesome to see Sarah B. take it to the limit. One more time.
And now I wait with baited breath for the inevitable Salon of Shame vs. Cringe SMACKDOWN OF SHAME. It’s going to be awesome.
salon of shame, originally uploaded by yelahneb.It’s time for another Salon of Shame, and I still have a few openings for readers. Any Electrolicious lurkers who have been nursing an itch to come embarrass yourselves, your time has come!
WHEN: Wednesday November 8, 2006. 7:30 PM
Doors at 7pm — we usually sell out by 7:10
WHERE: The Jewelbox Theater at the Rendezvous
COVER: $5 — only $1 if you bring something to read
Small, tight dose of Shame
14
Sep
2006
In: Salon of Shame
Ah, another delicious night of Shame. I intentionally shut my yapper and underpromoted (shh: Salon of Shame. Don’t tell.), and the result was almost perfect … we had less people to turn away than last time. That’s a good thing since every person I turn away I get all sad and personally apologetic to. (We’re sold out. I know. I am so, SO sorry.) People just want their dose of Shame! I know we should probably move to a larger venue, but I just love the Jewelbox too much.
This Salon was decently documented. A few pictures are up in the brand new Salon of Shame Flickr group, and I took at least a snippet of video for each reader. It’ll take me a while to get through all my snippets (they’re all getting posted over here), but here’s one to tide you over. This is Marc Mazique’s brilliant and explicit zine-published sex poem … written before he’d lost his virginity, as the best sex poems always are.
PS: The Salon of Shame also finally has its own domain. It’s salonofshame.com of course.
Distraction
17
Jul
2006
In: Salon of Shame
Who needs a little distraction from thoughts of deep facial lacerations and head trauma? You, too? Ok! How about a 3:30 1MB .wav file of my reading from last week’s Salon of Shame? It picks up at Step 2* of my “Tips for giving a nice blowjob” written in 1993. Listen. And thanks to Twozdai for the recording!
Oh, and just so you know? People weren’t laughing at me — they were mostly laughing at Pam Parham, the amazing interpreter who was rocking the sign language. Before I began my reading, I told the audience not to bother watching me, but to keep an eye on Pam. After step 3, you hear me remind them, “Like I said: watch her.” Now if only I’D been able to see her!
*Step 1 was merely “Take your time.”
The Salon of Shame got a small mention in a Newsweek/MSNBC article: Sharing the Shame, On Stage - Newsweek Society. One small issue of contention: the article seems to suggest that both Cringe and the Salon of Shame are somehow affiliated with Mortified. That’s not true. Cringe and the Salon are both independent events. While all three events are obviously related and similar in structure and theme, the three are in no way connected.
Shame, delicious shame
13
Jul
2006
In: Salon of Shame
So how did the Salon of Shame go? I know I keep saying this every time, but last night was definitely the best one ever. Here’s why:
1. It sold out 10 minutes after the doors opened. This was actually both a good thing and a really bad thing. We turned away dozens of people, including several friends of mine. I haven’t had to deal with this level of packed house before, so while I saved seats for the deaf friends who were coming, I didn’t do things like save seats for, oh, THE READERS. This meant that there was a bit of a scramble when some readers showed up after we’d already sold out.
2. The sign language interpreter added a whole, delicious, amazing level of awesomeness to the whole thing. Let’s be clear here: readings aren’t especially visually exciting. When you have someone on the side of the stage who’s emphatically signing things like “COCKRING!” and “WINE COOLERS!” it makes the whole shebang way, way better. I want the terp there every time!
3. My blowjob reading was by far the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever presented in public, and it went over great — I think mainly because Pam, the interpreter, had a lot of fun with signing out things like “When the man in question is about to cum, put the whole penis in your mouth. DO NOT GAG!!” Listen to most of my reading by clicking here.
4. My friends who were sitting around my father during my reading reported that he muttered supportive comments like, “Yes, that’s an effective technique” while I read. BEST! DAD! EVER!
5. There were so many awesome readings last night, but I think my favorite was from Bill, who read three letters he’d written (and sent!) to himself from his imaginary girlfriend. Their “relationship” was full of turmoil and jealousy and begging forgiveness. As one person shouted from the back of the room, “YOU WIN!”
The only problem with the Salon of Shame right now is that it’s becoming a victim of its own success. The theater only holds about 70 people and last night we probably had about 100 show up. I’m resistant to moving to a bigger space because the Jewelbox Theater is so perfect with its red curtains and food/booze service and because the intimacy is really an important part of the event.
I guess the moral of the story is that if you want to come to the Salon, you better show up early. I felt extra bad for the folks who showed up around 7 and then went and got a drink at the bar without buying tickets. When they wandered up to the door with their beers at 7:30, we had to turn them away. Sad! I hope they come back in September.
Updates:
• Jill blogged her reading, which included the quote “I wish I had a different family. Or at least a taller father.”
• There are some pictures here.
Where-in I take things to a whole new level of shame
12
Jul
2006
In: Salon of Shame
Last night I was shuffling through my boxes of journals trying to find a good reading for tonight’s Salon of Shame. I found some doozies, including my Last Will & Testament from 1990, which ended “Don’t cry for me too much — I don’t want you all to suffer. But don’t forget about me either! I always did like to be the center of attention.” It was funny enough. But then, then I re-found a reading that I’d been avoiding for months. Because this, this piece of writing? It’s kind of too much, even for me.
Oh sure: I’m ok reading my rhyming 8th grade insecurity poems and my stories of barfing on dates. It’s fine to read about the boys I was mooning over. But reading a post I wrote on a BBS in 1993 that’s entitled, “How to give a nice blow job”? That’s a little bit much, even for me. Not only is it terribly written, but sex advice from a 17-year-old known for wearing Blossom hats is dubious at best. Plus, the fact that I posted this publicly? Jesus! What was I thinking? (Then again, there are those who would say it was a perfect precursor to Electrolicious, but I’ve learned my lesson: I don’t talk about sex here.)
As I sat there in my basement, reading the posting and cringing at the thought of reading it publicly, I remembered that earlier in the day I’d convinced my father to come to the Salon.
“It’ll be great, dad!” I’d said. “They’re always so much fun! You have to come!”
Shit. I totaly set myself up for this one. I momentarily considered reading the Will & Testament instead of this horrific blow job guide, but then I realized NO! This is what the Salon of Shame is all about! If you don’t cringe when you read it, if you’re not mortified when you think of sharing it with others, then it’s not shameful enough. The public airing of embarrassing writing sets you free! If Dawn could read about losing her virginity to a born-again Christian, then for God’s sake I can read my adolescent guide to fellatio in front of my father! I CAN DO THIS!
PS: If you’re thinking of coming, you better get there when doors open at 7pm. I was already expecting the show to sell out, and that was before we got slogged again.
Woohoo — The Salon was written up in The Stranger! Read the article here.
I think last night’s Salon of Shame may have been the best yet. We had some amazing readers who spouted brilliance like “Today I slept late again, so I skipped my ethics class” and “My main interests are horses and boys. Right now I have neither a horse or a boyfriend.” I also loved hearing the perspectives of a then-12-year-old FBI Agent report that a crumbling mansion in her neighborhood was “A place of groovy honor. I find it an easy place to dig.” We also had singing!
It was extra interesting to host this Salon given that last week I finally had the opportunity to attend Cringe, the Brooklyn-based inspiration for the Salon. What was most hilarious was seeing how, despite being sisters in some ways, the two events have their marked differences. Cringe is monthly, and held in a smaller, grittier space. There’s no stage, and in fact Sarah B. noted that she would never hold the event in a space with a stage, as a way to emphasize that it’s not about performing. Innnnteresting! I’d never thought of the distinction, but actually very much agree. Most shocking to me was when one Cringe reader stood up and broke the #1 rule of the Salon of Shame: she read someone else’s writing! And it was ok! Not that I’ll ever change our #1 rule, but still: it was interesting to see how the format could bend and flex to accommodate such things. There were also more male readers at Cringe. (Seattle guys: wtf is up with that!? WE NEED MORE MALE READERS.)
Perhaps the most remarkable thing to me about Cringe was the small size of the space — there’s seating for maybe 30 people, and standing room for a few more. This is an issue very close to my heart because after months of resisting the idea, I finally decided that the Salon’s 64-seat space just wasn’t going to cut it. We outgrew the space about a year ago, and it’s been a non-stop hell-ride since then, trying to deal with grossly sold out nights, asking journalist friends to PLEASE not write about it, pre-sale ticket yadda-yadda, etc. Call me sensitive, but I take it personally when people can’t get into an event I’m hosting. It makes me feel like an elitist, and Shame is for everyone! And so last night was the Salon’s farewell to our home since November 2005, the Jewelbox Theater. I will miss the flocked walls and red velvet curtain and cozy booths. But not the dozens of people standing outside saying “This is the third time I’ve tried to come and every time I get shut out!”
And so, starting in May we’ll be moving to a new space — Capitol Hill Arts Center. The space doubles our capacity (room for 125 seated, and up to 150 with standing room!), and I’m hoping that we never sell out ever again. For those of you who have been turned away from sold out Salons, come on May 15th and celebrate the new digs!
- 1 Comment
- Tags: jewelbox, rendezvous
The Salon of Cringe
7 Mar 2007 In: Salon of ShameTonight I’m reading at Cringe, Sarah B’s Brooklyn-based diary-reading event that inspired the Salon of Shame. It’s like coming home to a place I’ve never been before and I can’t wait to witness the magic first hand and share a little Seattle-style humiliation. “And now, a little 7th grade poetry comparing frogs and social insecurity — aww yeeeah, that’s how WE do it.”
This makes me happy
15 Nov 2006 In: Salon of Shamemy mom made me pose for this, originally uploaded by Sarah Brown.
I love this photo of Sarah B at the pilot filming of her Cringe TV series. Cringe, for those who’ve been in a hole for the last year, was the inspiration for the Salon of Shame, and it’s so awesome to see Sarah B. take it to the limit. One more time.
And now I wait with baited breath for the inevitable Salon of Shame vs. Cringe SMACKDOWN OF SHAME. It’s going to be awesome.
salon of shame, originally uploaded by yelahneb.
It’s time for another Salon of Shame, and I still have a few openings for readers. Any Electrolicious lurkers who have been nursing an itch to come embarrass yourselves, your time has come!
Doors at 7pm — we usually sell out by 7:10
WHERE: The Jewelbox Theater at the Rendezvous
COVER: $5 — only $1 if you bring something to read
Small, tight dose of Shame
14 Sep 2006 In: Salon of ShameAh, another delicious night of Shame. I intentionally shut my yapper and underpromoted (shh: Salon of Shame. Don’t tell.), and the result was almost perfect … we had less people to turn away than last time. That’s a good thing since every person I turn away I get all sad and personally apologetic to. (We’re sold out. I know. I am so, SO sorry.) People just want their dose of Shame! I know we should probably move to a larger venue, but I just love the Jewelbox too much.
This Salon was decently documented. A few pictures are up in the brand new Salon of Shame Flickr group, and I took at least a snippet of video for each reader. It’ll take me a while to get through all my snippets (they’re all getting posted over here), but here’s one to tide you over. This is Marc Mazique’s brilliant and explicit zine-published sex poem … written before he’d lost his virginity, as the best sex poems always are.
PS: The Salon of Shame also finally has its own domain. It’s salonofshame.com of course.
Distraction
17 Jul 2006 In: Salon of ShameWho needs a little distraction from thoughts of deep facial lacerations and head trauma? You, too? Ok! How about a 3:30 1MB .wav file of my reading from last week’s Salon of Shame? It picks up at Step 2* of my “Tips for giving a nice blowjob” written in 1993. Listen. And thanks to Twozdai for the recording!
Oh, and just so you know? People weren’t laughing at me — they were mostly laughing at Pam Parham, the amazing interpreter who was rocking the sign language. Before I began my reading, I told the audience not to bother watching me, but to keep an eye on Pam. After step 3, you hear me remind them, “Like I said: watch her.” Now if only I’D been able to see her!
*Step 1 was merely “Take your time.”
The Salon of Shame got a small mention in a Newsweek/MSNBC article: Sharing the Shame, On Stage - Newsweek Society. One small issue of contention: the article seems to suggest that both Cringe and the Salon of Shame are somehow affiliated with Mortified. That’s not true. Cringe and the Salon are both independent events. While all three events are obviously related and similar in structure and theme, the three are in no way connected.
Shame, delicious shame
13 Jul 2006 In: Salon of ShameSo how did the Salon of Shame go? I know I keep saying this every time, but last night was definitely the best one ever. Here’s why:
1. It sold out 10 minutes after the doors opened. This was actually both a good thing and a really bad thing. We turned away dozens of people, including several friends of mine. I haven’t had to deal with this level of packed house before, so while I saved seats for the deaf friends who were coming, I didn’t do things like save seats for, oh, THE READERS. This meant that there was a bit of a scramble when some readers showed up after we’d already sold out.
2. The sign language interpreter added a whole, delicious, amazing level of awesomeness to the whole thing. Let’s be clear here: readings aren’t especially visually exciting. When you have someone on the side of the stage who’s emphatically signing things like “COCKRING!” and “WINE COOLERS!” it makes the whole shebang way, way better. I want the terp there every time!
3. My blowjob reading was by far the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever presented in public, and it went over great — I think mainly because Pam, the interpreter, had a lot of fun with signing out things like “When the man in question is about to cum, put the whole penis in your mouth. DO NOT GAG!!” Listen to most of my reading by clicking here.
4. My friends who were sitting around my father during my reading reported that he muttered supportive comments like, “Yes, that’s an effective technique” while I read. BEST! DAD! EVER!
5. There were so many awesome readings last night, but I think my favorite was from Bill, who read three letters he’d written (and sent!) to himself from his imaginary girlfriend. Their “relationship” was full of turmoil and jealousy and begging forgiveness. As one person shouted from the back of the room, “YOU WIN!”
The only problem with the Salon of Shame right now is that it’s becoming a victim of its own success. The theater only holds about 70 people and last night we probably had about 100 show up. I’m resistant to moving to a bigger space because the Jewelbox Theater is so perfect with its red curtains and food/booze service and because the intimacy is really an important part of the event.
I guess the moral of the story is that if you want to come to the Salon, you better show up early. I felt extra bad for the folks who showed up around 7 and then went and got a drink at the bar without buying tickets. When they wandered up to the door with their beers at 7:30, we had to turn them away. Sad! I hope they come back in September.
Updates:
• Jill blogged her reading, which included the quote “I wish I had a different family. Or at least a taller father.”
• There are some pictures here.
Where-in I take things to a whole new level of shame
12 Jul 2006 In: Salon of ShameLast night I was shuffling through my boxes of journals trying to find a good reading for tonight’s Salon of Shame. I found some doozies, including my Last Will & Testament from 1990, which ended “Don’t cry for me too much — I don’t want you all to suffer. But don’t forget about me either! I always did like to be the center of attention.” It was funny enough. But then, then I re-found a reading that I’d been avoiding for months. Because this, this piece of writing? It’s kind of too much, even for me.
Oh sure: I’m ok reading my rhyming 8th grade insecurity poems and my stories of barfing on dates. It’s fine to read about the boys I was mooning over. But reading a post I wrote on a BBS in 1993 that’s entitled, “How to give a nice blow job”? That’s a little bit much, even for me. Not only is it terribly written, but sex advice from a 17-year-old known for wearing Blossom hats is dubious at best. Plus, the fact that I posted this publicly? Jesus! What was I thinking? (Then again, there are those who would say it was a perfect precursor to Electrolicious, but I’ve learned my lesson: I don’t talk about sex here.)
As I sat there in my basement, reading the posting and cringing at the thought of reading it publicly, I remembered that earlier in the day I’d convinced my father to come to the Salon.
“It’ll be great, dad!” I’d said. “They’re always so much fun! You have to come!”
Shit. I totaly set myself up for this one. I momentarily considered reading the Will & Testament instead of this horrific blow job guide, but then I realized NO! This is what the Salon of Shame is all about! If you don’t cringe when you read it, if you’re not mortified when you think of sharing it with others, then it’s not shameful enough. The public airing of embarrassing writing sets you free! If Dawn could read about losing her virginity to a born-again Christian, then for God’s sake I can read my adolescent guide to fellatio in front of my father! I CAN DO THIS!
PS: If you’re thinking of coming, you better get there when doors open at 7pm. I was already expecting the show to sell out, and that was before we got slogged again.
Woohoo — The Salon was written up in The Stranger! Read the article here.
Hey there. I'm Ariel Meadow Stallings, a native Seattleite who's written my way up and down the Left Coast. Electrolicious is where I post daily randomata, but I also write for a living. My first book, Offbeat Bride, was published last year.
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