♪ GIANMARCO SORESI: He's like, "Dude, you are more likely to die on this car ride right now than you are skydiving."

I'm like, "Great, more things to be scared about."

(laughter) ALISON TOCCI: And the conversation escalates.

And then he screams at us over the speakerphone.

He says, "Well, do you know the deceased?"

BRENDYN SCHNEIDER: I was 15 years old.

Some guys I knew already had grandkids by the time they were 15 and I hadn't kissed a girl yet.

It was embarrassing.

(laughter) THERESA OKOKON: Tonight's theme is "You Only Live Once."

ANNOUNCER: This program is made possible in part by contributions from viewers like you-- thank you.

You only live once.

So, what does that mean for you?

For some of us, it means embracing the familiar.

And for some folks, it's the exact opposite.

It's taking risks.

It's finding new endeavors.

It is going on an adventure.

Tonight, storytellers are going to bring you their true stories of the moments when they realize what it's like to be living a life that is worth experiencing.

♪ SORESI: My name's Gianmarco Soresi.

I'm from New York City.

I'm a standup comedian, sometimes actor and storyteller.

So what does storytelling do for you that standup and acting does not?

Standup, there is this kind of defined goal-- there needs to be a laugh.

- Mm-hmm.

SORESI: And storytelling, it's the communication of the narrative.

And I think it's just nice to have different guidelines so you can express yourself creatively in different ways.

So acting, I can express my emotions, But it's through someone else's lines.

Mm-hmm.

That's fully defined.

Standup, I can express all sorts of things-- things outside of myself, and even my beliefs sometimes.

And storytelling is about how I can share purely a narrative that can be funny, but it just allows me a different way to express myself, and in this case, a completely honest way to express my history, and my existence.

So considering the story that you're here to tell tonight, why is this story an important one for you to tell?

It's about a loss that was so severe, but now I'm able to look at as kind of a a gift that I had... Mm-hmm.

...as I became an adult.

And I get to kind of relive the glory and the sadness of it in a way where it doesn't devastate me.

But I get to appreciate it and share it.

My parents got divorced when I was seven days old.

(laughter) So like most kids, my first word was "Mama."

But my next five were, "Told me to tell you."

(laughter) And my dad went on to get married five times.

Now, I don't know if you've ever been to someone's fifth wedding, but no one can take it seriously.

(laughter) Everyone's in Crocs.

(laughter) It's BYOB.

(laughter) And by the fourth stepmom, I was so bitter.

I was just like, "I'd learn your name, sweetheart, but you'll be gone by Christmas."

(laughter) And that was a lollipop, because I was nine.

(laughter) So all of that left me with very mixed feelings about marriage until I met a woman in college named Laura.

And Laura, she looked like a young Audrey Hepburn, but, like, with the neuroses of an Annie Hall.

She she had these big... not... not... not like sexy librarian glasses.

More like helpful librarian glasses.

And they magnified these very small blue eyes that would just disappear when she smiled.

And she smiled every time I walked in a room.

I loved her, and I never wanted her to look at me the way that my mom looks at my dad.

So after we graduated, I broke up with her.

She moved to L.A. And rather than process any of my feelings, I went backpacking around Europe for three months.

And I went all over Europe.

I started in Sicily, then I went to Rome, Berlin, Amsterdam, Paris, back to Amsterdam.

(laughter) Dublin, Lisbon-- this is not an accurate map.

But the final stop was Interlaken, Switzerland.

All I could think about was Laura.

Like, "Did I make a mistake?"

"Should I call her, beg forgiveness, ask her to marry me?"

And that's when I saw a brochure for skydiving.

And I thought, "Oh, I'll just do this instead."

(laughter) Because Switzerland is actually the number one place to skydive, according to the brochure.

So I signed up to go tandem jumping the next day.

Tandem jumping, that's where you're strapped to someone who's brave on your behalf.

And I was very nervous.

So instead of going to bed that night, I decided to Skype with Laura.

Now, we we were broken up, but she was still generous enough to talk to me, you know, if I was having, like, an existential crisis.

So, you know, we talked a lot.

And with the time difference it's probably like 6:00 in the morning when she answers her Skype.

And I'm on the screen freaking out, like, "Tell me I don't have to go skydiving."

And this is the first she's heard of any of this.

So she's like, "Honey, deep breaths.

You don't have to go skydiving."

And I was like, "No, I need you to push me, please."

And she was like, "Oh, I misread that."

(laughter) "You totally should go skydiving."

And I was like, "Why, because you want me to die?"

And we just...

I'm a lot.

And... (laughter) We just went back and forth and back and forth until finally I burst into tears.

And I was like, "All right, I don't know "if I'm going to do it, but if I do, "and if the parachute doesn't go off, "I just want you to know that you will be the last thing that I'm thinking about."

Which probably isn't true.

I mean, the last thing I'll think is just like... (yells) (laughter) But I had to wrap up the call, because the van was there to take me to the airfield because we'd been Skyping for seven hours.

Yeah, and so I said goodbye.

I kissed the camera-- it was gross-- and I get...

I get into the van.

It's one of these big vans, no seat belts in the van, and the driver can see that I've been crying.

So he's like, "Dude, dude, you are more likely to die on this car ride right now than you are skydiving."

I'm like, "Great, more things to be scared about."

(laughter) They dressed me up in this full body neon orange jumpsuit, which I think is, like, so, you know, if the parachute doesn't go off, they can find my body in the woods.

And I have to crawl onto the plane.

It's a tiny plane-- it could fit on this stage.

I think it was made by Hot Wheels, and... (laughter) We start... we start going up into the sky.

And they strap me up behind me to my tandem jumper.

And it's very, very cool Australian guy named Evan.

And I... to try to, like, get my mind off this, I just try to get to know him.

I was like, "Hey, Evan you... you married?"

And he was like, "Nah."

And I was like, "Oh, do you have a girlfriend or boyfriend?"

And he was like, "Nah."

And I was like, "Oh, do you have any pets?"

And he was like... (sniffs) "Nah."

(laughter) "I disappeared, I don't think anyone would notice."

(laughter) "Time to jump."

Boom!

I'm scooting to the edge, straddled by a suicidal skydiver, I think.

And right as my feet are hanging over the plane, that's when I decide, "You know what?

"I'm not going to go skydiving.

"I don't care if there's no refunds.

I'm going to cancel this."

But then I think something snapped.

I think something went off in my head, because for the first time in my life I heard a voice in my head that was not my own.

And it said, "You can't die, Gianmarco.

You're the main character."

(laughter) Three, two, one.

We jumped.

And, guys, you have got to go skydiving.

It was amazing.

You have to go!

I was... like it was raining, but we were above the clouds, so I was, like, raining onto the rain.

And then... and then... you know, Evan pulled the parachute, thank God, I'm Jewish, but just in case.

And... (laughter) And then... then you just... you just float.

You just float for, like, like, five, ten minutes.

And it was this beautiful view of the Swiss Alps, just like... just like snow and lakes.

It was just...

It was the first time in so long that I was... That I didn't have any distractions.

It was just, like, me alone with my thoughts.

And Evan.

And... (laughter) It... it took falling miles above the Swiss Alps for me to go, "What am I doing?

"Obviously I love Laura.

"And if I... "if I'm willing to jump out of a plane "for no reason, I can certainly marry her for every reason in the world."

So the moment we land, I threw up everywhere.

I mean, it had been... it had been a long day.

You've heard.

a very hard day for me personally.

(laughter) But the moment I clean up, I go to get my phone, I call Laura, she doesn't pick up.

I call her again, she doesn't pick up.

And I didn't find out until, like, months later, but the reason she wasn't picking up is because she was at a friend's birthday party where she was meeting, for the first time, her now husband.

(audience groans) Because life does not wait until you're ready to jump.

Thank you.

(cheers and applause) ♪ SCHNEIDER: My name is Brendyn Schneider.

I grew up in a town called Copiague, New York.

I've been a storyteller for the last ten years, and by day I am a job search workshop instructor.

So I've heard you describe yourself as a story spinner.

- Mm-hmm.

- What does that mean for you?

In the '50s and '60s, there was a guy on The Ed Sullivan Show called the plate spinner.

And he would be spinning all these plates and keeping them all in the air, keeping them all aloft.

When you're a storyteller, you're doing that with the audience.

You're paying attention to what you just said, you're paying attention to what you're saying right now, and you're trying to pay attention to, "Okay, how is the next thing I'm going to say... how is it going to be received?"

So what kind of stories do you like to tell the most?

We all have two things in common in life.

We all have a childhood.

No one started as an adult.

- Right.

And we all have a story to tell, right?

So if you're telling stories about childhood, when you look out into the audience, you can see the, the acknowledgement on people's faces.

And then, like, they either experienced that, too, or they know someone who did.

There are some things in life that you want so badly.

You wait, and you wait, and you wait, and you start to wonder if it's ever going to happen.

And then it does happen, and it's sheer terror-- skydiving, mountain climbing.

My first kiss was like that.

I was 15 years old.

Some guys I knew already had grandkids by the time they were 15, and I hadn't kissed a girl yet.

It was embarrassing.

And if anybody would have asked, I had this beautiful lie just on deck about this unbelievable girl that I met at camp one summer.

I was in my cabin, she was in hers, and we'd wait until lights out.

Wait until midnight, right?

And we'd sneak away into a secluded spot in the woods and we'd kiss.

(laughter) A lot.

(laughter) But you wouldn't know... you wouldn't know her.

You wouldn't know her.

No, she was... she lives really far away.

(laughter) Albania.

(laughter) And the truth was, I'd never even been to camp.

Well, one night, Christine calls.

Christine was magic.

She was an absolute miracle for me.

You see, when I was a young guy, I couldn't talk to girls.

I would blush, and I'd start to stutter.

But with Christine, it was different.

We met each other on the school bus, and we liked the same movies and we liked the same music groups.

Christine talked to me.

And not in, like, an obligatory, you know, you're-in-the-same- reading-group-type way, "I have to talk to this person."

She wanted to talk to me.

We wanted to talk to each other.

We were interested in each other.

It was mutual.

And this was a new experience for me, and I liked it.

(laughter) But the night she called and told me that her parents were out, and I should come over, because, we'll, you know, hang out, I knew exactly what she was talking about, and I was terrified all over again.

So I called my friend Jay.

He'd already kissed three girls.

And I said to him, I said, "Jay, what do I do?"

And he said, "What do you mean, what do you do?"

And I said, "Well, what do I do with my hands?

"And what if my foot falls asleep?

"And my tongue, do I just shove it in there?

"And what if I start gagging on her tongue?"

And Jay said, "Brendyn, what the hell are you talking about?"

She lived up the street from me, about a block past the bus stop.

And I remember it was a warm night for February.

(laughter) The sound of my sneakers on the sidewalk, cars throwing headlights across people's lawns.

And there was a little pile of snow around her mailbox, and a lamp on in the living room window, and these little white lights that dotted the walk up to her porch.

I swore I could smell perfume.

This was a girl's house.

I was standing outside of a girl's house.

So I should keep walking.

(laughter) I should-- I could say that something came up.

"Yeah, my dad wanted me to move a few dozen two-by-fours, but we'll do it, we'll hang out, we will, we will."

But I didn't keep walking.

Instead, I walked up her porch, and she's at the front door, smiling, and her hair looks really good.

We're sitting on her couch.

We're not saying a word to each other.

And I am transfixed by the axe above her front door.

(laughter) It's a real axe-- metal, sharp, little ribbon hanging from the handle.

Christine's father was part of some kind of Scottish organization.

The man's arms were bigger than my room.

(laughter) I envisioned kissing this man's daughter as he came home, eyes bulging, skin bright red, a massive paw reaching up, grabbing the axe, throwing it, and the axe pinning me to a fence four blocks away.

(laughter) Well, I cleared my throat.

Her phone rang.

It's her friend Liz.

Going back and forth for a little while, and then Christine gets quiet.

And after the quiet, she says, "Well, no, not yet."

Right?

And the hair on the back of my neck, it's standing up on end, because I know what they're talking about.

Well, she hangs up the phone and sits back across my lap.

And I thought I was terrified before.

(laughter) And I'm going to go.

I'm going to go.

No, I'm going to go.

I mean, I'm not cut out for this.

I mean, I thought I was, but I'm not.

It's like I'm too overdue at this point.

(laughter) But don't feel bad.

Honestly, I'll be a priest.

(laughter) But then something happens.

I look down at that risk.

I smile.

She smiles.

I leaned down and go off 80 high dives.

And then she kisses me back, and the high dives turn into jet packs.

We didn't do anything else that night.

We just sat there kissing for hours... my eyes wide open the whole time.

(laughter) No, because, see, I didn't know you had to close them.

Nobody told me.

I must have looked homicidal.

(laughter) Never again would I have to tell any lies about any camp that I didn't go to or any girls from Albania that I'd never met.

I mean, none of it was overdue.

None of it.

I was 15 years old.

And the whole night was right on time.

Thank you very much.

(cheers and applause) ♪ TOCCI: My name is Alison Tocci.

I'm from Shirley, Massachusetts.

And after a long career in publishing in New York City, I moved back to Massachusetts to take over my family's long-running tavern and restaurant.

So I imagine it was a big leap to go from being in media to running this restaurant.

What do you find that the two jobs have in common?

Well, I think that being in publishing was all about telling stories.

And certainly the restaurant is rich with a history of stories.

It was the first stop on the Boston to Albany stagecoach route back in the day in the 1800s, and I think of it as the gathering place where everybody came to find out what was happening.

And even today I deliberately don't have... you know, most places you go, you see televisions plastered in every direction than anybody could possibly look.

I don't have that.

I want people to come in and talk, and maybe have a piano player in the background.

But it's definitely a place where people exchange stories and just be human beings.

So this is your first time telling a story onstage.

Formally telling a story onstage.

If you come to the bar, we can sit and talk and tell a lot of stories, absolutely.

How are you feeling about getting onstage tonight?

I'm nervous-- it's different.

But I'm just going to think about the way we talk at the tavern.

It was Memorial Day, 1990.

It was my 33rd birthday, and I was getting ready for my father's funeral.

What I was getting ready was the front of house of our family restaurant and tavern, where his wake was to be held.

The funeral director showed up, and we were explaining to him that my father, Lee, had three requests written right into his will.

One, he wanted to be laid out on our taproom bar.

(laughter) Two, he wanted a Dixieland jazz band to be playing.

And three he wanted us to-- and I'm quoting him-- "Charge double for the drinks that day, "because I know most of those bastards are going to show up early to make sure I'm dead."

(laughter) Now, if you're wondering what kind of a guy has three things like that written into his will, you'd have to know a little bit about Lee.

His brothers and sisters and his parents were born in Sicily.

They emigrated here just before the Great Depression.

About 20 years later, Lee was born.

They were extraordinarily poor.

His mother spoke no English.

His father was an abusive alcoholic.

And Lee recalled being sent out as a young child to walk the train tracks and pick up little pieces of coal from the trains that fell off so that they could have heat.

He was a street fighter, and then later he became a boxer for money.

His life changed for the better when he was able to buy the restaurant, and when he met my mother, but he never lost that humor or that fighting spirit.

And he had all these fighter's expressions that he used to communicate.

He would say things like, "I don't get ulcers, I give them!"

(laughter) Or, "We can settle this argument "underneath the Fifth Street Bridge.

I'll meet you there."

But he had one expression that really irritated me when I was growing up.

When he really didn't understand something, he'd take a drag of his Kent cigarette, blow the smoke up in the air, and he'd say, "Well, too bad she died.

She made such lovely donuts."

(laughter) I used to say, "Dad, what's... "That doesn't mean anything.

What does that mean?

It means nothing."

He'd just shake his head and smile, smoke his cigarette.

(laughter) So the funeral guys came in, and we're explaining to them, and so they wheel Lee into the taproom, and they try hoisting the coffin up onto the taproom bar.

But it doesn't fit.

And so we take it down.

And we're standing there, and we're talking about what we're going to do, and we're sort of measuring and talking, and... And then it occurred to me-- I don't know if it occurred to any of you-- I thought, "Well, maybe if we take him out of the coffin."

(laughter) But no, that wasn't going to...

The funeral director said no.

So we said, "Okay, we've got to... we've got to modify "Lee's last request a little bit.

What we'll do..." we rolled him up the ramp to the big banquet room in the back where we've got a beautiful picture window and a nice big dance floor and a stage.

And so we thought we could... we could put him on the bar in the big room, but that's where we're going to sell the drinks.

Lee would hate that.

So let's put him up on the stage.

So as we're arranging him in front of the picture window on the stage, there's a lot of activity buzzing in the restaurant, because there's waitresses polishing silverware, and there's bartenders dumping ice into the bin, and you can hear people shouting in the kitchen and chopping things up.

And to me, this is deeply normal, this crossroads where you're conducting very personal business in this very public venue.

So we get Lee situated.

I run back downstairs to the front desk.

And at this point, there's a lot of people showing up, Even though it's Memorial Day weekend, a lot of people are coming.

So I'm answering the phones, and the phone rings, and it's a guy who identifies himself as an inspector from Boston.

And he says, "I understand you're having a wake there today."

And I said yes.

And he's asking me a lot of questions.

He says, "Well, I need to speak to the owner about that."

And that was a tricky moment for me, because it was the first time I had to answer that question.

And the owner, as I knew him, was up back on the stage.

So I said, "Hold on just a second."

So I ran into the kitchen, and I talked to my brother.

I said, "Chip, we've got to talk to this guy from Boston.

He's asking a lot of questions."

So we put the speakerphone on in the kitchen, and we're both leaning over the phone, and the guy's peppering us with all these questions.

And he's saying, "You've got to shut it down.

You got to shut it down right now and evacuate the building," Because apparently it is against the law in the state of Massachusetts to have a corpse in the same room where you're serving food to the public.

(laughter) So, so we're pushing back a little bit, because there's already now a couple hundred people in the building.

And we're thinking, "How are we going to... We can't... what can we do?"

And the conversation escalates.

And then he screams at us over the speakerphone.

He says, "Well, do you know the deceased?"

And the whole kitchen stopped.

Everybody kind of looked at us.

And here we are, everything private out in public.

And way said, "Well, yeah, we know him-- it's Lee.

And it's our dad."

And he says, "Oh, well, I'm very sorry for your loss, but you've got to shut it down right now."

And he says, "If you're telling me you're not going to "shut it down, I'm telling you I'm coming out there "with a padlock and a sticker and I'm going to put it on your door, and you're done, and you could lose your license."

And he hung up.

(exhales) So in the hour between the time he hung up and the time he got out there, 1,100 people came through.

Now, the good thing about 1,100 people coming through is about a hundred of them are attorneys.

(laughter) So we decide we'd better talk to Uncle Joe.

He's an attorney.

So I run out back, and Uncle Joe's holding court at the bar, and I say, "Joe," and I tell him what happened, and Joe says, "What's the guy's name?"

I told him the guy's name.

He says, "He's a scotch drinker."

He says, "When he gets here, put him in the taproom, get him a scotch, and then come and find me."

I go, "Okay."

So I go back to the front desk, and I'm waiting now, and the phone's ringing off the hook, and all these people are coming in.

And I'm thinking I've mastered that restaurant business thing that Lee had where I can be inwardly grieving and panicked, even, and outwardly very politely directing people to the men's and ladies rooms, saying, "Watch your step."

(laughter) So then I see this guy walking down the front porch, suit and tie, flattop haircut, briefcase.

I said, "That's my guy."

So I bring him into the taproom, I sit him down, I get him a drink.

I run up and get Joe, Joe and the funeral director come down.

And the three of them are huddled in the corner, and they're talking.

And I'm standing at the end of the bar, and I'm thinking, "We didn't manage to get Lee on the taproom bar, and now, on day one without him, we might lose everything.

But that didn't happen.

Joe broke away from the huddle, he looked at me.

He gave me the thumbs up, and a nod, and he said, "Go ahead, go back up and be with your mother."

So I ran back upstairs, and I took my place in line next to my brothers and sisters and my mother and Lee, and I was standing there shaking my head, and all I could think was, "Too bad she died.

She made such lovely donuts."

(laughter) Cheers.

(cheers and applause) ANNOUNCER: This program is made possible in part by contributions from viewers like you-- thank you.

♪