The Josh Fruhlinger Experience

If you live in Baltimore City, there are a couple different attitudes you can take on a day-to-day basis about the city’s crime problem: you can freak out about it, or you can adopt a certain air of ironic bravado. (I suppose you could also join the fray, but this would not exactly be the style of me or most folks I know.) I tend to choose number two, despite not living in a particularly blighted section of town. Still, it was something of a perverse relief to learn that the initial reports that Baltimore was America’s per-capita murder capital of 2008 were faulty, and that Detroit was trying to weasel out of its rightful crown. We’re number two! Woo-hoo!

One of my favorite vague-air-of-menace Baltimore spots is right around the corner from me: the alleyway behind the Waverly Library that leads into the the back entrance to the always wonderful Thai Restaurant. (Yes, my favorite Thai restaurant is named “Thai Restaurant,” although it comes up on my credit card bills as the more impressive-sounding “Royal Thai.”) As you walk across the crumbling asphalt, you get the vague feeling that this is where you might be led to be killed execution style, though it quickly becomes clear that you’re just in a narrow parking lot leading to the restaurant’s back door.

On the rear of one of the buildings that abut this alleyway is one of my favorite bits of Baltimore graffiti. This is what it looked like last fall (click to enlarge):

Where is the love, indeed? A somewhat more emo-philosophical sentiment than one usually expects from spray-painted verbiage on the side of a building. A couple weeks ago, though, I noticed that it had been embellished (again, click for bigness):

You’ll notice that the graffiti has in fact received a little love, with the word “love” being embellished and a cute dandelion being added. This is what I like about Baltimore: even the blight is kind of quirky, and people are willing to find — and embellish — the beauty in the rough.

Hey, Baltimore-area folks! Do you like stories? Do you like seeing people such as myself tell stories about themselves, and about winning and/or losing, in seven minutes or less? Then you should come to Stoop Storytelling this coming Monday!

This is a picture of me at an entirely different event, but at least it gives you a chance to see what I look like holding a microphone.

There’s been a trend of having live events in which people get on stage and tell true stories about their lives. One of the most famous versions is New York City’s The Moth, though Baltimore’s iteration has fewer Malcolm Gladwells and Ethan Hawkes and more, uh, Josh Fruhlingers. I’ve been to plenty of Stoops, and while there are occasional local celebrities (at the last one I saw, the mayor of Baltimore told a story about how her little brother shat on her one Christmas, no lie), mostly they are just regular folks who have moving/hilarious anecdotes to tell. Plus, there are musical interludes from Caleb Stine and the Brakemen, who are the coolest!

One of the great things about this event is that audience members get to participate: if you want to tell a story, you can put your name in a hat before the show starts, and three names are drawn after intermission for quick three-minute stories. A few years ago I actually was one of these audience storytellers, when the topic was “living together”; here’s my contribution, recorded for posterity.

This time I’ll be talking for twice as long, about my failure on Jeopardy! The other six storytellers are also really great and hilarious too. Now, here’s the awkward part; tickets are actually sold out, at least in theory. I’ve been told that they do hold some tickets back for day-of sales, though, so if you’re Baltimore’s Mount Vernon neighborhood, I encourage you to stop by and try to get some. The show is at Center Stage at 700 N. Calvert St. in Baltimore. And if you miss it, I promise to post my audio here. Doors open at 7 pm for cocktails and live music — if you don’t have tickets, showing up early is your only hope!

Do you live in Baltimore, or somewhere Baltimore-ish? What are you doing this Saturday afternoon? What’s that? Something boring and non-hula-hoop related? Well, we’ll fix that!

Fluid Movement, Baltimore’s #1 performance art group of random delight, is putting on its fourth annual Hoola-Hoop-A-Thon this Saturday, May 23, at St. John’s Church in Charles Village (2640 St. Paul St.). Fun starts at 1 p.m., but be there by 12:30 if you want to compete.

Oh, yes: it’s a competition! You will be judged in endurance (there’s a time cut-off; it’s not some endless Depression-style torture session for the amusement of the swells), travel (i.e. how far and fast you can walk/run while hooping), freestyle verve, and “challenge rounds” (I have no idea what this means, but it sounds scary/awesome). And one of the referees will be my lovely wife (pictured above)!

It should be pretty obvious at this point that this is going to be awesome and you should come. And bring your kids! (I was telling our new next-door neighbors about this and I mentioned that there were lots of kids there and then I felt weird for mentioning this. Would it be more appropriate to say “Feel free to bring gown-ups?”) You can bring your own hoop, rent or buy hoops there, or just watch the hypnotic, rhythmic twirling. $5 admission fee, or $10 to compete. There will be food, as well!

Sure, fewer people went to the Preakness this year, what with the decline in interest in horse racing and Pimlico’s banning of outside beverages, but at least smaller crowds mean less work for the cleanup crews!

Also, note that one of the clean-up guys is wearing a shirt advertising a bail bondsman. Baltimore is classy!