Two men at a restaurant. Dinner's almost finished. The one on the right continues to pick at his food.
A
It was good.
B
I thought the chicken was dry.
A
The beef was good. Your chicken was okay.
B
Just a little dry. Not too much.
A
Just mentionably dry.
B
Right. Not complainably.
A
You know, I was thinking the other day. I saw this man on the news wrestling a pig. It was some stupid thing for charity or something. I don't know. Filler news, not real news. He was covered in this. Oil I guess. Or something. Crisco. Disgusting. And the pig was just squealing its head off. You know. Ferocious squealing. Almost like a kid being tortured or something awful like that. And this grease-covered guy, just holding onto it for dear life.
B
They put that on the news?
A
Yeah. I know. Pathetic, right? But that pig. The guy. I thought, "My God. I feel like that. I feel like that guy holding on that grease covered squealing thing."
Silence.
B
It passes.
A
I know.
B
It always passes.
A
I know. But I'm exhausted. I don't believe I can win anymore. I'm sorry, but I don't.
Another silence.
B
They put that on the news?
A
Yeah, I know. Pathetic, right?
B
A little. What made you bring it up?
A
Nothing. Just thought it was wierd.
B
Wierd.
They go back to restaurant silence. The lights go down.
Monday, April 19, 2010
LOOKING BACK: 4.8.2008: The Cave of Wonders
The Husband and the Wife. A couch. The light of a television hits them.
THE WIFE
I want to take a trip.
THE HUSBAND
Huh?
THE WIFE
Trip.
THE HUSBAND
Trip what?
THE WIFE
I want to take one. I want us to take a trip somewhere.
THE HUSBAND
Where do you want to go?
THE WIFE
Somewhere. Some place we haven't seen before.
THE HUSBAND
There are a lot of places we haven't seen before.
THE WIFE
I know.
THE HUSBAND
There are places down our street we haven't seen before.
THE WIFE
That's not what I meant.
THE HUSBAND
If you want to take a trip to the Brennan's garage three doors down, I'd be happy to arrange it for the weekend.
THE WIFE
You know what I meant. Don't make fun of me.
THE HUSBAND
I wasn't...
THE WIFE
Don't make fun of the things I want.
THE HUSBAND
I'm sorry.
A silence falls. Just the flicker of the TV. The muffled sound of a documentary narration.
A man appears behind the couch. A nature photographer. He's in full adventurer regalia. He's very quiet. He peeks up, rises slowly, and snaps a picture of the couple on the couch. Then he descends again, out of sight.
The Husband and Wife are none the wiser.
THE HUSBAND
You watching this?
THE WIFE
Sort of.
THE HUSBAND
It's amazing.
THE WIFE
I think it's sordid.
The Husband turns up the volume with the remote. We hear this part clearly.
DOCUMENTARY NARRATION
"... are stark portraits of what photographer Jake Madden calls "Human Chasms," the gulfs between people, no matter how close they are. Madden says:"
JAKE MADDEN
"Everyone thinks it's just dead air. But it's not. The photographs show. The space is like a cave of wonders."
THE HUSBAND
I love that he calls it a "Cave of Wonders."
THE WIFE
You can't take pictures of that.
THE HUSBAND
He says he can.
DOCUMENTARY NARRATION
"Madden atrributes the glorious complexity of his work to the complexity of its subject. Madden says it takes a lot of neglect, anger, frustration, compromise, failure, and deception to create the most beautiful of his portraits. But he says, it's worth it."
THE WIFE
Funny how that one looks like our living room.
JAKE MADDEN
"This is my favorite. Look at the swirl of colors."
THE HUSBAND
She has the exact same shoes as you do, honey.
The photographer rises and sneaks out of the room.
THE WIFE
I wish we could go to a place that beautiful.
THE HUSBAND
I doubt we could afford it. It's got to be in Europe somewhere.
Silence as they contemplate themselves.
The lights go out.
THE WIFE
I want to take a trip.
THE HUSBAND
Huh?
THE WIFE
Trip.
THE HUSBAND
Trip what?
THE WIFE
I want to take one. I want us to take a trip somewhere.
THE HUSBAND
Where do you want to go?
THE WIFE
Somewhere. Some place we haven't seen before.
THE HUSBAND
There are a lot of places we haven't seen before.
THE WIFE
I know.
THE HUSBAND
There are places down our street we haven't seen before.
THE WIFE
That's not what I meant.
THE HUSBAND
If you want to take a trip to the Brennan's garage three doors down, I'd be happy to arrange it for the weekend.
THE WIFE
You know what I meant. Don't make fun of me.
THE HUSBAND
I wasn't...
THE WIFE
Don't make fun of the things I want.
THE HUSBAND
I'm sorry.
A silence falls. Just the flicker of the TV. The muffled sound of a documentary narration.
A man appears behind the couch. A nature photographer. He's in full adventurer regalia. He's very quiet. He peeks up, rises slowly, and snaps a picture of the couple on the couch. Then he descends again, out of sight.
The Husband and Wife are none the wiser.
THE HUSBAND
You watching this?
THE WIFE
Sort of.
THE HUSBAND
It's amazing.
THE WIFE
I think it's sordid.
The Husband turns up the volume with the remote. We hear this part clearly.
DOCUMENTARY NARRATION
"... are stark portraits of what photographer Jake Madden calls "Human Chasms," the gulfs between people, no matter how close they are. Madden says:"
JAKE MADDEN
"Everyone thinks it's just dead air. But it's not. The photographs show. The space is like a cave of wonders."
THE HUSBAND
I love that he calls it a "Cave of Wonders."
THE WIFE
You can't take pictures of that.
THE HUSBAND
He says he can.
DOCUMENTARY NARRATION
"Madden atrributes the glorious complexity of his work to the complexity of its subject. Madden says it takes a lot of neglect, anger, frustration, compromise, failure, and deception to create the most beautiful of his portraits. But he says, it's worth it."
THE WIFE
Funny how that one looks like our living room.
JAKE MADDEN
"This is my favorite. Look at the swirl of colors."
THE HUSBAND
She has the exact same shoes as you do, honey.
The photographer rises and sneaks out of the room.
THE WIFE
I wish we could go to a place that beautiful.
THE HUSBAND
I doubt we could afford it. It's got to be in Europe somewhere.
Silence as they contemplate themselves.
The lights go out.
LOOKING BACK: 4.1.2008: The Winged Man (Fly Shy)
The Guy and Icarus.
ICARUS
Wanna try these on?
THE GUY
I don't think so.
ICARUS
No faith in the apparatus?
THE GUY
No. Sorry. No offense.
ICARUS
None taken. Nobody ever wants to. Try them out. Word travels.
THE GUY
That it does.
ICARUS
People are fly shy. It's what I call it. Not a technical name. Just a bit of. You know. Lingo. Of the personal kind. They see the evidence of a failed attempt, and they won't come near even a piece of it. Fly shy. I don't get it.
THE GUY
I do. I get it.
ICARUS
I think, as long as there's a sliver of a chance that the events will play out differently, it's worth a go. Within reason, of course. But if there's hope... you know, I think there's got to be at least the attempt. No time for fly shy. You know?
THE GUY
Who wants to fall out the sky more than once? Hell. Who wants to do it at all?
ICARUS
At least something's happening to you.
There's a silence between them.
THE GUY
I feel a little beaten up. Bruised. I know you're supposed to just brush off the dirt, take a deep breath, and plunge ahead. I know it's what you do every day. But I just. I just don't want to today. I just want to be still. Completely still.
ICARUS
The only one that still are the dead ones. You're far from dead, buddy.
THE GUY
True.
ICARUS
Think about it. I think these wings might fit you. No time for fly shy.
The lights go down.
ICARUS
Wanna try these on?
THE GUY
I don't think so.
ICARUS
No faith in the apparatus?
THE GUY
No. Sorry. No offense.
ICARUS
None taken. Nobody ever wants to. Try them out. Word travels.
THE GUY
That it does.
ICARUS
People are fly shy. It's what I call it. Not a technical name. Just a bit of. You know. Lingo. Of the personal kind. They see the evidence of a failed attempt, and they won't come near even a piece of it. Fly shy. I don't get it.
THE GUY
I do. I get it.
ICARUS
I think, as long as there's a sliver of a chance that the events will play out differently, it's worth a go. Within reason, of course. But if there's hope... you know, I think there's got to be at least the attempt. No time for fly shy. You know?
THE GUY
Who wants to fall out the sky more than once? Hell. Who wants to do it at all?
ICARUS
At least something's happening to you.
There's a silence between them.
THE GUY
I feel a little beaten up. Bruised. I know you're supposed to just brush off the dirt, take a deep breath, and plunge ahead. I know it's what you do every day. But I just. I just don't want to today. I just want to be still. Completely still.
ICARUS
The only one that still are the dead ones. You're far from dead, buddy.
THE GUY
True.
ICARUS
Think about it. I think these wings might fit you. No time for fly shy.
The lights go down.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
4.18.2010: The Chair of Forgetfulness (My friend, you cannot look behind)
Theseus and Pirithous, the best of friends. They are in the underworld, at the Chair of Forgetfulness.
THESEUS
it's alright.
PIRITHOUS
No.
THESEUS
I'll be here. I promise. I'm not going anywhere.
PIRITHOUS
Absolutely not.
THESEUS
We've talked this through. There's no surprise. You sit in the chair...
PIRITHOUS
The Chair of Forgetfulness...
THESEUS
Yes. You sit in the chair, and it all goes away. Everything.
PIRITHOUS
Everything.
THESEUS
The pain. The disappointment. The failure.
PIRITHOUS
Everything.
THESEUS
And I'll be standing here. Right here. Waiting for you once you're ready to go.
There's a pause.
PIRITHOUS
I'm scared. I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't be. I know we've gone over this. but I'm scared. I sit in the chair, and it all falls away -- all the terrible miserable awful things I don't want to carry another moment -- but what if when they fall away, so does everything else -- all the good, all the joy, music, memories, my loves, you...
THESEUS
This is my promise to you, my friend.
This place,
this myth,
this is ours.
This space that was created
without you in it
now seems much richer and fuller
and more alive
with you in it.
So in this space,
this space that I keep alive
for almost no one else but you,
I promise that the only thing you forget
when you sit in that chair
are the things you want to forget.
Everything else is yours.
It's a fiction, yes,
but it's all I can do.
And I want to give you a space
where there is no sadness
and the world is exactly what you want the world to be.
So sit.
Forget.
And when you're done,
the world is yours to make.
It's a meager gift, but it's the best he can do. Theseus motions for Pirithous to sit. And Pirithous does. And the burden he carries melts away. Only the bad parts. Because in this play, the myth is what I make it.
Pirithous is happy. The world is well.
THESEUS
it's alright.
PIRITHOUS
No.
THESEUS
I'll be here. I promise. I'm not going anywhere.
PIRITHOUS
Absolutely not.
THESEUS
We've talked this through. There's no surprise. You sit in the chair...
PIRITHOUS
The Chair of Forgetfulness...
THESEUS
Yes. You sit in the chair, and it all goes away. Everything.
PIRITHOUS
Everything.
THESEUS
The pain. The disappointment. The failure.
PIRITHOUS
Everything.
THESEUS
And I'll be standing here. Right here. Waiting for you once you're ready to go.
There's a pause.
PIRITHOUS
I'm scared. I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't be. I know we've gone over this. but I'm scared. I sit in the chair, and it all falls away -- all the terrible miserable awful things I don't want to carry another moment -- but what if when they fall away, so does everything else -- all the good, all the joy, music, memories, my loves, you...
THESEUS
This is my promise to you, my friend.
This place,
this myth,
this is ours.
This space that was created
without you in it
now seems much richer and fuller
and more alive
with you in it.
So in this space,
this space that I keep alive
for almost no one else but you,
I promise that the only thing you forget
when you sit in that chair
are the things you want to forget.
Everything else is yours.
It's a fiction, yes,
but it's all I can do.
And I want to give you a space
where there is no sadness
and the world is exactly what you want the world to be.
So sit.
Forget.
And when you're done,
the world is yours to make.
It's a meager gift, but it's the best he can do. Theseus motions for Pirithous to sit. And Pirithous does. And the burden he carries melts away. Only the bad parts. Because in this play, the myth is what I make it.
Pirithous is happy. The world is well.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
4.17.2010: Between,,, You Know (Odysseus and Icarus Consider the Options)
Odysseus in a boat. He's peering intently ahead, through a telescope. He looks seriously worried.
Alongside him is a younger sailor, looking equally worried.
SAILOR
This looks bad.
ODYSSEUS
It is bad.
SAILOR
So, what do we do?
ODYSSEUS
Steer the ship left, we get eaten by Scylla. Steer the ship left, and we get sucked in by Charybdis.
A pause.
SAILOR
Those are our options? The ONLY options? Die or die?
ODYSSEUS
Yes.
SAILOR
What about going back? Change course completely. Forward isn't the only direction, sir.
ODYSSEUS
You don't know much about Greek mythology, do you?
SAILOR
Look, I didn't ask to be cast in this myth. I don't even have a name! I'm just "Sailor," and if you consider the stage directions, I'm a young sailor, I have a lot of life left in me, so if I have a voice in this other than as a passive participant so you have someone to talk to, I vote we turn back. I don't like what happens if we steer right and I certainly don't like what happens if we steer left. So let's just steer back -- yes, we'll look like pussies, but we'll at least be ALIVE to be ridiculed.
ODYSSEUS
You have a lot to learn, young man.
Above them, we see Icarus, mid-flight. He's high enough to be thrilled with the implications of flight, but not yet high enough to get burned by the sun.
ICARUS
Odysseus!
ODYSSEUS
Icarus! How's the sky today, my friend?
ICARUS
The day is beautiful! The sun is spectacular!
ODYSSEUS
My friend, I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. Wondered if you might be able to help me out.
ICARUS
Certainly. What's the problem.
SAILOR
A rock -- where a multi-headed beast will devour us as we pass! And a hard place -- where a sucking whirlpool will swallow us whole!
ODYSSEUS
Steer left or steer right? Death either way?
SAILOR
Or turn back! Seriously, why isn't that option on the table? You people are fucking ridiculous.
ICARUS
Damned if you do, damned if you don't.
The point is, you're damned either way,
so your choice isn't an escape from damnation,
its how you handle being damned.
ODYSSEUS
That's the purpose of myth.
ICARUS
The consideration of impossible questions...
ODYSSEUS
Not their answers.
ICARUS
We're all going to die.
We're all going to fail.
We're all going to try to to touch the sun, and miss.
ODYSSEUS
So the only way you know who you are
what you're made of
what kind of person you will be
is to accept failure.
ICARUS
Fall from the sky.
ODYSSEUS
Sail through the middle of an unwinnable situation.
ICARUS
Because -- and here's the secret --
on the other side of it...
ODYSSEUS
...after the failure...
ICARUS
... you get reborn.
ODYSSEUS
Death is a temporary thing.
Skins will be shed,
transformation will occur
and you will be changed.
ICARUS
Flip a coin.
Steer in one direction.
You'll probably fail.
That's life.
ODYSSEUS
Isn't it wonderful?
Icarus flies up into the sky and out of sight. The sailor looks at Odysseus, looks ahead to the rock and the hard place. Pulls out a coin. Flips it.
SAILOR
Steer left. Let's see what happens.
Alongside him is a younger sailor, looking equally worried.
SAILOR
This looks bad.
ODYSSEUS
It is bad.
SAILOR
So, what do we do?
ODYSSEUS
Steer the ship left, we get eaten by Scylla. Steer the ship left, and we get sucked in by Charybdis.
A pause.
SAILOR
Those are our options? The ONLY options? Die or die?
ODYSSEUS
Yes.
SAILOR
What about going back? Change course completely. Forward isn't the only direction, sir.
ODYSSEUS
You don't know much about Greek mythology, do you?
SAILOR
Look, I didn't ask to be cast in this myth. I don't even have a name! I'm just "Sailor," and if you consider the stage directions, I'm a young sailor, I have a lot of life left in me, so if I have a voice in this other than as a passive participant so you have someone to talk to, I vote we turn back. I don't like what happens if we steer right and I certainly don't like what happens if we steer left. So let's just steer back -- yes, we'll look like pussies, but we'll at least be ALIVE to be ridiculed.
ODYSSEUS
You have a lot to learn, young man.
Above them, we see Icarus, mid-flight. He's high enough to be thrilled with the implications of flight, but not yet high enough to get burned by the sun.
ICARUS
Odysseus!
ODYSSEUS
Icarus! How's the sky today, my friend?
ICARUS
The day is beautiful! The sun is spectacular!
ODYSSEUS
My friend, I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. Wondered if you might be able to help me out.
ICARUS
Certainly. What's the problem.
SAILOR
A rock -- where a multi-headed beast will devour us as we pass! And a hard place -- where a sucking whirlpool will swallow us whole!
ODYSSEUS
Steer left or steer right? Death either way?
SAILOR
Or turn back! Seriously, why isn't that option on the table? You people are fucking ridiculous.
ICARUS
Damned if you do, damned if you don't.
The point is, you're damned either way,
so your choice isn't an escape from damnation,
its how you handle being damned.
ODYSSEUS
That's the purpose of myth.
ICARUS
The consideration of impossible questions...
ODYSSEUS
Not their answers.
ICARUS
We're all going to die.
We're all going to fail.
We're all going to try to to touch the sun, and miss.
ODYSSEUS
So the only way you know who you are
what you're made of
what kind of person you will be
is to accept failure.
ICARUS
Fall from the sky.
ODYSSEUS
Sail through the middle of an unwinnable situation.
ICARUS
Because -- and here's the secret --
on the other side of it...
ODYSSEUS
...after the failure...
ICARUS
... you get reborn.
ODYSSEUS
Death is a temporary thing.
Skins will be shed,
transformation will occur
and you will be changed.
ICARUS
Flip a coin.
Steer in one direction.
You'll probably fail.
That's life.
ODYSSEUS
Isn't it wonderful?
Icarus flies up into the sky and out of sight. The sailor looks at Odysseus, looks ahead to the rock and the hard place. Pulls out a coin. Flips it.
SAILOR
Steer left. Let's see what happens.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
1.16.2010: Icarus in Small (Give me the seat by the window)
Two seats on an commerical airliner. Icarus in one, The Guy in the other.
THE GUY
This is the first time I've ever been on a plane.
ICARUS
No way. Really?
THE GUY
Yeah. I have this -- always have had this -- anxiety, I guess, is the word to use but it's more like an obsessive fixation, this CERTAINTY that I will set foot on a plane, take off, and find myself sucked into the air when the damn thing splits open, dumping me onto some field over Virginia. Splat. End of story.
ICARUS
Been there. It's not pretty.
THE GUY
I know it's irrational... but it always seemed so much easier to just listen to the fear, give into it, than face it.
ICARUS
What changed your mind?
THE GUY
Twenty-nine hours on a train to spend a week in New York. It was an adventure at 20. At 34... well, plummeting out of a plane and getting squashed seems less painful.
ICARUS
I'm not the best guy for this.
I'm myth.
My fall... it's metaphorical.
(sort of. I do actually fall,
drown,
die,
the whole nine yards,
just for me -- the end
is not really an end.
it's a temporary thing.
You fall, you die.
Game over.
THE GUY
Not helping.
ICARUS
Odds are, you won't.
And then you get to see
thepart of the flight
I never get to see.
THE GUY
What's that?
ICARUS
The destination.
The end.
The airport in New York
and your friends
and your show
and the future...
THE GUY
I'm not as scared as I thought I would be.
I'm sitting here,
and in the imagined version of this evening
I was terrified.
But I'm fine.
I'm calm.
I'm...
ICARUS
Ready.
You're ready.
When the plane takes off,
imagine the wings
as sprouting from your back
and the wind in your face
and the heat of the sun on your face
and the possibility of everything on the other side
holding you up.
The physics of flight. Just conjecture.
That's what keeps you aloft.
The possible things.
The Guy smiles. He turns, and sees that Icarus has changed. He's no longer some random boy who's a metaphor for all sorts of things. Icarus is Marc, cap, flannel shirt and scruffy beard, smiling that smile with the raised eyebrows that makes the Guy happy.
Maybe he's been Marc all along, and I'd been talking to him for years. Just waiting for that trip. The fountain. The rainy Saturday afternoon. This flight. The future.
The plane roars to life. Everything will be okay.
THE GUY
This is the first time I've ever been on a plane.
ICARUS
No way. Really?
THE GUY
Yeah. I have this -- always have had this -- anxiety, I guess, is the word to use but it's more like an obsessive fixation, this CERTAINTY that I will set foot on a plane, take off, and find myself sucked into the air when the damn thing splits open, dumping me onto some field over Virginia. Splat. End of story.
ICARUS
Been there. It's not pretty.
THE GUY
I know it's irrational... but it always seemed so much easier to just listen to the fear, give into it, than face it.
ICARUS
What changed your mind?
THE GUY
Twenty-nine hours on a train to spend a week in New York. It was an adventure at 20. At 34... well, plummeting out of a plane and getting squashed seems less painful.
ICARUS
I'm not the best guy for this.
I'm myth.
My fall... it's metaphorical.
(sort of. I do actually fall,
drown,
die,
the whole nine yards,
just for me -- the end
is not really an end.
it's a temporary thing.
You fall, you die.
Game over.
THE GUY
Not helping.
ICARUS
Odds are, you won't.
And then you get to see
thepart of the flight
I never get to see.
THE GUY
What's that?
ICARUS
The destination.
The end.
The airport in New York
and your friends
and your show
and the future...
THE GUY
I'm not as scared as I thought I would be.
I'm sitting here,
and in the imagined version of this evening
I was terrified.
But I'm fine.
I'm calm.
I'm...
ICARUS
Ready.
You're ready.
When the plane takes off,
imagine the wings
as sprouting from your back
and the wind in your face
and the heat of the sun on your face
and the possibility of everything on the other side
holding you up.
The physics of flight. Just conjecture.
That's what keeps you aloft.
The possible things.
The Guy smiles. He turns, and sees that Icarus has changed. He's no longer some random boy who's a metaphor for all sorts of things. Icarus is Marc, cap, flannel shirt and scruffy beard, smiling that smile with the raised eyebrows that makes the Guy happy.
Maybe he's been Marc all along, and I'd been talking to him for years. Just waiting for that trip. The fountain. The rainy Saturday afternoon. This flight. The future.
The plane roars to life. Everything will be okay.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Life/Play Has a New Home on the Web
Life/Play has a new address.
To expand its web presence in preparation for its New York Fringe Festival debut, Life/Play has moved.
It's new address is http://www.lifeplayproject.com
It's got a new look, and some updated features (including a video blog that will document the preapratiosn and trip to New York!)
Please stop by the new site and leave a comment in the Reader's Comment section. I'd like to keep better tabs on who's reading this and where they're from.
Thanks for reading Life/Play, and keep following us to New York!
To expand its web presence in preparation for its New York Fringe Festival debut, Life/Play has moved.
It's new address is http://www.lifeplayproject.com
It's got a new look, and some updated features (including a video blog that will document the preapratiosn and trip to New York!)
Please stop by the new site and leave a comment in the Reader's Comment section. I'd like to keep better tabs on who's reading this and where they're from.
Thanks for reading Life/Play, and keep following us to New York!
Monday, May 28, 2007
5.28.2007: Unfinished Business (with an unexpected coda about something else entirely)
“It's funny how the fella, even though your supposedly over him, keeps popping up, I think one should be done before moving to another?”
-- Anonymous comment on the blog
The Guy sits with Nate on a couch. “CSI” plays on a television set we can’t see.
Nate has his arm around the Guy. They are content.
The Fella appears.
THE FELLA
Hello.
NATE
What’s he doing here?
THE GUY
Nothing. Don’t worry about it.
So, Nate doesn’t. They go back to watching “CSI.”
THE FELLA
I got hit in the face by a crazy person this weekend.
THE GUY
Oh yeah?
NATE
Hey. We’re watching TV. You and I. Not him.
THE GUY
I know.
THE FELLA
Don’t be jealous, Nate. Even though he likes me better.
THE GUY
Shut up. I don’t.
NATE
You don’t, do you?
THE GUY
No.
NATE
I didn’t think so.
THE FELLA
Yes you do. Because here I am. Again. In these plays.
THE GUY
Just because you show up here, doesn’t mean I still want to be with you. Which I don’t. It only means that you’re a peripheral part of my consciousness, showing up here to represent some part of my life that’s over with. I mean you don’t even have a name in here…
NATE
I get a name.
THE FELLA
Don’t rub it in.
THE GUY
So can we get back to watching TV now?
THE FELLA
But I’m why this whole thing got started!
NATE
He is?
THE FELLA
Yeah, buddy. Look back at the first couple days. All me! I am the reason all this madness got rolling. So, if you really think about it… Nate… I’m the reason you’re here.
THE GUY
No. I’M the reason he’s here. I’m the writer of this thing.
THE FELLA
But if it wasn’t for me…
THE GUY
Yes, I appreciate that. If it wasn’t for you, none of this would have even come into being. But beyond the point of inspiration, you have nothing to do with this thing. This is my life here…
THE FELLA
Of which I am a part…
THE GUY
Yes. Of which you are a part.
NATE
I really wanna watch the rest of this episode of CSI.
THE GUY
I know. I’m sorry.
THE FELLA
Look at your own plays, Mister Writer-Man. You’re not over me at all. I keep popping up, unexpectedly, and it’s always a variation on the same theme: missed opportunity, lost love, the One That Got Away. So what are you doing here? Seriously.
THE GUY
He tells me he likes me.
That’s what I’m doing here.
He tells me he likes me, and I believe him.
Don’t get me wrong.
I’m always worried he’s going to change his mind
(because that’s what I do, you know,
wait for the other shoe to drop
because I haven’t yet gotten accustomed to good things sticking around)
But he reminds me without me asking.
We’ll just be sitting somewhere,
and he’ll tell me he’s happy to be with me.
That’s nice.
You never did that.
But I have to honor your place in this
because it wouldn’t be true otherwise.
But don’t think you’re here because I’m not happy where I am.
THE FELLA
You’ve written better plays than this.
THE GUY
I know.
THE FELLA
They’re getting unfocused. A little rambling.
THE GUY
I know.
THE FELLA
I don’t even particularly like the one I’m in right now.
THE GUY
I’d imagine you wouldn’t.
A shift, unexpected.
THE FELLA
What’s going on with you?
THE GUY
I don’t know exactly.
A tide seems to be changing.
We shall see.
NATE
Can we finish this episode now?
THE GUY
Yeah.
The Guy and Nate finish watching “CSI.” The Fella doesn’t go anywhere -- he hovers, but he’s quiet.
And in the silence, there is the feeling of something changing. Not necessarily between these three people, but in the entirety of this world.
Changes are coming. Most of them feel like positive ones. But you never know what comes around the corner until you’re around it.
Enjoy this right now. His arm over your shoulder. The cap he’s wearing. The way he laughs at that commercial.
Be right here, right now. For as long as you can.
The lights go down.
-- Anonymous comment on the blog
The Guy sits with Nate on a couch. “CSI” plays on a television set we can’t see.
Nate has his arm around the Guy. They are content.
The Fella appears.
THE FELLA
Hello.
NATE
What’s he doing here?
THE GUY
Nothing. Don’t worry about it.
So, Nate doesn’t. They go back to watching “CSI.”
THE FELLA
I got hit in the face by a crazy person this weekend.
THE GUY
Oh yeah?
NATE
Hey. We’re watching TV. You and I. Not him.
THE GUY
I know.
THE FELLA
Don’t be jealous, Nate. Even though he likes me better.
THE GUY
Shut up. I don’t.
NATE
You don’t, do you?
THE GUY
No.
NATE
I didn’t think so.
THE FELLA
Yes you do. Because here I am. Again. In these plays.
THE GUY
Just because you show up here, doesn’t mean I still want to be with you. Which I don’t. It only means that you’re a peripheral part of my consciousness, showing up here to represent some part of my life that’s over with. I mean you don’t even have a name in here…
NATE
I get a name.
THE FELLA
Don’t rub it in.
THE GUY
So can we get back to watching TV now?
THE FELLA
But I’m why this whole thing got started!
NATE
He is?
THE FELLA
Yeah, buddy. Look back at the first couple days. All me! I am the reason all this madness got rolling. So, if you really think about it… Nate… I’m the reason you’re here.
THE GUY
No. I’M the reason he’s here. I’m the writer of this thing.
THE FELLA
But if it wasn’t for me…
THE GUY
Yes, I appreciate that. If it wasn’t for you, none of this would have even come into being. But beyond the point of inspiration, you have nothing to do with this thing. This is my life here…
THE FELLA
Of which I am a part…
THE GUY
Yes. Of which you are a part.
NATE
I really wanna watch the rest of this episode of CSI.
THE GUY
I know. I’m sorry.
THE FELLA
Look at your own plays, Mister Writer-Man. You’re not over me at all. I keep popping up, unexpectedly, and it’s always a variation on the same theme: missed opportunity, lost love, the One That Got Away. So what are you doing here? Seriously.
THE GUY
He tells me he likes me.
That’s what I’m doing here.
He tells me he likes me, and I believe him.
Don’t get me wrong.
I’m always worried he’s going to change his mind
(because that’s what I do, you know,
wait for the other shoe to drop
because I haven’t yet gotten accustomed to good things sticking around)
But he reminds me without me asking.
We’ll just be sitting somewhere,
and he’ll tell me he’s happy to be with me.
That’s nice.
You never did that.
But I have to honor your place in this
because it wouldn’t be true otherwise.
But don’t think you’re here because I’m not happy where I am.
THE FELLA
You’ve written better plays than this.
THE GUY
I know.
THE FELLA
They’re getting unfocused. A little rambling.
THE GUY
I know.
THE FELLA
I don’t even particularly like the one I’m in right now.
THE GUY
I’d imagine you wouldn’t.
A shift, unexpected.
THE FELLA
What’s going on with you?
THE GUY
I don’t know exactly.
A tide seems to be changing.
We shall see.
NATE
Can we finish this episode now?
THE GUY
Yeah.
The Guy and Nate finish watching “CSI.” The Fella doesn’t go anywhere -- he hovers, but he’s quiet.
And in the silence, there is the feeling of something changing. Not necessarily between these three people, but in the entirety of this world.
Changes are coming. Most of them feel like positive ones. But you never know what comes around the corner until you’re around it.
Enjoy this right now. His arm over your shoulder. The cap he’s wearing. The way he laughs at that commercial.
Be right here, right now. For as long as you can.
The lights go down.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
5.27.2007:The Private Public
The Guy and The Reader, who sent a very nice comment to the blog.
THE GUY
Hello.
THE READER
I hope you don’t mind the comment.
THE GUY
Are you kidding? Not at all. Thank you.
THE READER
You’re welcome.
THE GUY
It’s encouraging. Most of the time, when I write these, I feel like I’m really not doing anything that’s interesting to anyone. Other than me, of course.
THE READER
Oh look.
THE GUY
What?
THE READER
Don’t you see what you’re about to do? You’re about to give a total stranger the “big idea” of this play.
THE GUY
Yeah, I am, aren’t I?
THE READER
And all because I said I liked it. That’s very kind of you.
THE GUY
Well, get on with it, then. Start spouting philosophical.
THE READER
Okay.
There’s always a risk being taken when you make the private public.
But it seems to bear out that the more private it is when it becomes public
the more people relate.
In specificity comes universality.
THE GUY
Playwriting 101.
THE READER
Yeah.
THE GUY
Write what you know.
THE READER
Yeah, you could just say it like that.
THE GUY
You know, I have these moments when I can sort of see this one little project assume a life of its own. It goes out into the world, and people read it, and it becomes larger than just me at a computer, typing away the little details of my life.
Then that moment passes, and it all seems self-indulgent again.
THE READER
Maybe it is. But what isn’t, when it comes to art?
THE GUY
Yeah.
THE READER
We’re all just making whatever we can the best way we know how.
Make meaning out of our lives.
Yours is just a little more openly egocentric.
THE GUY
I guess you’re right.
THE READER
Well, now look. Not only do I get the “big idea” but I get to be your reassuring voice of comfort, too.
THE GUY
It’s a good day for anonymous commentors, isn’t it?
THE READER
I’d say so.
The lights go down.
THE GUY
Hello.
THE READER
I hope you don’t mind the comment.
THE GUY
Are you kidding? Not at all. Thank you.
THE READER
You’re welcome.
THE GUY
It’s encouraging. Most of the time, when I write these, I feel like I’m really not doing anything that’s interesting to anyone. Other than me, of course.
THE READER
Oh look.
THE GUY
What?
THE READER
Don’t you see what you’re about to do? You’re about to give a total stranger the “big idea” of this play.
THE GUY
Yeah, I am, aren’t I?
THE READER
And all because I said I liked it. That’s very kind of you.
THE GUY
Well, get on with it, then. Start spouting philosophical.
THE READER
Okay.
There’s always a risk being taken when you make the private public.
But it seems to bear out that the more private it is when it becomes public
the more people relate.
In specificity comes universality.
THE GUY
Playwriting 101.
THE READER
Yeah.
THE GUY
Write what you know.
THE READER
Yeah, you could just say it like that.
THE GUY
You know, I have these moments when I can sort of see this one little project assume a life of its own. It goes out into the world, and people read it, and it becomes larger than just me at a computer, typing away the little details of my life.
Then that moment passes, and it all seems self-indulgent again.
THE READER
Maybe it is. But what isn’t, when it comes to art?
THE GUY
Yeah.
THE READER
We’re all just making whatever we can the best way we know how.
Make meaning out of our lives.
Yours is just a little more openly egocentric.
THE GUY
I guess you’re right.
THE READER
Well, now look. Not only do I get the “big idea” but I get to be your reassuring voice of comfort, too.
THE GUY
It’s a good day for anonymous commentors, isn’t it?
THE READER
I’d say so.
The lights go down.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
5.26.2007: A One-Line Play (Out of Necessity)
The Guy is beginning to feel a familiar weight starting to form in his chest. The kind of weight that appears when there is much to be done – too much to be done – and the pathway to the conclusion of everything seems very far away and almost unreachable.
This has nothing to do with love. This is the result of saying yes to too many things. The result of overextending yourself.
There is a moment on the way that won’t be pleasant. The Guy hates these days. But they come.
Not today. Today’s just a rumble.
THE GUY
One thing at a time. One thing at a time. One thing at a time.
To himself, he says this. Again and again. One line. Out of necessity.
The lights go down.
This has nothing to do with love. This is the result of saying yes to too many things. The result of overextending yourself.
There is a moment on the way that won’t be pleasant. The Guy hates these days. But they come.
Not today. Today’s just a rumble.
THE GUY
One thing at a time. One thing at a time. One thing at a time.
To himself, he says this. Again and again. One line. Out of necessity.
The lights go down.
Friday, May 25, 2007
5.25.2007: The Tower of Babel, or The Language of Lost Things
The stage is filled with actors. Chaos erupts from their mouths -- snatches of song, lines from the play, commerical jingles, random noises, foreign languages, ect. Everything at once, everything loud, everything deeply felt.
The Guy appears among them, a foreign language dictionary in his hand. Another actor, who so far has been silent, watches him.
AN ACTOR
It's not going to help you.
THE GUY
What??
AN ACTOR
It is not going to help you!
THE GUY
What won't??
AN ACTOR
Your book! It's not useful here!
THE GUY
I'm sorry! The noise... it makes it very difficult to hear!
The actor snaps his fingers. The babbling stops. Frozen.
AN ACTOR
Ask and ye shall recieve.
THE GUY
And this is the part where you say something important.
AN ACTOR
Ah. You're starting to see the patterns...
THE GUY
Yes, unfortunately. It's difficult not to, when you do this every single day, to start to see the ways in which your mind constructs the same path toward an idea. This is one of those days when something someone said triggered a thought -- vague and unformed, but a thought nonetheless -- and you are here, nameless character, to give some shape to it.
AN ACTOR
The Tower of Babel, then?
THE GUY
Yes. So now you say something that makes the spark of an idea turn into the whole thing.
AN ACTOR
No. I won't do that.
THE GUY
Really?
AN ACTOR
Really. It's late, and this isn't the place.
THE GUY
It isn't?
AN ACTOR
No. We're not in the Biblical Babel, although that's certainly worthy of a play down the road.
This Babel is the place where lost things go when they're no longer being looked for.
It's kind of a sad place, really.
They come to this place to be heard, even if no one really listens... at least to be heard.
An actor from the chaos starts to speak. It's The Fella.
THE FELLA
Hey Mr. Daigle. When are we hanging out?
THE GUY
Oh, it's you.
THE FELLA
I miss you.
THE GUY
It has been a while.
THE FELLA
We don't really talk like we used to.
THE GUY
No we don't.
THE FELLA
That's okay. Really, it is. I'm off someplace else. I'm not just here. There's somebody on my radar. And I know there's someone on yours...
THE GUY
Yes, there is.
THE FELLA
But there's still that little part... you know. You wrote about it before. We always seem to be doing this... pulling apart, and inching back together.
THE GUY
Yeah, that was what we've done before.
THE FELLA
A matter of time.
THE GUY
Not this time.
This one isn't just something to tide me over
until I get a chance to spend time with you again.
This one matters.
THE FELLA
Oh.
THE GUY
(to the actor)
Why am I even telling him this? He doesn't really miss me. Not like this. This is just some dumb thing I need to do to make myself feel better.
AN ACTOR
Lost things have a language all their own.
And to lose a love, however tentative and new, is the hardest language to unlearn.
We speak it until our tongues fall out
until our eyes glaze over
until the words stop sounding like words and
become something more like guttural grunts and moans
and then
only then
are we finally able to put the words to rest.
You move past things, but the conversation doesn't end.
And the conversations we stop having in life continue here,
until they've played themselves out.
It's not the best solution, but it's the only one we've got right now.
THE GUY
I should have known something would have failed when I didn't even give him a name. Even now, even in life, he was never a name. Just a moniker. The Fella. The 20-Year Old. An idea... and I was the same for him.
AN ACTOR
We all are short-sighted.
THE GUY
You can snap them back on now. The play's done. It's messy, but it's finished. Like me and him. Art mirrors life.
AN ACTOR
Fair enough.
He snaps. The chaos begins. The Guy joins in.
We might be unsatisfied, but there is always tomorrow's play. Always the next thing. Alwats what's yet to be spoken.
The Guy appears among them, a foreign language dictionary in his hand. Another actor, who so far has been silent, watches him.
AN ACTOR
It's not going to help you.
THE GUY
What??
AN ACTOR
It is not going to help you!
THE GUY
What won't??
AN ACTOR
Your book! It's not useful here!
THE GUY
I'm sorry! The noise... it makes it very difficult to hear!
The actor snaps his fingers. The babbling stops. Frozen.
AN ACTOR
Ask and ye shall recieve.
THE GUY
And this is the part where you say something important.
AN ACTOR
Ah. You're starting to see the patterns...
THE GUY
Yes, unfortunately. It's difficult not to, when you do this every single day, to start to see the ways in which your mind constructs the same path toward an idea. This is one of those days when something someone said triggered a thought -- vague and unformed, but a thought nonetheless -- and you are here, nameless character, to give some shape to it.
AN ACTOR
The Tower of Babel, then?
THE GUY
Yes. So now you say something that makes the spark of an idea turn into the whole thing.
AN ACTOR
No. I won't do that.
THE GUY
Really?
AN ACTOR
Really. It's late, and this isn't the place.
THE GUY
It isn't?
AN ACTOR
No. We're not in the Biblical Babel, although that's certainly worthy of a play down the road.
This Babel is the place where lost things go when they're no longer being looked for.
It's kind of a sad place, really.
They come to this place to be heard, even if no one really listens... at least to be heard.
An actor from the chaos starts to speak. It's The Fella.
THE FELLA
Hey Mr. Daigle. When are we hanging out?
THE GUY
Oh, it's you.
THE FELLA
I miss you.
THE GUY
It has been a while.
THE FELLA
We don't really talk like we used to.
THE GUY
No we don't.
THE FELLA
That's okay. Really, it is. I'm off someplace else. I'm not just here. There's somebody on my radar. And I know there's someone on yours...
THE GUY
Yes, there is.
THE FELLA
But there's still that little part... you know. You wrote about it before. We always seem to be doing this... pulling apart, and inching back together.
THE GUY
Yeah, that was what we've done before.
THE FELLA
A matter of time.
THE GUY
Not this time.
This one isn't just something to tide me over
until I get a chance to spend time with you again.
This one matters.
THE FELLA
Oh.
THE GUY
(to the actor)
Why am I even telling him this? He doesn't really miss me. Not like this. This is just some dumb thing I need to do to make myself feel better.
AN ACTOR
Lost things have a language all their own.
And to lose a love, however tentative and new, is the hardest language to unlearn.
We speak it until our tongues fall out
until our eyes glaze over
until the words stop sounding like words and
become something more like guttural grunts and moans
and then
only then
are we finally able to put the words to rest.
You move past things, but the conversation doesn't end.
And the conversations we stop having in life continue here,
until they've played themselves out.
It's not the best solution, but it's the only one we've got right now.
THE GUY
I should have known something would have failed when I didn't even give him a name. Even now, even in life, he was never a name. Just a moniker. The Fella. The 20-Year Old. An idea... and I was the same for him.
AN ACTOR
We all are short-sighted.
THE GUY
You can snap them back on now. The play's done. It's messy, but it's finished. Like me and him. Art mirrors life.
AN ACTOR
Fair enough.
He snaps. The chaos begins. The Guy joins in.
We might be unsatisfied, but there is always tomorrow's play. Always the next thing. Alwats what's yet to be spoken.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
5.24.2007: Because He Told Me He Looks Forward To These
The Guy is very tired. He’s on a trip to Houston, a job-related thing. He drove four hours after being at school all day (even hitting a half-hour stretch of single-lane traffic during which he never seemed to break 20 miles an hour). He didn’t reallt stop until about 10:30 -- made for a very long day.
And he sat here at the computer, really wanting to just turn the damn thing off and not write a play. Because it happens, right? It happens that you don’t get to things when you want to. It happens that you put something off because you know you won’t be able to give it your best. It happens that he sometimes decides not to write a play when he knows it’s just gonna be one of those stage-direction-only plays that irritate some people.
But The Guy is going to put something down on paper. Because he told me he looks forward to these, Nate does. And I know he checks them, too. I see the comments he leaves behind.
And I want to make him happy. Because I’ve noticed that in making him happy, my own day is made a little brighter.
I know, I know, stop writing about Nate already (I can hear some of your groaning this every time he shows up in a play) but he is what is on my mind when I opened this file to type this play.
He is what is happening to me.
So that’s what’s I’m writing about.
Because he told me he looks forward to these. And that made me smile.
And he sat here at the computer, really wanting to just turn the damn thing off and not write a play. Because it happens, right? It happens that you don’t get to things when you want to. It happens that you put something off because you know you won’t be able to give it your best. It happens that he sometimes decides not to write a play when he knows it’s just gonna be one of those stage-direction-only plays that irritate some people.
But The Guy is going to put something down on paper. Because he told me he looks forward to these, Nate does. And I know he checks them, too. I see the comments he leaves behind.
And I want to make him happy. Because I’ve noticed that in making him happy, my own day is made a little brighter.
I know, I know, stop writing about Nate already (I can hear some of your groaning this every time he shows up in a play) but he is what is on my mind when I opened this file to type this play.
He is what is happening to me.
So that’s what’s I’m writing about.
Because he told me he looks forward to these. And that made me smile.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
5.23.2007: Teacher
The Guy is sitting in a school desk -- the old fashioned kind.
The stage is otherwise empty and quiet.
Today is his last day as a high school theatre teacher. Tomorrow, a new phase of his life begins, one without lesson plans, lectures, tardiness, rehearsal journals, doctor’s excuses, and early morning laziness. He will miss scolding kids for not being off-book, pushing them to be better, building sets, designing posters, blocking shows, running light boards, staging curtain calls, watching students learn, watching them grow, evolve, mature, create…
… especially that. He will miss that most of all. Watching them create. Not just a role, not just a show. But a life. An identity. Watching them create themselves.
The Guy will miss this part of his life. It has been so rich and so abundant, that he wonders who he would be today without this job, without these students, without this single experience. He is sure he’d be less than he is today.
There should be lines. But to find the words to express what these four years have meant to him is a Herculean task that can never be accomplished in a short play like this.
So only this will have to suffice:
Thank you.
A school bell rings. The lights go out.
The stage is otherwise empty and quiet.
Today is his last day as a high school theatre teacher. Tomorrow, a new phase of his life begins, one without lesson plans, lectures, tardiness, rehearsal journals, doctor’s excuses, and early morning laziness. He will miss scolding kids for not being off-book, pushing them to be better, building sets, designing posters, blocking shows, running light boards, staging curtain calls, watching students learn, watching them grow, evolve, mature, create…
… especially that. He will miss that most of all. Watching them create. Not just a role, not just a show. But a life. An identity. Watching them create themselves.
The Guy will miss this part of his life. It has been so rich and so abundant, that he wonders who he would be today without this job, without these students, without this single experience. He is sure he’d be less than he is today.
There should be lines. But to find the words to express what these four years have meant to him is a Herculean task that can never be accomplished in a short play like this.
So only this will have to suffice:
Thank you.
A school bell rings. The lights go out.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
5.22.2007: The Morning Play (Kafka Fantasia No. 2)
The Husband and Wife. Kafka, to the side, with his typewriter.
KAFKA
“As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect…”
THE HUSBAND
This morning, I woke up…
THE WIFE
Terrifying…
THE HUSBAND
I turn to my wife lying in bed beside me…
THE WIFE
Utterly terrifying…
THE HUSBAND
And I wrap an arm around her and pull in close, you know, like to kiss her on the back of the neck…
THE WIFE
Like something from a horror movie…
THE HUSBAND
Well, she turns to face me, opens her eyes, and lets out this scream…
THE WIFE
I screamed, what else could I do?
THE HUSBAND
This bloodcurdling scream and bolts right out of the room.
THE WIFE
There was a gigantic insect. In my bed. Wearing my husband’s pajamas.
KAFKA
Metamorphosis. Dictionary definition. “A profound change in form from one stage to the next in the life history of an organism.”
THE HUSBAND
The scary thing was…
KAFKA
Metamorphosis isn’t just change.
THE HUSBAND
The scary thing was not that she ran screaming from me.
KAFKA
It’s change forward. Into something new.
THE HUSBAND
The scary thing was that for the second our eyes met, she didn’t recognize me at all.
KAFKA
Shed the old. Inhabit the new. That is metamorphosis.
THE WIFE
To see a gigantic insect in your bed wearing your husband’s pajamas unsettles you.
What frightened me most was not that I was being held by a gigantic insect.
It was that it had my husband’s eyes.
KAFKA
I thought about making him a spider.
THE WIFE
Well, the thing had like a thousand eyes, but I could see my husband reflected.
KAFKA
Or a praying mantis…
THE WIFE
I haven’t gone back into the bedroom to check if it’s still there.
THE HUSBAND
She’s been locked in the bathroom all morning.
THE WIFE
I wonder if it’s eating the linens.
THE HUSBAND
I wonder what she’s thinking.
THE WIFE
Or the curtains…
THE HUSBAND
I looked in the mirror. I don’t know what frightened her. I look exactly like myself.
There’s a moment of stillness between the three of them.
KAFKA
I settled on insect. I don’t know why. I liked the sound of it, I guess.
The lights go out.
KAFKA
“As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect…”
THE HUSBAND
This morning, I woke up…
THE WIFE
Terrifying…
THE HUSBAND
I turn to my wife lying in bed beside me…
THE WIFE
Utterly terrifying…
THE HUSBAND
And I wrap an arm around her and pull in close, you know, like to kiss her on the back of the neck…
THE WIFE
Like something from a horror movie…
THE HUSBAND
Well, she turns to face me, opens her eyes, and lets out this scream…
THE WIFE
I screamed, what else could I do?
THE HUSBAND
This bloodcurdling scream and bolts right out of the room.
THE WIFE
There was a gigantic insect. In my bed. Wearing my husband’s pajamas.
KAFKA
Metamorphosis. Dictionary definition. “A profound change in form from one stage to the next in the life history of an organism.”
THE HUSBAND
The scary thing was…
KAFKA
Metamorphosis isn’t just change.
THE HUSBAND
The scary thing was not that she ran screaming from me.
KAFKA
It’s change forward. Into something new.
THE HUSBAND
The scary thing was that for the second our eyes met, she didn’t recognize me at all.
KAFKA
Shed the old. Inhabit the new. That is metamorphosis.
THE WIFE
To see a gigantic insect in your bed wearing your husband’s pajamas unsettles you.
What frightened me most was not that I was being held by a gigantic insect.
It was that it had my husband’s eyes.
KAFKA
I thought about making him a spider.
THE WIFE
Well, the thing had like a thousand eyes, but I could see my husband reflected.
KAFKA
Or a praying mantis…
THE WIFE
I haven’t gone back into the bedroom to check if it’s still there.
THE HUSBAND
She’s been locked in the bathroom all morning.
THE WIFE
I wonder if it’s eating the linens.
THE HUSBAND
I wonder what she’s thinking.
THE WIFE
Or the curtains…
THE HUSBAND
I looked in the mirror. I don’t know what frightened her. I look exactly like myself.
There’s a moment of stillness between the three of them.
KAFKA
I settled on insect. I don’t know why. I liked the sound of it, I guess.
The lights go out.
Monday, May 21, 2007
5.21.2007: Have My Pancakes (and Eat Them, Too)
The Guy and the Uncertain Future.
THE GUY
Uh oh.
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
What?
THE GUY
You’re here.
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
Yes. I am.
THE GUY
That’s never a good sign.
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
I resent that.
THE GUY
It’s not that I don’t appreciate you…
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
Of course.
THE GUY
…. it’s just the only time you ever show us is when something is hanging in the balance.
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
When you don’t know what the hell is going on.
THE GUY
Exactly. And that’s never comforting.
A pause.
THE GUY (cont.)
So why are you here?
Nate appears, eating some chocolate chip and peanut butter chip pancakes.
NATE
These pancakes are really good.
THE GUY
Why’s he here? I’m not uncertain about him. He shouldn’t be here.
UNCERTIAN FUTURE
Hold on. We’re not finished.
An Important Thinker on the Question of Theatre appears. And he has a letter in his hand.
IMPORTANT THINKER ON THE QUESTION OF THEATRE
A letter! From Juilliard!
THE GUY
Oh shit.
IMPORTANT THINKER ON THE QUESTION OF THEATRE
To be opened on June 15!
THE GUY
That’s weeks from now.
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
I know.
NATE
Seriously these pancakes are really good.
IMPORTANT THINKER ON THE QUESTION OF THEATRE
If we like you, we’re inviting you to join us!
NATE
You sure you don’t want some?
IMPORTANT THINKER ON THE QUESTION OF THEATRE
If we don’t, you’ll never have a chance at us again.
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
That’s it.
THE GUY
What?
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
That’s why I’m here. Because a fork is about to appear in the road. Not today. But soon. You get to stand at the intersection of two great things and hold them both in your hand at once. But one of them gets left behind while you chase the other one into the sunset.
THE GUY
You suck.
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
Sorry. That’s just how it goes.
THE GUY
I like them both.
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
I know.
THE GUY
Juilliard says yes…
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
You leave Nate here before you thought you’d have to.
THE GUY
And that will suck. Juilliard says no…
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
You stay, but your dream is crushed.
THE GUY
And that will suck.
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
But there’s a lot of good in either one.
THE GUY
Oh yeah. I know. Lots of good. In either place.
Pause. A moment of consideration. Then, to the Uncertain Future.
THE GUY (cont.)
You can go now.
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
Excuse me?
THE GUY
You can go.
I don’t really need you.
Because I’m tired of being held back by uncertainty.
Uncertainty got me here in the first place.
And I would rather believe in a world where I can have both things.
If I work at it hard enough
And do what needs to be done
And trust that inevitable ends aren’t always disappointments.
I can have my pancakes and eat them, too.
He goes to Nate.
THE GUY (cont.)
Can I have a bite?
NATE
Sure.
THE GUY
And you. Hold on to that letter. Let me know when it’s time.
Everything that’s wantable is achieveable.
The Important Thinker on the Question of Theatre holds on to the letter. The Guy and Nate eat pancakes. The Uncertain Future watches on.
THE GUY
Uh oh.
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
What?
THE GUY
You’re here.
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
Yes. I am.
THE GUY
That’s never a good sign.
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
I resent that.
THE GUY
It’s not that I don’t appreciate you…
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
Of course.
THE GUY
…. it’s just the only time you ever show us is when something is hanging in the balance.
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
When you don’t know what the hell is going on.
THE GUY
Exactly. And that’s never comforting.
A pause.
THE GUY (cont.)
So why are you here?
Nate appears, eating some chocolate chip and peanut butter chip pancakes.
NATE
These pancakes are really good.
THE GUY
Why’s he here? I’m not uncertain about him. He shouldn’t be here.
UNCERTIAN FUTURE
Hold on. We’re not finished.
An Important Thinker on the Question of Theatre appears. And he has a letter in his hand.
IMPORTANT THINKER ON THE QUESTION OF THEATRE
A letter! From Juilliard!
THE GUY
Oh shit.
IMPORTANT THINKER ON THE QUESTION OF THEATRE
To be opened on June 15!
THE GUY
That’s weeks from now.
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
I know.
NATE
Seriously these pancakes are really good.
IMPORTANT THINKER ON THE QUESTION OF THEATRE
If we like you, we’re inviting you to join us!
NATE
You sure you don’t want some?
IMPORTANT THINKER ON THE QUESTION OF THEATRE
If we don’t, you’ll never have a chance at us again.
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
That’s it.
THE GUY
What?
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
That’s why I’m here. Because a fork is about to appear in the road. Not today. But soon. You get to stand at the intersection of two great things and hold them both in your hand at once. But one of them gets left behind while you chase the other one into the sunset.
THE GUY
You suck.
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
Sorry. That’s just how it goes.
THE GUY
I like them both.
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
I know.
THE GUY
Juilliard says yes…
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
You leave Nate here before you thought you’d have to.
THE GUY
And that will suck. Juilliard says no…
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
You stay, but your dream is crushed.
THE GUY
And that will suck.
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
But there’s a lot of good in either one.
THE GUY
Oh yeah. I know. Lots of good. In either place.
Pause. A moment of consideration. Then, to the Uncertain Future.
THE GUY (cont.)
You can go now.
UNCERTAIN FUTURE
Excuse me?
THE GUY
You can go.
I don’t really need you.
Because I’m tired of being held back by uncertainty.
Uncertainty got me here in the first place.
And I would rather believe in a world where I can have both things.
If I work at it hard enough
And do what needs to be done
And trust that inevitable ends aren’t always disappointments.
I can have my pancakes and eat them, too.
He goes to Nate.
THE GUY (cont.)
Can I have a bite?
NATE
Sure.
THE GUY
And you. Hold on to that letter. Let me know when it’s time.
Everything that’s wantable is achieveable.
The Important Thinker on the Question of Theatre holds on to the letter. The Guy and Nate eat pancakes. The Uncertain Future watches on.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
5.20.2007: 31/27 (Your Birthday is My Birthday, Too)
The Guy and The Brother. A birthday cake.
THE GUY
Happy birthday!
THE BROTHER
Happy birthday!
THE GUY
You’re old.
THE BROTHER
Not as old as you.
THE GUY
True. 31.
THE BROTHER
27.
THE GUY
And the years march on…
THE BROTHER
All over your fucking midsection.
THE GUY
God, ain’t that the truth.
THE BROTHER
Another year begins.
THE GUY
Yes it does.
THE BROTHER
I have a good feeling about this one.
THE GUY
Me, too. I like the way it started.
THE BROTHER
I’m sure you did. Manwhore.
THE GUY
Shut up.
THE BROTHER
Truth hurts.
THE GUY
You know, I’m glad we were born on the same day.
THE BROTHER
Really? Because at first…
THE GUY
Well, yeah, at first I hated your guts.
THE BROTHER
See…
THE GUY
But now… I’m glad this day is yours as well.
THE BROTHER
Me, too.
THE GUY
You know, the best thing about sharing my birthday with you is that I never feel like I’m in the world alone. A new year starts, and no matter where I am, and no matter where you are, we always start it together.
I like that.
THE BROTHER
Me, too.
THE GUY
So we should really blow these candles out.
THE BROTHER
How many are there?
THE GUY
Not the actual number we’d need for both of our birthdays.
THE BROTHER
We’d be a fire hazard.
THE GUY
I know.
THE BROTHER
31/27.
THE GUY
What are you gonna wish for?
THE BROTHER
I can’t tell you.
THE GUY
Stupid tradition.
THE BROTHER
Cynic.
THE GUY
Bitch.
THE BROTHER
I love you.
THE GUY
Love you, too.
They blow the candles out. And with them, so go the lights.
THE GUY
Happy birthday!
THE BROTHER
Happy birthday!
THE GUY
You’re old.
THE BROTHER
Not as old as you.
THE GUY
True. 31.
THE BROTHER
27.
THE GUY
And the years march on…
THE BROTHER
All over your fucking midsection.
THE GUY
God, ain’t that the truth.
THE BROTHER
Another year begins.
THE GUY
Yes it does.
THE BROTHER
I have a good feeling about this one.
THE GUY
Me, too. I like the way it started.
THE BROTHER
I’m sure you did. Manwhore.
THE GUY
Shut up.
THE BROTHER
Truth hurts.
THE GUY
You know, I’m glad we were born on the same day.
THE BROTHER
Really? Because at first…
THE GUY
Well, yeah, at first I hated your guts.
THE BROTHER
See…
THE GUY
But now… I’m glad this day is yours as well.
THE BROTHER
Me, too.
THE GUY
You know, the best thing about sharing my birthday with you is that I never feel like I’m in the world alone. A new year starts, and no matter where I am, and no matter where you are, we always start it together.
I like that.
THE BROTHER
Me, too.
THE GUY
So we should really blow these candles out.
THE BROTHER
How many are there?
THE GUY
Not the actual number we’d need for both of our birthdays.
THE BROTHER
We’d be a fire hazard.
THE GUY
I know.
THE BROTHER
31/27.
THE GUY
What are you gonna wish for?
THE BROTHER
I can’t tell you.
THE GUY
Stupid tradition.
THE BROTHER
Cynic.
THE GUY
Bitch.
THE BROTHER
I love you.
THE GUY
Love you, too.
They blow the candles out. And with them, so go the lights.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
5.19.2007: The Place You End and I Begin
The Guy and Nate. The lines happen as if one long uninterrupted sentence.
THE GUY
Something happens when two people…
NATE
… connect. You can’t really tell…
THE GUY
… where one begins…
NATE
…and the other ends…
THE GUY
… You just know that these people…
NATE
… for this moment that they’re together…
THE GUY
… are really just occupying the same space…
NATE
… and the distinctions…
THE GUY
…evaporate…
NATE
… and the boundaries…
THE GUY
… blur…
NATE
… and happiness…
THE GUY
… happiness…
NATE
… feels inevitable.
A breath.
The Guy whispers the following to Nate.
THE GUY
I knew from the second you came through my door hours before you were expected that I was going to have a terrific time with you. Because the second I saw you, I felt myself relax. I didn’t wanna impress you or ask you how you felt or discuss the current state of our relationship (because I tend to do that sometimes, with guys I like, I tend to cloud things over with too much noise instead of just letting it be) ---
I just wanted to walk over to you, kiss you, give you a hug, and enjoy you being next to me.
If you don’t mind, I kinda wanna keep that up.
Nate smiles. Nate grabs the Guy’s waist and pulls him close. The Guy leans against Nate.
For a second, it’s impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins.
THE GUY
Something happens when two people…
NATE
… connect. You can’t really tell…
THE GUY
… where one begins…
NATE
…and the other ends…
THE GUY
… You just know that these people…
NATE
… for this moment that they’re together…
THE GUY
… are really just occupying the same space…
NATE
… and the distinctions…
THE GUY
…evaporate…
NATE
… and the boundaries…
THE GUY
… blur…
NATE
… and happiness…
THE GUY
… happiness…
NATE
… feels inevitable.
A breath.
The Guy whispers the following to Nate.
THE GUY
I knew from the second you came through my door hours before you were expected that I was going to have a terrific time with you. Because the second I saw you, I felt myself relax. I didn’t wanna impress you or ask you how you felt or discuss the current state of our relationship (because I tend to do that sometimes, with guys I like, I tend to cloud things over with too much noise instead of just letting it be) ---
I just wanted to walk over to you, kiss you, give you a hug, and enjoy you being next to me.
If you don’t mind, I kinda wanna keep that up.
Nate smiles. Nate grabs the Guy’s waist and pulls him close. The Guy leans against Nate.
For a second, it’s impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins.
Friday, May 18, 2007
5.18.2007: Second Skin
The Guy and The One Before. Dinner at a restaurant. Beer, burgers.
They have not seen each other in about a month. They’ve talked on the phone, yes, but tonight is the first time they’ve actually been in the same place.
THE GUY
So Nate’s coming down to see me tomorrow.
THE ONE BEFORE
Cool.
THE GUY
Yeah, I think he’s staying until Monday. It’ll be good to see him.
THE ONE BEFORE
Rich called me.
THE GUY
Finally.
THE ONE BEFORE
I know. He said he was busy with work, so I’m not gonna be too mad he hadn’t been in touch.
THE GUY
What about that other one? Chris?
THE ONE BEFORE
Craig. No I talk to him every day. He works a lot though. Just like you. But I still wanna go out on a date with him.
THE GUY
Good for you. Go for it.
They continue like this as a stage direction unfolds. An unstageable one that notices something the untrained eye could not see.
As they talk, these two are shedding their skins. Slowly, in very small increments, pieces of their old skins are being peeled away, the skins that kept them together for six years.
These old skins are shed because they are no longer needed. There is no going back to the people they were. And as they talk, they notice for the first time that they are both now better off than they were before – happier.
THE GUY (cont.)
I missed you.
THE ONE BEFORE
I know. Me, too.
THE GUY
But you know… and I don’t want you to take this the wrong way or anything… but I’m not sad about it. Not like the first time. I miss you, you know, but I’m not sad anymore.
THE ONE BEFORE
I know what you mean.
We never really notice when we get our second skins. But one day, they’re there. And the thing we thought we’d never get over is suddenly… over.
THE GUY
Our waiter is cute.
THE ONE BEFORE
I know.
THE GUY
I dare you to leave him your number.
THE ONE BEFORE
I will.
THE GUY
No you won’t.
The One Before picks up the check and leaves his number on the bottom.
THE GUY
Oh my God. Who have you turned into?
THE ONE BEFORE
I have no idea.
They laugh.
Some skins are built to last forever. Most are built to be shed. And while they both believed their old skins would last forever, they are discovering that the ones beneath it are more beautiful than the ones before.
It is a reassuring lesson to learn.
The lights go down.
They have not seen each other in about a month. They’ve talked on the phone, yes, but tonight is the first time they’ve actually been in the same place.
THE GUY
So Nate’s coming down to see me tomorrow.
THE ONE BEFORE
Cool.
THE GUY
Yeah, I think he’s staying until Monday. It’ll be good to see him.
THE ONE BEFORE
Rich called me.
THE GUY
Finally.
THE ONE BEFORE
I know. He said he was busy with work, so I’m not gonna be too mad he hadn’t been in touch.
THE GUY
What about that other one? Chris?
THE ONE BEFORE
Craig. No I talk to him every day. He works a lot though. Just like you. But I still wanna go out on a date with him.
THE GUY
Good for you. Go for it.
They continue like this as a stage direction unfolds. An unstageable one that notices something the untrained eye could not see.
As they talk, these two are shedding their skins. Slowly, in very small increments, pieces of their old skins are being peeled away, the skins that kept them together for six years.
These old skins are shed because they are no longer needed. There is no going back to the people they were. And as they talk, they notice for the first time that they are both now better off than they were before – happier.
THE GUY (cont.)
I missed you.
THE ONE BEFORE
I know. Me, too.
THE GUY
But you know… and I don’t want you to take this the wrong way or anything… but I’m not sad about it. Not like the first time. I miss you, you know, but I’m not sad anymore.
THE ONE BEFORE
I know what you mean.
We never really notice when we get our second skins. But one day, they’re there. And the thing we thought we’d never get over is suddenly… over.
THE GUY
Our waiter is cute.
THE ONE BEFORE
I know.
THE GUY
I dare you to leave him your number.
THE ONE BEFORE
I will.
THE GUY
No you won’t.
The One Before picks up the check and leaves his number on the bottom.
THE GUY
Oh my God. Who have you turned into?
THE ONE BEFORE
I have no idea.
They laugh.
Some skins are built to last forever. Most are built to be shed. And while they both believed their old skins would last forever, they are discovering that the ones beneath it are more beautiful than the ones before.
It is a reassuring lesson to learn.
The lights go down.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
5.17.2007: Simple (How Much It Takes to Change a Day)
The Guy is here, his cell phone in hand.
He flips it open, and we watch him send a text message.
He closes his phone.
A moment or two passes.
His phone rings.
He checks who it is. He smiles. He raises a finger to the audience as if to say “Hold on a minute, ok?” and answers.
THE GUY
Hey, what’s up?
He walks off to take this call.
The phone call isn’t a promise. It portends nothing. It is merely a nice, simple little moment. But the day changes, enough to get mentioned in here.
He’s a good fella, Nate is. Glad he’s around.
The lights go down.
He flips it open, and we watch him send a text message.
He closes his phone.
A moment or two passes.
His phone rings.
He checks who it is. He smiles. He raises a finger to the audience as if to say “Hold on a minute, ok?” and answers.
THE GUY
Hey, what’s up?
He walks off to take this call.
The phone call isn’t a promise. It portends nothing. It is merely a nice, simple little moment. But the day changes, enough to get mentioned in here.
He’s a good fella, Nate is. Glad he’s around.
The lights go down.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
5.16.2007: Another Narcissus (People are Mysteries)
“There is an older version than the one related by Ovid in his Metamorphoses, in which the proud and unfeeling Narcissus is punished by the gods for having spurned all his male suitors. In this story, Ameinias, a young man, loved Narcissus but was scorned. To tell Ameinias off, Narcissus gave him a sword as a present. Ameinias used the sword to kill himself on Narcissus' doorstep and prayed to Nemesis that Narcissus would one day know the pain of unrequited love. This curse was fulfilled when Narcissus became entranced by his reflection in the pool and tried to seduce the beautiful boy, not realizing it was himself he was looking at.”
- Wikipedia entry
Narcissus, gazing at his reflection in a mirror. Ameinias watches at a distance.
Narcissus speaks to his reflection.
NARCISSUS
I love you.
AMEINIAS
You should have loved me.
NARCISSUS
Don’t be shy. You can say it back to me. I can see the love there in your eyes.
AMEINIAS
This is your punishment for not loving what you should.
NARCISSUS
I see so much of myself in you. Seriously, I look at you, and there’s this shock of recognition. We are perfect for each other.
AMEINIAS
Until you die you will only love the thing you can never have.
NARCISSUS
You’re so coy. I can see you looking at me, gazing at me with those eyes that beg for something more, and yet you always stay so far away from me. Always at a distance.
AMEINIAS
There’s no real satisfaction in watching you fall for yourself.
NARCISSUS
Just one kiss…
AMEINIAS
But it’s better than nothing.
NARCISSUS
I wonder what my hand would feel like on your cheek.
AMEINIAS
It’s hard to love something that doesn’t seem to love you back.
Like throwing yourself against a wall
hoping the wall might give against your weight
but discovering that the wall knows itself better than you do.
People are such mysteries.
What goes on inside them.
We need windows, not mirrors.
We need open windows on all sides of ourselves
so there is never a doubt
and never a question
and no love will be given without the knowledge it will be returned.
To Ameinias, for the first time, but not leaving his reflection.
NARCISSUS
I never said I didn’t love you.
This startles Ameinias.
AMEINIAS
Are you speaking to me?
NARCISSUS
Of course.
AMEINIAS
How much have you heard?
NARCISSUS
Everything. And I never said I didn’t love you.
AMEINIAS
But you never gave me any indication you did.
NARCISSUS
Yes, I did.
Just not the indications you wanted.
I think you wanted the rush of love,
the love from myths,
but love isn’t ever really like that.
Not the kind that survives anyway.
AMEINIAS
Oh.
NARCISSUS
Doesn’t matter anymore. I found someone who understands my kind of love.
At least I think I have.
Feels like the other half of me, you know?
That kind of connection…
Narcissus goes back to his reflection. Ameinias looks on.
AMEINIAS
And I love you again.
But you still don’t love me.
Love is a punishment from the Gods.
NARCISSUS
I love the way your mouth moves when you speak when you speak when you speak…
Narcissus watches the way his mouth moves as he says “when you speak” as the lights fade away.
- Wikipedia entry
Narcissus, gazing at his reflection in a mirror. Ameinias watches at a distance.
Narcissus speaks to his reflection.
NARCISSUS
I love you.
AMEINIAS
You should have loved me.
NARCISSUS
Don’t be shy. You can say it back to me. I can see the love there in your eyes.
AMEINIAS
This is your punishment for not loving what you should.
NARCISSUS
I see so much of myself in you. Seriously, I look at you, and there’s this shock of recognition. We are perfect for each other.
AMEINIAS
Until you die you will only love the thing you can never have.
NARCISSUS
You’re so coy. I can see you looking at me, gazing at me with those eyes that beg for something more, and yet you always stay so far away from me. Always at a distance.
AMEINIAS
There’s no real satisfaction in watching you fall for yourself.
NARCISSUS
Just one kiss…
AMEINIAS
But it’s better than nothing.
NARCISSUS
I wonder what my hand would feel like on your cheek.
AMEINIAS
It’s hard to love something that doesn’t seem to love you back.
Like throwing yourself against a wall
hoping the wall might give against your weight
but discovering that the wall knows itself better than you do.
People are such mysteries.
What goes on inside them.
We need windows, not mirrors.
We need open windows on all sides of ourselves
so there is never a doubt
and never a question
and no love will be given without the knowledge it will be returned.
To Ameinias, for the first time, but not leaving his reflection.
NARCISSUS
I never said I didn’t love you.
This startles Ameinias.
AMEINIAS
Are you speaking to me?
NARCISSUS
Of course.
AMEINIAS
How much have you heard?
NARCISSUS
Everything. And I never said I didn’t love you.
AMEINIAS
But you never gave me any indication you did.
NARCISSUS
Yes, I did.
Just not the indications you wanted.
I think you wanted the rush of love,
the love from myths,
but love isn’t ever really like that.
Not the kind that survives anyway.
AMEINIAS
Oh.
NARCISSUS
Doesn’t matter anymore. I found someone who understands my kind of love.
At least I think I have.
Feels like the other half of me, you know?
That kind of connection…
Narcissus goes back to his reflection. Ameinias looks on.
AMEINIAS
And I love you again.
But you still don’t love me.
Love is a punishment from the Gods.
NARCISSUS
I love the way your mouth moves when you speak when you speak when you speak…
Narcissus watches the way his mouth moves as he says “when you speak” as the lights fade away.
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