A Song - By Vangelis

A poem by Vangelis, from his track "A Song" from the LP "Earth" (1973), a definite precursor to the last track from Blade Runner, a lovely thing, transcribed by me, from me to you, whoever you are.

A SONG
------

I would like to write a song
that is so vibrant
and is so intimate
that the earth would adopt it,
as if it had sprung
like a stream
from the the land's memory,
as if no one had written it
but life itself.

And my song would travel along
from bird
to wing
to tree
to breeze
to heart
to breath
to song

'cause a song belongs to everyone
like the Spring.

Bye Bye Betty

Light on MAN 1 and MAN 2 sitting at a table at center. Both men are middle aged. A closed book sits on the table in front of Man 1.

MAN 1
Columbine.

MAN 2
École Polytechnique, Montreal Canada, December 6th, 1989.

MAN 1
Texas. That sniper.

MAN 2
You’re referring, I think, to the University of Texas, August 1st, 1966.

MAN 1
That’s the one. The guy with the buzz cut, from the tower.

MAN 2
Virginia Tech, April 16th, 2007. I win.

MAN 1
Okay.

(He picks up the book.)

MAN 2
Another. Serial killers. Once again, restricted to North America, please, and in increasing order by number of victims.

MAN 1
(puts down book)
Go.

MAN 2
Dennis Rader, the BTK killer.

MAN 1
The Hillside Strangler.

MAN 2
Stranglers, actually. But very good. Let’s see...Richard
Ramirez, the Night Stalker.

MAN 1
The Boston Strangler?

MAN 2
Same number as Ramirez. Try again.

MAN 1
How about Jeffrey Dahmer?

MAN 2
Mm-hm. John Wayne Gacy. The Killer Clown.

MAN 1
Ted Bundy.

MAN 2
Gary Ridgway, The Green River Killer. I win.

MAN 1
You win. I guess.

MAN 2
What does that mean, “I guess”?

MAN 1
I’m guessing that you know more than I do about serial killers.

MAN 2
Well, now that you bring it up, Ted Bundy claimed to kill more than a hundred, much more than Gary Ridgway or any other American serial killer. But this has not been proven. Ridgway, on the other hand, confessed to seventy one, is suspected of around ninety, and was convicted of forty eight, the most in U.S. history. Now Bundy, he was convicted of thirty five, so really I should have clarified this as a “most proven victims” contest. Want a restart?

MAN 1
I’ll give it to you. You win.

MAN 2
I always win.

MAN 1
(picks up book)
You do, don’t you.

MAN 2
You need to try harder.

MAN 1
(reading)
Hmm?

MAN 2
I said you need to try harder.

MAN 1
No matter how hard I try, you’ll always know a grislier school shooting or a more prolific serial killer.

MAN 2
I guess you’re right.

MAN 1
And why is that?

MAN 2
What?

MAN 1
Why is it that you know so much about these things?

MAN 2
Well it’s simple: whenever I need a little dose of reality, whenever I feel I’m getting a little out of touch, you know, a little soft, I read about them. I look at videos on YouTube. War footage, snipers in action, roadside bombings, F1 racecar crashes of the sixties and seventies, Columbine security camera tapes--they have a lot of this. And it helps. It works, immediately.

MAN 1
Why didn’t you join the military?

MAN 2
What for? To get myself killed?

MAN 1
You seem to like killing.

MAN 2
Listen to me, I have never killed a living breathing thing in my entire life.

MAN 1
That’s surprising.

MAN 2
Can you say the same?

MAN 1
Well, no actually. I admit to killing a bird.

MAN 2
A bird? That’s it?

MAN 1
That one bird has bothered me for almost thirty years now.

MAN 2
Tell me about it.

MAN 1
No, I’d rather not.

MAN 2
Go ahead.

MAN 1
No.

MAN 2
Come on, talking about it will help. How else, after almost thirty years of being bothered by it, as you say, will you be able to finally forgive yourself and move on?

MAN 1
Okay, all right.

MAN 2
Take a deep breath.

(Man 1 takes a deep breath.)

MAN 2
Take your time now. Don’t rush, just let the memories come back to you, let the bird fly back, think back, take a deep breath, and tell me all about what happened.

MAN 1
(takes another deep breath)
First we tried to take down a squirrel--“we” being me and my best friend at the time, Eric.

MAN 2
Do I know him?

MAN 1
I don’t think so. May I continue?

MAN 2
Please.

MAN 1
This proved unsuccessful. We were in my backyard, and we were using my dad’s pellet rifle. I don’t know where my parents were--working probably. The funny thing was, Eric held the stock, while I held the barrel and aimed. And we were right under the thing, maybe seven or eight feet away. It sat up on a wire right above us, and we hit it about ten times, right in the butt. It didn’t move. It didn’t even flinch. I pumped and pumped the gun, we hit it in the butt over and over again, the thing didn’t move, and finally we gave up. We went around the yard looking for something else to shoot at. We spotted the bird, a little brown bird up on another wire, and we crouched down under it, just like we did with the squirrel, Eric holding the stock, me holding the barrel, Eric pulled the trigger, and that shot, the first one, it hit the bird right in the head. We watched it sit on the wire for a few seconds, suspended, frozen, and then it keeled over and dropped into a bush. I remember it up on that wire after we hit it, it’s little eyes closed, never to open again, and I remember how my heart sank. We dropped the gun in the grass. I felt sick. We promised each other we’d never shoot at anything ever again. We’d had enough. The next day I went back to the spot to see if it was still there. I was thinking of burying it. But it was gone. Maybe an animal got it or something. Or maybe my neighbor or one of my parents found it. Maybe they buried it. I’ll never know.

MAN 2
Wow.

MAN 1
You know, talking about it has made me feel a lot better.

MAN 2
Did you ever have an imaginary friend when you were little?

MAN 1
Actually, yes I did.

MAN 2
So did my little sister. Her imaginary friend was named Betty.

MAN 1
Betty.

MAN 2
That’s right. This was her second imaginary friend. The first was Jenna. She moved away. Then Betty showed up. Her and my sister were best friends. They did everything together. They played board games together, they watched movies together, they ran around the yard together, they made imaginary meals together, they ran an imaginary grocery store, an imaginary beauty salon, imaginary lemonade stands, real lemonade stands, Kool-Aid, cookies, cupcakes--you name it. My little sister had a very vivid and active imagination. And so did Betty, supposedly. And so did I at her age--but I never had an imaginary friend. That’s where I drew the line, I guess. I’d have lots of imaginary wars, gun battles, grenades, bazookas--but no imaginary friends.

MAN 1
Mine was named Kermit.

MAN 2
The idea bothered me. Betty bothered me. She was always around, she had her own chair at the kitchen table, and from the way my sister chatted with her all the time, she was very bratty, precocious, and she hated my guts.

MAN 1
Were you mean to her?

MAN 2
I tried to ignore her. Maybe that’s why she hated me so much.

MAN 1
What makes you bring this up, by the way?

MAN 2
I think I saw her recently.

MAN 1
Betty?

MAN 2
In the Salvation Army store. I was browsing the book section, and there she was--

MAN 1
Did she come out of a book?

MAN 2
This isn’t funny. She was about ten feet away, looking at furniture.

MAN 1
Do imaginary friends need things like a couch?

MAN 2
Evidently, yes. She seemed to be interested in a media center.

MAN 1
Now that is absurd.

MAN 2
There’s nothing absurd about it. I stood there staring at her for about fifteen minutes.

MAN 1
And she didn’t notice you staring at her?

MAN 2
I pretended to be reading “The Red Badge of Courage,” but I kept an eye on her.

MAN 1
That’s a pretty good book. Did you buy it?

MAN 2
I thought maybe I was hallucinating.

MAN 1
You probably were.

MAN 2
I’m in perfect health.

MAN 1
Maybe it’s your job. You’re probably just a little stressed out.

MAN 2
I’m perfectly unstressed, my job is perfectly unstressful, and not a single person in my family has ever had a history of hallucinations or any other kind of mental disturbance.

MAN 1
Maybe you ate something funky. Mold can cause hallucinations.

MAN 2
I tell you I saw her!

MAN 1
Okay, you saw her. But how did you know it was her? How did you know what she looks like?

MAN 2
I had a feeling. A very strong feeling.

MAN 1
That it was Betty. Checking out a media center in a Salvation Army.

MAN 2
That it was none other than Betty.

(He stands up, paces around slowly.)

MAN 2
And that’s strange, because I thought I strangled her to death a long time ago.

(Man 1 watches him, unsure what to say.)

MAN 2
Maybe I didn’t kill her. Maybe she survived.

MAN 1
Maybe you should let it go. Your sister--

MAN 2
My sister never recovered. She had another imaginary friend for a bit--I can’t remember her name--but it wasn’t the same. My sister was never the same.

MAN 1
I’m sure she’s forgiven you by now.

MAN 2
I don’t know. I don’t think so.

MAN 1
Betty--she’s probably forgiven you.

MAN 2
I should have tried talking to her. I could have invited her over.

MAN 1
It’s done. Don’t dwell on it. She probably has her own life, different friends, you have your own life, an unstressful job...

MAN 2
I could have apologized.

MAN 1
You told me about it--doesn’t that make you feel a little better?

MAN 2
Worse.

MAN 1
I think it's time you said "bye" to Betty. Just try to let her go.

MAN 2
(sits down)
I’ll try. At least she’s alive.

MAN 1
That’s right. Betty is alive and well, no reason to worry, no reason to feel guilty.

MAN 2
I should call my sister.

MAN 1
Later, after you calm down a little. And I’m sure it will help your state of mind if you stop thinking about death and killing and stuff. So no more serial killers for a while, okay?

MAN 2
Sure.

MAN 1
No more YouTube. Try...try thinking about something nice, like rainbows.

MAN 2
Rainbows.

MAN 1
A distant rainbow after a summer shower. Something nice, in increasing niceness. Go.

MAN 2
(Pause)
Babies.

MAN 1
Puppies.

(Lights start to fade.)

MAN 2
Valentine’s Day.

MAN 1
Christmas.

MAN 2
New Year’s Eve.

MAN 2
Winning the lottery.

MAN 1
Falling in love.

(Lights out.)


(END OF PLAY)

Henri's new haircut

Billy Jack vs. Dolemite--Who Wins?

The two toughest movie heroes meet on a dark, dirty, crime-infested city street. This street can only hold one deliverer of hope and justice, and a battle to the death ensues--Who Will Win this War will be determined by 4 skill sets: Hand-to-hand combat; Weapons skills; Shit-talking/threat deliverance; Luck/Magic/Outside help.


HAND-TO-HAND COMBAT:
DOLEMITE
Dolemite seems to know karate and uses crude yet powerful hand chops and side kicks to take on three, then two white cop opponents. His strength here lies in sudden outbursts of attack, going from smooth cold hate to flash fire frenzy in less than a heartbeat.

Here are some pics of Dolemite in action:



BILLY JACK
It takes at least ten men to physically take down Billy Jack. He has real karate training, even more real than Dolemite. His karate chops are faster, and his kicks are unrivaled. Like Dolemite, B.J. relies on sudden outbursts of vengeful rage, outbursts that, in the end, are even more deadly than Dolemite's.

Billy Jack at work:




ADVANTAGE: BILLY JACK

WEAPONS SKILLS:
DOLEMITE
Dolemite is a master of high-calibre machine guns. See him and one of his victims:



BILLY JACK
Billy Jack is an ace rifleman and doesn't miss an opportunity to test his abilities. We must assume, I suppose, that he's proficient in many weapon types since he does, after all, have military experience.


ADVANTAGE: DOLEMITE Since we really have no evidence showing Billy Jack with anything other than rifle expertise, Dolemite and his machine gun come out on top.

SHIT-TALKING/THREAT DELIVERANCE:
DOLEMITE
Between the two masters of making threats I think Billy Jack is a somewhat superior deliverer, but when it comes to shit-talking, Dolemite shines. That gives him the advantage here.
Billy Jacks threatens Mr. Stuart Posner and his crew of thugs, then Billy Jack threatens Bernard Posner and Dinosaur, then Billy Jack threatens Bernard again after finding him with a 13 year old:


DOLEMITE
I will let the pictures do the talking here:



ADVANTAGE: DOLEMITE

LUCK/MAGIC/OUTSIDE HELP:
BILLY JACK
It's here that Billy Jack rules supreme. He is part Indian and has undergone many ancient tribal rituals. He carries a holy medicine bag. Also, he has the help of the kids of the Freedom School to aid him, and he has Jean and her love for him.

Some of the kids:

Billy Jack with his medicine bag, long after he has been shot in the stomach.


DOLEMITE
Here Dolemite has Queen Bee's girls, trained in Kung-Fu, to back him up. They are also prostitutes. Or dancers.



ADVANTAGE: BILLY JACK

OVERALL WINNER: BILLY JACK
His magical Indian heritage really puts him over the top. In a modestly fair fight, Billy Jack would beat Dolemite.

Why I think Billy Jack is the greatest movie ever made

So you think Avatar is the greatest movie ever made. No? Something by Luchino Visconti? Slumdog Millionaire? 2001: A Space Odyssey?

I disagree with you. A little movie from 1971 is the greatest movie ever made. This movie is Billy Jack. And here is why this, Billy Jack, is the greatest movie ever made:

1) Tom Laughlin: T.L. wrote and directed Billy Jack but did you know he was also the star in Robert Altman's directorial debut, played Socrates in a 1991 TV movie and Billy Jack in three other inferior movies? Not Chuck Norris--not even Charles Bronson would be right in the role of Billy Jack. Tom Laughlin IS Billy Jack, and he could take Norris and Bronson on at the same time. And I do realize Charles Bronson is dead.

2) The song by the little girl: I almost came to tears when I heard the little girl sing her song. I say almost because like Billy Jack I never cry.

3) Unrealized love of B.J. and Jean Roberts: Have you ever been in love and for whatever reason or circumstance it never comes to fruition? I have. I've been down that road and it hurts. Like getting kicked in the face by Billy Jack.

Now Jean and Billy love each other, but it's sort of on the down low, a beautiful down low thing, left unsaid, and, unfortunately, unacted upon. But this makes it all the more powerful for me. Not until the very end do we hear Jean tell B.J. that she loves him, and even then Billy avoids the exact declaration in return. But Jean knows. And then B.J. goes to jail and the movie is over.

4) I hope I didn't ruin the end for you there. The fourth and last thing that makes Billy Jack so awesome and probably the singlemost greatest movie is Billy Jack's hat. Next Halloween I'm going to be Billy Jack and I'm hoping to find a hat, jean jacket and medicine bag just like his.

Billy Jack can takes thousands of snake bites, mob beat-downs and bullets and not even flinch or change expression. He has lines of dialogue only previously approached by Dolemite. He is kind of like a white Dolemite minus the funky ass bitches and flashy clothes and rhymes. Bad people fear him, the close-minded hate him, and all children, Indians, hippies, and downtrodden minorities everywhere love him. He is their protector. If you are kind, he will die for you. If you suffer injustice, he will kill for you. He is the greatest.

Please see the official website of Billy Jack and read the open letter from Delores Taylor and Tom Laughlin (Jean and B.J.) detailing how they "are setting out to make the most powerful anti-hate film ever made...at the same time one of the most inspirational love stories - actually five love stories in one...by making not only a sequel unlike any sequel ever made, but a feature film unlike any ever made...revealing the root cause and psychological underpinnings of all prejudice and hatred – racial, ethnic, religious, political, gender and sexual orientation also revealing an exciting effective new way to end prejudice and hatred – a tool that each of us can use to discover what unconscious prejudices we have and eliminate them ... combined with fundamental social and political reforms over 80% of Americans want, combined with five magnificent love stories."

This movie will be called "Billy Jack & Jean." Also notice Tom Laughlin's rants on politics and the Academy Awards, his many analyses of Carl Jung, and his plans for a Billy Jack TV series; enter the Billy Jack chatroom; volunteer to help or donate money to the new "Billy Jack & Jean"; send Tom an email; or join forces with Billy Jack and the 5x5 Club to change the world.

UPDATE--See pic below to get the gist of what Tom Laughlin's been like for a long, long time.

Snake

I made this from cardboard, faded construction paper and some homely US general from a Desert Storm Coalition for Peace trading card.

See the latest addition to Wikileaks for a look at other snakes, scoundrels and piles of shit within the US Armed Forces at work (or play?).

Reese's Dark

The upcoming Reese's Light ad tie-in with the NCAA Frozen Four will feature two white guys playing ice hockey.

THE SONG REMAINS THE SAME

A short play about a forgotten song. In reality, I forgot a song, just as described in the play, and decided to make a play out of it. Unlike the play, I never remembered it again. Though it probably sucked anyway.

(Like the other play I posted here, the format is messed up in translation from Word to here, and I do not care.)

THE SONG REMAINS THE SAME

Dave sits at a table in the middle of the room. He is deep in thought, once in a while looking at a notebook on the table.

Erica walks on.

ERICA
(taking off coat)
What a beautiful day! The sun, the air...
(inhales deeply)
It smells funny in here.

DAVE
I came up with a new song today.

ERICA
Oh?

DAVE
Came to me while I was out walking Henri. Then, not long after I got back home, right before I was about to take a nap, I forgot it.

(Erica hangs her coat on one of the chairs at the table.)

DAVE
I had it all in my head--bass line, guitar, synthesizer introduction--everything. And now it’s gone.

(Erica sits down, takes a Tamagotchi out of her pocket.)

ERICA
I found this.

DAVE
I can’t remember the bass line. I can’t remember the key the vocals are supposed to be in. I can’t remember how to phrase the vocals. The only thing I have left are these lyrics.

(He picks up the notebook.)

DAVE
(reading lyrics)
Pain and decay. I see no way to hide. Dissected days. I’ve found no place to find it.

ERICA
Sounds depressing.

DAVE
(reading more lyrics)
Staring at the stars. Looking up but seeing nothing. Trying to look far away. Darkness just reminds you of something.

ERICA
Hm.

DAVE
(reading more lyrics)
While you’re waiting. See you fading. Sit and let it drift away. Can’t think of another thing to say.

(Erica looks at the Tamagotchi.)

DAVE
It’s a love song.

ERICA
Was a love song.

DAVE
Oh, it’ll come back to me.

ERICA
I didn’t know you were a songwriter.

DAVE
Huh? And what about my work with Hot Alfalfa?

ERICA
I just didn’t know you wrote any songs when you were in Hot Alfalfa.

DAVE
Come on, I came up with the name for christ sakes.

ERICA
But did you write any songs?

DAVE
Many.

ERICA
Which ones?

DAVE
Well let’s see...“Strawberry Jam,” “Sitting on a Rain Cloud”...“Let’s All Get High”...Don’t you remember those?

ERICA
I only saw you guys play once.
(puts down Tamagotchi)
I can’t seem to figure this thing out.

DAVE
“Sitting on a Rain Cloud”--that was a great song.

(Erica picks up the Tamagotchi again.)

ERICA
I don’t recall that one.

DAVE
Forget about it.
(pause)
That “thing,” by the way, is called a Tamagotchi.

ERICA
A Tamagotchi. Do you know how a Tamagotchi works?

DAVE
(looking at notebook)
No I do not.

ERICA
What was your new song going to be called?

DAVE
“I’m Just Trying to Love.” Or “I’m Just Trying to Love You.” Which one do you like?

ERICA
They’re both nice...“I’m Just Trying to Love You,” I guess.

DAVE
“I’m Just Trying to Love You.” It was kind of an oldies kind of love song. Not U2 oldies though.

ERICA
U2 oldies?

DAVE
Yeah, well, nowadays, oldies stations get away with playing “Street With No Name” and stuff. “With Or Without You.” That’s not oldies, not in my book. This--my song--was real oldies. The Crystals, Shangri-Las, Phil Spector, Beach Boys, “Help Me Rhonda”--that kind of oldies.

ERICA
I like U2.

DAVE
Everybody likes U2. They’re like pizza. They’re like McDonald’s. But they aren’t oldies.

ERICA
They’re old.

DAVE
The Rolling Stones are old. The Beatles are old. Those guys are ridiculously old, and still, no matter how old they are, no matter how withered and senile, they are classic rock. Not oldies. Now U2, U2 is barely even classic rock. Oldies means ancient. Like dead.

ERICA
Did you take Henri out today?

DAVE
Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?

ERICA
Well, I know you forgot a song, a song called “I’m Just Trying to Love.”

DAVE
You. “I’m Just Trying to Love You.”

ERICA
I learned you used to write songs for your band Hot Alfalfa.

DAVE
And I still write songs.

ERICA
(holding up Tamagotchi)
I found out that this little thing is called a Tamagotchi.

DAVE
I still write songs!

ERICA
Do you?

DAVE
(standing up)
Okay, to prove it, I’ll go ahead and come up with one right now.

(He takes a recorder from his pocket, starts to play it, albeit very unskillfully.)

ERICA
I didn’t know you played flute.

DAVE
Well, that’s something else you’ve learned today, isn’t it.

(He plays some more.)

DAVE
(stops playing)
And it’s a recorder, not a flute.

(He resumes his playing. Erica resumes messing around with her Tamagotchi.)

ERICA
I thought you were coming up with a song.

(Dave stops playing.)

DAVE
I am coming up with a song.
(takes a harmonica from his other pocket)
And you’re going to help me. Take this.

(He hands her the harmonica.)

ERICA
I don’t know how to play.

DAVE
That’s not the point.

ERICA
Okay...

(They proceed to play, a chaotic, absolutely unmusical mess. After about ten seconds, Dave stops.)

DAVE
It’s no use.

(Erica stops playing the harmonica. Dave sits down. Erica starts playing again. Dave picks up the Tamagotchi, starts playing with it. After a bit, Dave looks up from the Tamagotchi and at Erica. He seems interested in what she’s playing.)

DAVE
Wait...

ERICA
(stops playing)
What?

DAVE
Play that again, what you just played.

ERICA
Okay...

(She plays again.)

DAVE
That’s it!
(stands up)
That’s it!

(Erica stops playing. Dave goes around the table, hugs and kisses Erica.)

DAVE
That’s the song!

(In joyful celebration, Dave runs off the stage. Erica watches him go, shakes her head in amazement, then, as the lights fade out, plays the harmonica a little more.)


END OF PLAY

HBO

Hey, I've made the bigtime everybody! I have HBO. And I've discovered that although the movies are generally horrible, they have some of the funniest shows on TV since Beavis & Butthead. These shows are:

Bored to Death - Who knew anything with Jason Schwartzman and Ted Danson would be so entertaining, perfectly paced and low-key funny? I wish I came up with the idea for this show: a writer struggling with his second novel who advertises on craigslist as a private detective.

The Life & Times of Tim - Man, this is some of the best lo-fi retarded animation ever. I love the establishing shots, they always seem to have bums sitting against buildings, bums in garbage cans, crazy people yelling at nothing, hookers, etc.. Some of the episodes are sort of one-track duds but the ones that shine really shine. Like the one I watched last night, "The Comeback Sermon," in which Tim has broken up with his girlfriend and has nowhere to live. He tries staying with his friend and sharing his bed, a friend who has night fits and advises Tim to hug him and "stick his leather wallet in his mouth" whenever the fits start. He also tries staying with his sex-crazed priest.

Eastbound & Down - A show about a mullet-sporting, self-centered, coke-snorting ass whose once glorious professional baseball career is over and done with, leaving him mooching off his brother's family, sleeping on their couch, and substitute teaching at his old high school.

And "The Pacific" isn't funny at all, but is refreshingly well-done. No shaky cams, overdone cgi crap, just straight-up war in the jungle awesome.

Ann Arbor Film Festival

The Film Festival here in Ann Arbor, the longest-running experimental and independent film festival in North America, starts this Tuesday. Lots of awesome stuff to see. I already have tickets for the Diamond Pivot Bright program of short films in competition on Wednesday night (preceeded by a rare, silent 10-minute 8mm of Iggy and the Stooges in NYC in '73), as well as Saturday night's "An Evening with Kenneth Anger" which will screen four early-ish K. Anger shorts, including "Scorpio Rising." I've seen all of these about ten times each, and even own the dvd sets, but never seen them on a big screen. The totally unsurpassably sweet thing is that the films are followed by an on-stage conversation between the 80-something Kenneth Anger himself (!!) and some NYC critic!

Also piquing my interest:

-Harry Smith's "Heaven & Earth Magic" (aka Film No. 12) with live musical accompaniment by Black Lotus on Friday night.

-Short documentaries by Pavel Medvedev, Saturday afternoon

All Hail Funkadelic!

I've been listening to a lot of Funkadelic lately, and I've noticed a bunch of awesome far-out, amazingly tight tracks that I seemed to have missed the last time I was in to them like this. That time was like more than ten years ago.

Let's Make It Last - Cosmic Slop
I'll Stay - Standing on the Verge of Getting it On
Be My Beach - Let's Take it to the Stage
The Song is Familiar - Let's Take it to the Stage

A Short Play

I write a lot of plays. Here's a short one I recently finished.

"LOVE, RANDY"

KATIE sits at a table, cutting coupons.

CHARLIE walks in, carrying a briefcase.


KATIE
How was work today?

CHARLIE
Busy.

(He sets down the briefcase, sits down at the table. He picks up part of a newspaper, starts reading.)

KATIE
Same as always?

CHARLIE
That’s right. No, no, I take that back. Something strange happened today. Fred, he wore a pink shirt in to work.

KATIE
Fred. Wheel of Fortune Fred?

CHARLIE
That’s Price is Right Fred. And no, not him.

KATIE
Sales Fred?

CHARLIE
You’re thinking of Fred Gregory. This Fred’s in HR. “Old Fred.”

KATIE
I don’t remember any HR Fred. How old is he?

CHARLIE
That’s because he never comes to the party. You’ve never met him.

KATIE
A pink shirt?

CHARLIE
Yes. Pink.

(He starts looking through the ad section of the newspaper.)

CHARLIE
Now here’s a nice blue sweater.

KATIE
Are you thinking of going to O’Flaherty’s tonight?

CHARLIE
You know, I think I’m staying in.

KATIE
Do you have plans tonight?

CHARLIE
No. No plans
(pause)
Why? Do you have plans?

KATIE
I was thinking of maybe going grocery shopping later.

CHARLIE
(looking at paper)
They say here that space travel, leisurely space travel, it will become considerably more affordable these next few years.

KATIE
Oh...

CHARLIE
What do you think about maybe going to outer space together?

KATIE
Well, I don’t know. What about Paris, Charlie?

CHARLIE
What about it?

KATIE
I thought we were thinking about visiting Paris or London in a few years.

CHARLIE
Paris? Now tell me, where is the adventure in Paris? Name one person you know who’s taken a space vacation.

KATIE
I don’t think we could afford to go on a space vacation, Charlie.

CHARLIE
Maybe I’ll just go.

(He stands up.)

KATIE
Are you going to O’Flaherty’s?

CHARLIE
To space. I’ve decided.

(He walks off. Katie continues to cut coupons.)

KATIE
I wonder how long he’ll be gone.

(Charlie returns with a shoebox, sits down at the table, opens the box. He takes out a few stacks of baseball cards.)

KATIE
What are those?

CHARLIE
My old baseball cards. If I’m going up into space, I’m going to have to sell a few things around here.

KATIE
None of my things.

CHARLIE
(looking through box)
I should be able to get, well, something for these.

KATIE
I didn’t know you collected baseball cards.

(Charlie looks at a photo he’s found in the box. He turns over the photo and finds an inscription.)

CHARLIE
“Love, Randy.”

KATIE
Hm?

CHARLIE
Randy. “Love, Randy.” Do you know a Randy?

KATIE
No, I don’t think so. No. Why?

CHARLIE
That’s what’s written here.
(holding up photo for her to see)
Do you know this guy?

KATIE
(squinting at photo)
No...Do you know him?

CHARLIE
I’m telling you right now...I’m warning you, if you know this person, this Randy--if you’ve ever known anyone named Randy, in any way whatsoever--you’d better be truthful to me about it.
(pause)
Well?

KATIE
Well, maybe I--

CHARLIE
I knew it.

KATIE
Maybe I once knew someone who went by that name. Very, very briefly, mind you. She lived down the hall from me. We’d have coffee once in a while, talk together about all sorts of things. We both liked musicals. We saw “The Wiz” together. But it wasn’t exactly love between us, Charlie.

CHARLIE
He.

KATIE
Hm?

CHARLIE
It’s a he in this picture.

KATIE
Well, you know, she never did give me a picture of herself.

(She laughs a little.)

CHARLIE
What’s so funny?

KATIE
It’s nothing...it’s just she wasn’t the most photogenic girl in the world.

CHARLIE
Enough. What I want to know is, how did this get in here? I know that I don’t know a Randy.

KATIE
I don’t know. Maybe Carla knew a Randy.

CHARLIE
Carla? She never mentioned any Randy to me.
(looks at photo)
Besides, why would Carla leave her photo in with my things?

KATIE
You lived together once, didn’t you?

CHARLIE
That was quite a long time ago. No, this isn’t that old. Actually, it looks pretty new to me.

KATIE
I wonder how Carla’s doing these days.

CHARLIE
Don’t change topics. I want to know where this thing came from.

KATIE
I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.
(stands up)
I wish I could. But I just can’t.
(starts to walk away)
What do you think we should have for dinner tonight, Charlie?

CHARLIE
Stop right there.

(She keeps going.)

CHARLIE
Stop!

(She stops.)

CHARLIE
There’s something wrong here. There’s definitely something to this. I can tell, you know. You’re not fooling me.

KATIE
Charlie--

CHARLIE
No, now turn around.

(She slowly turns around.)

KATIE
Yes?

CHARLIE
Walk back to the table.

(After a pause, Katie walks back to the table.)

CHARLIE
Sit down.

(Katie hides her face in her hands.)

CHARLIE
Sit!

(She sits down.)

CHARLIE
Take away your hands.
(pause)
Katie...Look at me.

(She takes away her hands.)

CHARLIE
You’re not even crying.

KATIE
I can’t.

CHARLIE
Pathetic. You’re pathetic, you know that?

KATIE
It’s not mine, Charlie. I’m telling you the truth.

CHARLIE
Then it made it in here by itself. By magic--that’s what you’re telling me.

KATIE
Maybe someone broke in and put it in there. As a sort of trademark or something. Remember when we had our TV stolen a few years ago?

CHARLIE
Listen--I am going to sit here and hold my breath in until you tell me.

KATIE
Charlie...

(Charlie holds his breath.)

KATIE
I’m sure there’s an explanation. Maybe, let’s see, maybe he’s a baseball player. Maybe that picture is worth something. People do collect autographs of baseball players, you know. Did you check to see if he looks like anybody on any of your baseball cards?

(He continues to hold his breath.)

KATIE
Wait, I know, maybe someone put it in there as a joke. Like Richard. Or J.P.--he was always playing practical jokes on you, wasn’t he, putting pink shirts and pink flowers in your drawers and closet and things like that? Didn’t you say once that J.P. and Richard and everybody used to joke about how you might be, you know...homosexual?

(He lets out his breath.)

CHARLIE
Know what? Forget about it.

(He rips up the photo. Katie starts to cry softly. He sits there and watches her cry for a few seconds, then he stands up. He starts to slowly walk away.)

KATIE
Where are you going?

CHARLIE
Space. Outer space.

(He exits. A moment later, he returns.)

CHARLIE
Tacos. Soft tacos. With refried beans. That’s what I want for dinner.

(He exits again. Pause. Katie stands up, walks off in the other direction. Lights fade out.)


END OF PLAY