Chantel Williams

Since Dr. B was laid off again we’ve had to cut back. Cut back on vacations is actually more like it. Which means that all trips now include camping. Its true I hate to camp. I have no desire to get in touch with nature that way. Here’s a short explanation. When Dr. B asked, “would you just love to sell everything and live in a car?” I reminded him that I used to live in a car, I used to camp out every single night of my life. I’ve roughed it, I survived and I have no need to do it to myself again. However, when your cute daughter and persuasive boyfriend smile and promise to take care of you……

Here’s a short pictorial of our recent camping trip through some very beautiful and very dangerous country.

Yosemite Valley Meadow, 2010

Yosemite is one of the most beautiful, contradictory places I’ve ever seen. Abundant beauty is nestled in one of the harshest mountain ranges in the United States. I realized this even more when my daughter woke up the next morning to let me know that a bear came to visit her in the middle of the night. I put together two and two and remembered, that was probably the moment Luna wedged herself under the covers and “wufed” silently. What I realized even more the next morning is that Puddin’ left a piece of garbage in the fire pit. This helpful, kind bear returned it to its original owner and left a note. “Don’t litter, this is my house.”

Luna, 2010

What we’ve also learned is that Luna likes to stay in the car. The wilderness is not for her. She also likes to give directions and drink only bottled water. She also doesn’t like the desert. It is here that we confirmed her desire to be fanned at all times and draped with a cool wet towel when the temperature reaches above 80 degrees.

Andrea likes it!

This is what Andrea looks like when she’s camping. Except when a bear comes by her tent or, in the middle of Death Valley on a dark night and she’s found her tent door was left open for an unidentifiable amount of time. Then she’s frustrated and turns her tent upside down looking for snakes. Then she sits on her air pad and it hisses and asks to sleep with her mother in her tent.

Half Dome over Yosemite Valley, 2010

Then its just beautiful, there are no words and no photos to describe what this looks like. As an amateur I may never develop the skill to explain how I felt when I looked at this view. I can only describe it like this; when you see something this beautiful you know the world is good and is worth your effort. Taking photographs for me is like trying to tell you how I felt when I see something.

Then you break the law.

Its very difficult to travel with your pet. Its actual illegal to let them swim in a protected environment. I didn’t know this when Luna leaned out the window of the rental car and whined at the water. We gave in, pulled over to the most beautiful mountain lake ever seen and she dove in immediately. I’ve never seen such satisfaction on her face. Before anyone yells at me, I didn’t know it was against the law until seeing a sign later that day. I would have happily taken the ticket because she was so damn happy.

Our family portrait and, she blinks.

Death Valley, 2010 – Devil’s Golfcourse

Death Valley is the most desolate, dangerous, gorgeous, enticing place I’ve ever been. Its hot, its 120 degrees hot. So hot, that this year camping on the valley floor is over for the season. After finding a place to camp 2 thousand feet above the valley floor, we settled in the complete darkness with a night sky show that would make you jealous. There was a moment that can only be described as spiritual as the three of us sat in complete darkness and silence while watching the moon rise above the mountain cliffs. We watched as all the constellations slowly disappeared and the moon shed light on the valley below.

Artists Palette, Death Valley

Death Valley is very rich in mineral resources. However due to its heat and lack of water it is nearly impossible to mine. Many have tried and many have failed. I’m grateful for this desolate protection because what would have happened to this beautiful landscape if technology got hold of it?

That being said I still don’t like camping. I still don’t like it when my boyfriend asks “wanna take a shortcut?” I abhor the shortcut when it turns out to be a 39 mile dirt and rock road on a remote portion of Death Valley. I abhor all things like flat tires and survival scenarios when my dog is a pansy and I hate getting my hands dirty.

But we did survive, the flat tire, the remote road, the dirt, the heat, the bugs, the bears and now we’re home.

I recently went to Los Angeles to perform at the Moth again. Fun little trip that included; seeing a few good friends, food poisoning, an unexpected snow storm in the Tejan Pass and, a chat with the California Highway Patrol.

Yes Genius, traffic sucks

This officer was really nice considering I was actually speeding about 95 – 100 MPH. I did consider showing him my boobs but then I realized he’s probably seen way nicer and decided to suck it up. In my defense I WAS truly trying to get home to see Dr. B before he left on a two week trip to New York.

I don’t mind driving when I have long stretches of puffy clouds to keep me company. Sorry about the dirt on the window I did just drive through a snow and hail storm not an hour ago.

This week Wharf Room Comedy was canceled due to a private function at the restaurant. I decided that it was a perfect opportunity for me to drive to Los Angeles and take in a Moth StorySLAm. I’ve been listening and following The Moth for some time; before I had an iPod or before there were podcasts. http://www.themoth.org/about

As a southern woman with a lot of experiences; storytelling has been my natural outlet. Whether it be here, in a book or, on stage at the comedy club. I’ve been telling stories at cocktail parties whenever I get the chance. Of course these stories are edited in an effort to save the guilty and/or the innocent and to protect my own privacy as a child survivor of poverty, abuse, addiction and homelessness. Inserting protective pronouns and jokes and changing names can be difficult. However, over time as I grew and as I matured I found that outing myself was much more liberating than just carrying around nameless stories. So my blog was born.

I found a hotel in Venice that seemed affordable but Dr. B insisted on cheaper. So, I found a hotel in Santa Monica that was $67 a night. We arrived after a long rainy drive from San Francisco. We found the hotel situated in a quiet residential neighborhood. I knocked on the glass window of the Motel office as instructed by the sign; the sign that also read, No PROSTITUTION and things like that. The guy that answered was sleeping and quite possibly masturbating. Otherwise why would a night desk clerk nap with no pants?

We checked into room 4 of 12 and entered into our teeny tiny room with a double bed, one overhead light and a door that barely locked. How discomfiting is a sliding glass door in a room the size of a prison cell? Very much discomfiting.

We slept through the night uncomfortably. I awoke on Monday in a pissy mood and not quite accepting the fact that I willingly wanted to come to LA. I also was having a hard time with the fact that I might have to perform on a stage where I’ve never performed and, in front of people who do not know me. This is the case most nights that I do stand-up but, for some reason this felt different. I was going to tell a very personal story about how I came to be named Chantel.

Dr. B and I arrived for the event at 6:30 and we were not the first people in line. The doors opened and the Supperclub filled up efficiently. I put my name in the hat still unsure if I actually wanted them to draw my name and I returned to my seat and to my rum punch. My name was called on the third or fourth draw.

So I told my story.

I’ll give you the short version. After a long line of traditional names where all middle names were Lee, or Thomas, or Michael or Kaye; my mother named me Chantel. Then I inserted a couple of musing’s about how its possible I wasn’t even related to everyone in my family because my mother might have been sleeping around while Dad was off in Vietnam. Then I told how my family was upset because it wasn’t a traditional christian white girl name. Except, I said the bad N word. I did it on purpose because its important to the story. Its important in ways that cannot be explained unless you’ve lived in a poor white racist family and been teased about having a N  name. The crowd was still with me. I told about some of the hardships I’ve overcome and finally why my mother might have chosen this particular name. She simply chose it because she wanted something different. That’s it, no big story, no extensive explanation. In her heartbreak of losing her husband, leaving her home and being forced to live with her Mother and Father back in Ohio until I was born. Its simple, she just wanted something different. I ended the story in a small tribute to the lady who took over Mom duties for me when I was in my early thirties after my mom died.

The crowd roared with cheers.

Then my scores came down and one judge gave me such a low score it could have only been for one reason. I used the dreaded N word. A word that should never ever be uttered by a white woman who drove here from San Francisco. Too bad, but I still stand by my word choice and the crowd did too because they boo’d the judges. Of course I could have wasted precious storytelling time being PC and beating around the bush of such racial insensitivity. However, I chose, I threw it out there; I took the dagger. Telling the truth is not racists – avoiding those truths often have explosive consequences.

That night Dr. B took me to dinner on Sunset Strip and we ate steaks while watching a mechanical bull riding competition. We are so damn romantic. I had a great time. I made a lifelong goal happen. Dr. B has ordered back to Los Angeles as much as possible to attend Moth SLAms but; there is always a down side.

I have allergies. Allergies that are often stress related but have manifested in food. I return to San Francisco with a burning swollen face, itchy eyes and breathing difficulties. How can I relate to you how bad this allergy is right now? I take 6 Claritin a day or 4 Claritin and 1 Benadryl depending on how bad my face is swollen.

So here I am, on stage, swollen itchy face – saying the N word.

I’m addressing my food allergies starting this week. I’ll be eating plain chicken and plain rice for 7 days. As well as simply avoiding stress inducing situations until my face no longer looks like a nuclear waste dump.