Welcome to Tig's Musical Story Hour.
My grandmother, Mildred, up in Jackson
owned a gift shop that my brother and I
spent all of our time in as kids when we would visit her.
She could never say no to any of my requests
for yet another stuffed animal off her shelf,
and my collection eventually grew to somewhere between
20 to 30 furry whales, tigers, puppies,
you name it.
Once I was back home,
I'd line the hallways of our house
with all of my acquired little creatures,
and pretend that they were each patiently awaiting
their reservation at the world class restaurant
that I owned and operated.
To be fair, the restaurant, we served mainly, um,
nothing.
I'd poke my head out of my bedroom door,
and call in parties of two elephants,
a multi-species birthday party of six.
Sometimes even a solo party of one fuzzy armadillo
would show up for a bite to eat.
Whatever the assortment,
some, if not most, found themselves
waiting up to four hours just to be seated.
It was, honestly, that good.
No feet, no hands, no problem.
I did not discriminate.
Sadly,
my establishment mysteriously went out of business
once I turned 11.
My stepfather considered my old pals a fire hazard,
but my mother saved them in an old trunk.
If my story/DJ career
does not pan out,
I can always just pull the old stuffed animals out,
and get the restaurant started again.
[sighs] That is my story for this week.
-Ripped by Rapunzel-
â« Jambalaya and a crawfish pie â«
♪ And a fillet gumbo ♪
♪ 'Cause tonight I'm gonna see ♪
♪ Ma cher amio ♪
♪ Pick guitar, fill a fruit jar ♪
♪ And be gay-o ♪
♪ Son of a gun we'll have big fun ♪
♪ On the bayou ♪
♪ Son of a gun we'll have big fun ♪
♪ On the bayou ♪
Man: [on P.A.] Welcome to Los Angeles International Airport.
All baggage claim carousels are located on the lower...
Man: [on P.A.] Last call, flight 4017 to New Orleans.
Last call, flight 4017 to New Orleans.
Tig, what the hell?
Oh, my God, you look like shit.
Thank you, Remy.
- Oh, my God. - I told you on the phone, I'm just... I'm not...
You told me you were sick. You told me you're not feeling well.
I know, but I... I... Well, yeah.
Is this the... the chemo?
No, this is the intestinal disease,
the thing C. diff.
Like the runs?
I mean, if you want to dress it up.
Announcer: Welcome to New Orleans International Airport...
How's Mom?
She's still on life support.
We're gonna take her off life support.
That's why you came here.
Thanks, Bill. And hello.
Hello, Tig.
[respirator hissing]
It's just not her.
It most certainly is her, Tig.
Look at the ID on the bed.
Bill, come on.
I know it's her, I'm just...
Never mind.
So, the nurse is gonna go ahead and disconnect the respirator.
Any questions?
About death?
About the process.
Is she gonna die right away?
Possibly.
But it could take hours, even days.
Are we ready?
Yeah, she wouldn't want to be like this.
- I agree. - Yeah.
Would you mind stepping this way, please.
- [gasping breath] - [monitor beeping]
Doctor: I'm here if you need me.
[monitor beeping]
It's 4:30. I have to go home, feed the cat.
Bonkers eats at 5:00 sharp.
Can't you call someone?
Bonkers is a senior cat.
She takes a precise portion.
Uh, okay. I'll drive ya.
Tig, you'll stay here?
Are you sure we don't all three need to go home and feed Bonkers?
Yeah, of course, I'm gonna stay here.
We'll be back.
[gasping]
[beeping continues]
Man: [on P.A.] Steve to ICU, please.
Steve, ICU.
[gasping]
[exhaling]
[monitor beeping]
Did someone hit the call button?
Yeah, I did, from in here.
Ma'am, what can I help you with?
My mother stops breathing for, like, 10 seconds,
and I keep thinking it's gonna be her last breath.
Is... is that gonna happen soon?
And this is your mother, Caroline?
Tig: Yeah.
Having fun? Time to get cleaned up.
Woo! Come here, baby.
[laughing]
[laughing] Come back here.
[laughing]
Woo! I'm gonna get you! Ha ha!
- [gasping] - You pushed the call button?
Yeah, could you do that thing again
where you clear out her throat or lungs or something?
She can't breathe.
That's kind of the point, hon.
I thought when somebody was taken off life support
that they just went to sleep or, uh...
like a candle just went out.
I... I feel like I'm just sitting here listening
to my mother drown.
Mm-hmm.
[gasping]
[bell dings]
Did you need something?
I think... I think my mother...
Yes. I'm sorry, she's gone.
What... what happens now? Do I just leave?
[laughing] Do you just leave?
No. [laughing]
You can't just leave your mother.
[laughing]
I'm sorry.
I didn't know.
Oh, my gosh, that'd be just straight up nuts.
- Yeah. - [laughing]
I'm realizing that now.
Bye, Caroline. Take care.
- Bye. - Thanks, everybody.
Best wishes.
- Thank you. - Be good.
- Woman: Bye, Caroline. - Man: Love you.
- Man: Bye, Caroline. - Woman: It's been a pleasure.
Pardon me?
I said, what do I do now?
Oh, honey, you can go on home.
We'll take care of everything.
- Excuse me. - Mm-hmm?
I don't know how to leave.
Oh, I'll take you.
We're gonna go right around the corner.
- All right? - Thank you.
[birds chirping]
Hey, sugar, did you have fun tonight?
No. Not tonight.
You died.
- Good morning. - Good morning.
[sighs]
Hey, I'm real sorry that we didn't make it back last night.
You know, Bill and I, from here on out,
we can handle things.
I mean, you... you should probably just
get some rest. I mean, you still look pretty bad.
You should probably just take a nap or something.
Thanks.
Did Mom pick these?
Yeah.
Couple of days ago.
We should probably toss them soon.
Don't want bees in here.
Maybe let a bee in from time to time, Bill.
[phone ringing]
Bonkers. Move.
Move, Bonkers. Move, kitty.
[meowing]
Oh, it's Brooke. Hold on a second.
Hello?
- How ya holdin' up? -I don't know.
Well, don't worry. I'm here.
I know you said you didn't need me, but I wanted to come.
- Where are you? -I'm at the airport.
Everything at the L'Oreal party was set,
so the other publicist said I could go.
-Wait, what? - I think I did a pretty good job,
although, you just never know
with these, like, passive-aggressive corporate types.
Anyway, the good news is, I'm free now.
You're in New Orleans.
Yeah. I'm just about to get in a cab.
Just... I'll come get you.
I need, like, 12 beignets.
There's been a death.
This is Mom's new car?
Was.
I think you should take it back to Los Angeles.
I could use the space.
Jeez, pull it together.
You don't want to be too sentimental.
What?
What are you lookin' at?
I'm sorry.
I was looking at the results of your procedure.
You sure you can drive?
No, I'm good.
I'm great.
Hey.
How are you?
[sighs] Oh, I'm...
What is it?
I just, um...
I didn't think you were just gonna show up.
Of course I'm gonna show up. I'm your girlfriend.
Are you not happy to see me?
It's not that I'm not happy to see you,
it's just that I'm just not happy.
It's just so hard not knowing where I stand with you.
I'm sure that can be devastating.
[laughing]
- Come on, let's... - Okay.
I can't help with that, by the way.
Did you bring everything from Los Angeles?
I don't know how long I'm gonna be here.
Whose this car?
[whispering] Just a reminder,
my stepfather Bill is not the warmest guy,
so you'll find him somewhere between
room temperature and sleet.
Well, he's probably just in shock,
or denial, like in the Keebler-Ross stages of grief.
Uh, KÃ¼bler. Keebler is the tiny elves
that live in the hollowed out tree,
and they make the, uh, cookies.
Regular size cookies.
Right.
So they were just watching TV,
and she fell down and hit her head?
I can't imagine what he's going through.
They also make the, uh, crackers.
They make, uh... Keebler makes crackers.
- Okay. - It's KÃ¼bler, not Keebler.
- Thank you. - Hey, guys.
So, uh, this is my girlfriend Brooke.
Hey, what's up?
Those beignets?
Awesome.
Brooke. Bill Flannigan.
Hi.
- Ahh. - Uh, just a second.
I'm cataloging Caroline's personal affects.
Getting rid of all this stuff is gonna be a big job,
but I'm confident we can pull this off in a couple of days.
A couple of days.
Are... you're kidding, right?
Are you joking?
Is that your first joke ever?
Why would I be joking?
I'm your stepfather, so technically,
we're not related anymore.
Wait a minute. You're not our daddy?
Technically, we have no legal connection
now that your mother is gone.
In her will, she stated that you and Remy
would take possession of all of her things.
Her furniture is now yours.
I can't keep it in my home.
- Oh. - That literally makes no sense.
I'm not gonna sue you for keeping Mom's stuff in the house.
I'm sick. I mean, I can't move this.
Can't we just be a family for five minutes?
Not legally.
[laughing]
So, where am I gonna put all this stuff?
They have storage facilities.
Have you guys talked to a grief counselor?
'Cause I actually have a friend in L.A.
who's a death doula.
Bill, how does that grab ya?
Brooke.
[sighs]
Here I come.
[sighs]
Where do you think your boobs are?
What?
Like, where did the doctors put 'em when they took 'em off?
Did they just throw 'em in a trashcan?
I hope so. Recycling was out of the question.
Isn't it weird to think about, though?
Picturing your tits in a dumpster in some back alley in Hollywood.
Would you please stop flirting with me right now?
When are you gonna let me see?
I haven't even looked down yet.
Come on. It's no big deal.
I have seen some crazy shit.
Just let me look and I'll tell you how bad it is.
No.
Okay.
Well, you need to get some sleep,
tomorrow is a big day.
Tomorrow's actually a very small day
because my mother's not in it.
[sighs] Every day from now on will be smaller.
The town's smaller. I'm smaller.
Goodnight.
Bad night.
Remember all the strawberries we used to pick
out on these tracks?
Yeah, that was safe.
You got your eulogy ready?
No, I thought I'd do something off the cuff.
Of course, I have it ready.
It's the last thing I'll ever say to her.
Well, it's really not the last thing you'll say to her.
Because she can't hear you.
Obviously.
The last thing you said to her
was probably something like
okay or... bye.
Thanks, Bill. Thanks for that.
Brooke: No, I know what Bill's trying to say.
Sometimes reality, even when it's imperfect,
is more beautiful than anything we could ever imagine or write.
Do you really think that's what Bill was saying?
We ask that the Lord Jesus draw Caroline to his bosom,
and to bless her and to keep her
for all eternity in paradise.
Tig.
[birds chirping]
I always thought I would kind of know
what it would feel like when she died.
Getting the call and...
what the funeral would be like.
[chuckles] I was way, way off.
My mother always encouraged me to be true to myself.
If I ever had a problem with anybody at school or in life,
she would always tell me to tell them to go to hell.
I wanted to talk about that today.
But then I was concerned that maybe
it wouldn't be appropriate
in the presence of a priest.
And then, all I could hear in my head was...
my mother telling me,
"Well, sweetie, if the priest has a problem with you saying that,
then he can go to hell, too."
The last time I heard from her was on my birthday.
It was last week, and I... I missed her call,
and I haven't been able to listen...
I haven't been able to listen to the voicemail yet.
Brooke: That's your biological father, right?
Tig: Yep, that's Mick.
He never got over Mom.
And that's Girlie, his wife,
and their son Dominic.
But they call him Ding Dong.
No, Girlie... Girlie calls him Ding Dong.
It's this whole thing in the Philippines,
call them doorbell nicknames.
Doorbell nicknames.
I can't believe that's your father.
Well, I mean, he pretty much took off
when we were still in diapers.
so he's kind of just a guy we know at this point.
A guy with an unmarked van and a knife in his boot.
And Ding Dong.
- Tig. - Hey.
You can keep your mother's possessions in the house.
For now.
So, you're not concerned that I'll sue you over Bonker's couch?
Okay, so I could stay for a while.
Remy and I could sort through everything,
divide it up and we could start pricing storage units or...
I feel like I need to be here.
I don't know why.
You're gonna stay at the house?
Sure, I mean, if... if that's okay.
I know we're not technically related anymore,
- but... - Stay.
As long as you need.
Thank you.
[children laughing]
Go to hell!