So let me be frank.

I probably go to the theatre more than the average person because it’s what I do.  I make theatre and I teach theatre; therefore, I also have to be a consumer of theatre.  It’s how I stay current, and hopefully I see work that inspires me to create and teach in new and different ways.

As I’ve grown older and more experienced, that last piece about inspiration very rarely happens.  Once I started studying theatre as a graduate student, it became harder and harder to feel inspired about anything.  I find it difficult to shut off my internal critic, and as a result, I end up analyzing every choice up on stage, from acting to directing to design.  Unfortunately this often makes going to the theatre a really unpleasant experience.

Case in point: I saw a certain show with a certain famous pop star the other night.  Other than a beautiful design (costumes, scenic, and lighting), the production failed miserably.  Even the pop star’s fame couldn’t make the show move along.  While disappointing, I’ve come to expect this kind of experience.  Broadway musical productions rarely satisfy beyond showcasing the newest visual innovation.  Or we get some movie or television star attempting to act in real time without stopping and starting for multiple takes.  If these actors make it through the performance without a major screw up, we think that they’re suddenly “gifted stage actors.”  Granted, there are excellent crossover actors who can go both ways, but that should never be assumed.

This afternoon I had the absolute pleasure and privilege to see the new musical Once on Broadway, based on the movie of the same name.  This show is by far one of the best new pieces of theatre that I’ve seen in at least 15 years, maybe longer.  I haven’t felt this connected to a musical since seeing Rent for the first time in 1996, and ironically, Once also originated at New York Theatre Workshop, the original off-Broadway home of Rent.

Once features outstanding performances by the two lead actors, Steve Kazee and Cristin Milioti, both of whom have been nominated for Tony Awards.  Beyond these two leads, the entire ensemble turns out fantastic performances, full of energy, focus, and nuance.  Not to mention that every single one of them plays an instrument in the performance.  So the entire experience feels filled with artistry, musicianship, and sensitivity that moved me at various points throughout the show.

I could go on and on and on about this show, but instead, I’m going to make a few very clear points:

#1.  Once knows exactly what it is.  It doesn’t try to be anything other than what it is, and the entire cast and production team understand that.  Hallelujah!  This so rarely happens anymore, so when it does, it should be acknowledged.  The Tonys got it right this time with 11 nominations for this show.

#2.  The Irishness of Once is apparent from start to finish, and having spent a fair amount of time in Dublin, the authenticity of  the storytelling is striking.

#3.  The production team has created a theatrical experience for this adaptation, not a simple replication of the movie.  But this understanding of the theatrical experience has made this production incredibly moving.  Enda Walsh (book), John Tiffany (director), and Steven Hoggett (movement) have made that translation to the stage happen in a way that I found inspiring.  The simplicity and specificity of the storytelling makes for an actor-driven event that has moments of magic that I will not soon forget.

I’m still processing the experience of seeing this performance.  My advice is to get a ticket as soon as you can.  It’s one of those moments that rarely comes around anymore.

Do it.

Now.

Do not miss Once. 

 

On Monday, Senators from across the country, mostly our GOP friends, decided to block the proposed Buffet Rule from even entering debate on the Senate floor.  The proposed bill would require anyone making $1 million or more to pay a minimum of 30% in federal taxes.  Conversely, poll numbers indicate that 7 out of 10 Americans are in favor of such legislation.  That nagging 30% of people who are not in favor is slightly disconcerting, but that’s another issue.

This action by elected Senators offers a fine example of how democracy doesn’t always work so well.  These 100 men and women get elected by the citizens of their states to represent their interests in Congress and to make decisions for the good of the American people.  Senators and representatives should represent the interests of the electorate through their voting and their support of certain measures.  I’m relating this back to the idea of privilege that I discussed in the last blog post.  Our elected friends seem to be losing touch with the electorate more and more each election cycle.  Democracy worked a little better when the gaps in the American experience weren’t quite so large.  At least that’s my perception from 20 or so years of personal awareness and from studying American history.

How can the gap in experience and understanding begin to shrink?  Who should we elect to hold these offices?  Do we need more representation so that viewpoints on issues can be more differentiated and actually represent the experience of the electorate?  Does bigger, broader government cause a better system of checks and balances?  I have a sinking feeling that the answer to the last question is “no,” but it might not hurt to entertain the idea as a way to get to something better than what we have now.

 

In an Op/Ed piece in The New York Times called “Working and Women,” Frank Bruni adds his two cents about Hilary Rosen’s super gaffe about Ann Romney being a stay-at-home mom and never working.  There’s been a ton of commentary about this, mostly about how stay-at-home moms deserve more respect.  Bruni talks about his own stay-at-home mom, and I feel great love and respect for my stay-at-home mom, who ultimately needed to become a working mom because the family’s financial situation demanded it.

For me, this whole debacle comes down to something much more deeply rooted: class and socioeconomic status (SES).  Bruni acknowledges this in his op/ed, but he doesn’t spend enough time digging into the issue.  Let’s face it, Romney and Obama don’t have much clout with the middle class.  Both are h0pelessly aloof when it comes to people outside of their privileged worlds, and they and their families are easy targets for anyone looking to paint them as inaccessible, misinformed, or out of touch.  The diversity of the “American experience” has intensified over the last century, but our leadership has not shifted as quickly.  Privileged men, and now some women, still make their way to the top of the food chain, while the “99%” largely feel stuck in the mire.  Whether that’s entirely true is difficult to tell, but a person’s perception is her/his reality, and that reality does not help either candidate’s relationship to the majority of the US population.  Hilary Rosen’s comments about Ann Romney also come from a liberal, educated viewpoint that places value on certain kinds of experiences and ways of being.  This is a problem, and Bruni scratches at that as well.

US elections have been and will continue to be unfortunate reminders for the majority of the American people that leadership comes from privilege.  The mythology of the American Dream tells us that upward social mobility is achievable in the American meritocracy, as long as we work hard enough.  Lately, that’s not been the case for a large majority of the electorate.  Fewer and fewer people believe the myth, and probably with good reason.  Until a leader comes along who really acknowledges that in an honest way, the image problems will continue and comments like Hilary Rosen’s will continue as well.

 

I sat in a meeting earlier this week and listened to a description of how collaboration can be viewed as a strength, a “big idea,” and an impediment.  One of my colleagues in the room expressed surprise at the last notion, that collaboration could be a negative prospect. I found the conversation fascinating, and I thought a lot about how collaboration can in fact be an impediment.

I think that culturally we are at a moment when it’s only acceptable to be open to collaboration. The concept and the word have become “buzzy,” and as a result we have to embrace them.

The facilitator of the meeting explained that collaboration could be viewed as an impediment because it can potentially dilute the strength of the individual entities that are trying to collaborate. This makes a lot of sense to me.

As a result, collaboration between entities requires that those entities be strong and confident in their own individual areas of expertise.  If this is not the case, the collaboration could weaken the entities and therefore weaken the end product of the collaboration.  Collaboration requires openness, and that openness can only come out of a place of strength and confidence from the individual parties involved.  Additionally, collaboration cannot be forced. Collaborators need to meet each other in a moment and work together to move forward out of that moment. If the collaborators lack shared experience, knowledge, and/or vocabulary, the collaboration is likely to fail.

I’m adding “collaboration” to my list of things to ponder right now, along with subjectivity in educational assessment and gaming theory as a pedagogical stance.  Does subjectivity have a place in assessment, and if so, where and how much?  How does gaming theory affect how we teach this generation of young people?

 

I wanted to share this video that was created, directed, and produced by the out, gay captain of the men’s volleyball team at NYU, Jay Hayes.

NYU has a reputation for being very “queer friendly,” but that doesn’t mean that its students are immune to hate speech or homophobia.  The world of professional sports gets a lot of bad press around homophobia, and rightly so.  It’s inspiring and encouraging to see these athletes and their coaches, of all sexual orientations, helping young people to know that it’s more than OK to be gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, or queer and an athlete.

This video makes me proud to be a member of the NYU community.  Please share it with others.  It deserves to be seen, just like these young athletes.

 

Really

With thanks to Greg Louganis for the vivid memory

With thanks to Allen Ginsberg, as portrayed by James Franco in the film Howl, for fearlessness

The lights rise on the living room of an apartment in NYCs West Village.  Its late in the evening or early in the morning, that time when magical things happen.  Connections over tea, drunk pronouncements of love, realizations that change lives, profound pieces of writing.  There is one light on in the apartment, a table lamp.

Voices outside the door of the apartment.  The sound of keys turning in the lock.  A burst of laughter just before the door opens.  Two men enter.  PETER is about 30 years old, short hair, medium height and build, really good shape.  He’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt, boots.  He carries a jacket in his hand.  He is followed by MARCUS, about 45, graying hair, wearing a suit.  Tie is loosened at the neck.  He’s a handsome, older guy. Some would call him a DILF.

PETER hits a light switch near the door, and the apartment is flooded with too much light.

MARCUS (shielding his eyes)
AH!  Too bright.

PETER
Sorry, Marcus.  Sorry.

PETER shuts off the light.

MARCUS
That’s better.

PETER throws his jacket over the back of the couch, and MARCUS removes his jacket and tie.  PETER goes off stage to the kitchen.  Sound of cabinets opening and running water.

PETER (offstage)
Are you thirsty?

MARCUS
Sure.

PETER (coming back on for a moment with two glasses, sound of water running)
Is tap water ok?

MARCUS
Great.  I’ve heard New York has great tap water.

PETER (going off, offstage)
Uh.  OK.  I’m not sure I’d say great.  (He re-enters with two glasses.)  But drinkable.  (He hands MARCUS a glass.)  Cheers (clinks his glass to MARCUS and begins to drink.)

MARCUS sniffs the water and holds it up to the light.

MARCUS (chuckling)
You didn’t put anything in my water, did you, PETER?

PETER (choking a bit on his water)
What?

MARCUS
I’m kidding!  I’m kidding.  You’re poured me so many drinks tonight you had ample opportunity to slip a mickey in my cocktail.

PETER
A what?

MARCUS
A mickey.  Like a pill.  Drugs?

PETER
Oh, right.  (laughs, but not so sure of the joke still)

MARCUS drinks the water down quickly and sets the glass on the table near the lamp.

MARCUS
So how long have you been working at that bar?

PETER
Why don’t you sit down?

PETER moves his jacket out of the way and gestures for MARCUS to sit.  He does, and PETER sits at the opposite end of the couch, still holding his glass of water.

MARCUS
So?

PETER
At the bar?

MARCUS
Yes, how long have you worked there?

PETER
About six months.

MARCUS
Wow.  That’s not that long.  You seem to know everybody that comes in.  Or they know you.

PETER
Yeah.  I guess I’m just really friendly.  What do you do again?

MARCUS
I’m a lawyer.

PETER
Where?

MARCUS
St. Louis.

PETER
Oh!

MARCUS
You been?

PETER
No, but I’ve heard about it.

MARCUS
Not so exciting. That’s what you heard?

PETER
Something like that.

PETER gets up quickly and takes the empty glasses to the kitchen.

MARCUS
It’s an OK place. Just certainly not New York.

PETER (offstage)
Right.

MARCUS
What did you do before this?  The bartending.

PETER (offstage)
Uh, what did you say?

MARCUS (yelling)
Before this job.  What did you do?

PETER (offstage)
Oh…uh…this and that.

PETER returns.  He looks uncomfortable.  He sits down on the couch again, one leg under his bum.

MARCUS
This and that?

PETER
Yeah.  When I first moved here I had some odd jobs.  Temp stuff.  I wasn’t very good at office work, so I stopped and was unemployed for awhile. And then last April, I got the job at the bar, and I’ve been there ever since.

MARCUS
Last April?

PETER
Yeah, I think so.  Let me think.  April, May, June…  Yeah, least April.

MARCUS
But that’s a year ago, PETER. It’s April now.  You said a few minutes ago that you’ve been bartending there for six months.

PETER (caught in the lie)
Did I say six months?  I meant a year.

MARCUS
Well, which is it, Peter?

MARCUS looks at PETER.  PETER avoids his gaze.

MARCUS
Peter?

PETER shrugs and flashes his bartender smile, but it doesn’t work.  MARCUS gets up.

MARCUS
I think I better get back to my hotel.

PETER (getting up)
No, don’t go.  We’re just getting to have a real conversation without yelling at each other. Over the loud music.

MARCUS
Yeah, it’s nice to be talking to you and actually hear what you’re saying instead of reading your lips.

PETER (getting closer, trying to distract)
Yeah, well, the one thing I miss is having to be so close to you.  Yelling in your ear, smelling you, as I ask you what drink you want next.

PETER has gotten very close to MARCUS and is leaning in to kiss him.  MARCUS is taken by it and the two begin to kiss.  PETER reaches up and begins to unbutton MARCUS shirt, and MARCUS grabs his hands.

MARCUS
That’s all very distracting, but you’re not telling me something, and I’m not interested in doing this without knowing more that’s true about you.  So I should get going.  (He begins to grab his coat and tie from the couch.)  Thank you for the water and –

PETER
Wait.  Wait.  OK.  (pause)

MARCUS puts down the coat and tie and makes a motion for PETER to proceed.

PETER (slowly)
Before I worked as a bartender at the club . . . I was a dancer.

MARCUS
Like a dancer in a company?

PETER
No, not exactly.

MARCUS
What kind of dancer?

PETER
A dancer in the showers.  At the bar.

Silence as MARCUS takes that in.

MARCUS
You danced in the showers?

PETER
Yes.

MARCUS
For how long?

PETER
I did that for six months, while I was learning to bartend, and then a position behind the bar opened up, and I applied and got the job.

MARCUS sits down on the couch for a moment.  Hes a little taken aback by this news.

MARCUS
So you danced in the showers, like those guys were dancing tonight?

PETER
Yes.

MARCUS
And you wore what those guys were wearing?

PETER
Basically.  Not much different than what I was wearing to serve you drinks all night.

MARCUS
And all those drunk guys were touching them.  People touched you like that?

PETER
Yes.  But it was just part of the work.  It doesn’t mean anything.  Really.

MARCUS (repeating quietly what PETER has said)
“Doesn’t mean anything.  Really.”  What do you mean by “really?”

PETER
I mean that it really doesn’t mean anything.  Really.

MARCUS is clearly not buying it.

PETER
You think it means something?  Those guys who wave dollar bills at the dancers?  They’re just looking for a cheap feel.  You bend down, you make eyes at them, you let them touch you, and then you move on.  It doesn’t mean anything.

MARCUS
It felt pretty intimate to me.  Those guys were wet, I could see everything about them through the white fabric, drunk guys held on to them, and they all looked like they were enjoying the attention.

PETER
And?  It’s just a job.  Occupational hazards.  I’m sure there are things about your job that you don’t—

MARCUS
It’s not like being a lawyer. And if it’s just a job, then why did you lie about doing it?

PETER
Because guys react exactly like this.  All holier than though. Or they get really turned on by it and treat me like a piece of meat.

MARCUS
And you don’t enjoy the latter?

PETER
What’s that supposed to mean?

MARCUS
That kind of attention.  If you’re standing in a shower in front of a couple hundred people, basically naked, you must enjoy the attention.  (pause) Did you?

PETER stares at him.

PETER (slowly, deliberately)
Yeah.  I did.  I liked it when guys like you sat at the bar, drank lots of drinks just like you did and spent the evening staring at my thick cock and my rock hard ass through the wet fabric.  I loved every minute of it.

MARCUS
Did you get hard like those two guys tonight?

PETER is silent for a moment.  Its embarrassing to remember that part of the job.

MARCUS
Is that my answer?

PETER
Sometimes.  It feels good to be looked at, Marcus. It turns me on.  In a good way.  I’d think you would understand that.

MARCUS looks at him for a moment, like what are you talking about, and then he realizes PETER is talking about his good looks.

MARCUS
Well, I never felt looked at like that. Not in public. And I never dressed like that in public.

PETER
Really?

MARCUS
Really.

PETER
I thought you told me earlier that you swam in college.

MARCUS
And?

PETER
Breast stroke and IM.

MARCUS
Good memory. Your point?

PETER
And that would have been in the mid 80s.

MARCUS
How do you know that?

PETER
I needed to see your driver’s license because you don’t sign the backs of your credit cards, remember? I saw your birthdate.

MARCUS
You don’t miss a beat, do you?  So I swam on a college team. How is that connected to your dancing?

PETER
Were you any good?

MARCUS
Two-time All American in the breast stroke.

PETER
So you competed a lot. In front of people?

MARCUS
Yes, but what does that—

PETER
In a speedo.

MARCUS
Oh c’mon. That is so not the same thing!  Are you kidding me?

PETER
How is it not the same thing?  You wore those speedos in front of a lot more people at those swim meets.

MARCUS
But that’s a sport.

PETER
OK. But I would also say a form of entertainment.

MARCUS
That’s stretching it, but OK.  Now I’ll tell you this though, my speedo covered a lot more than what those guys covered tonight.

PETER
I’m not so sure about that. I’ve seen the pictures of those speedos from back then and they’re pretty small. Not like what Michael Phelps wears today.

MARCUS
Those long shorts that he wears are ridiculous. I don’t know how anyone swims that fast wearing those things. All that drag! I don’t care what they say about technology. Less is definitely more as far as swimming goes.

There’s a moment of silence as PETER rests his case.

MARCUS
OK. OK. But we weren’t wearing white speedos that you could—

PETER
Greg Louganis wore a white speedo. At the 1988 Olympics.

MARCUS
You were barely alive when he wore that white speedo.

PETER
I’ve seen the pictures.  Plus it’s hard to forget a hot guy banging his head on a spring board and then winning a gold medal wearing a white speedo that says “Air Mail” across the crotch.  Even when you’re only 6 years old.

MARCUS (remembering)
It certainly was.  Unforgettable.  I wanted to race in a speedo just like that.

The two men fall silent.

MARCUS (suddenly)
You were only 6 in 1988?  You’re that young?

PETER
Maybe.

MARCUS
Can I see your ID?

PETER
You can see a lot about me if you can get past the shower dancing.

MARCUS
Really?  I’ve seen quite a bit at the bar already.

PETER
Well, there’s a lot more under the outfit.  Really.

There’s a pause here as MARCUS thinks this over.

MARCUS
Well, in my line of work, we’d say that you’ve made a compelling argument for the similarities between the swim team and dancing in the showers. I’m not sure your argument really holds any emotional water, but I’m willing to take that risk.

MARCUS stands up and finishes taking off his shirt.  He reveals a wife beatered torso that still looks like it swims the breast stroke.

PETER
Still swimming?

MARCUS
Four days a week.

PETER
In a speedo?

MARCUS
A white one.

PETER
Really?

MARCUS (moving towards PETER on the couch)
Really.

The table lamp fades to black as MARCUS helps PETER off with his t-shirt.

 

What Happened Last Night?

An exercise for a larger project

Thanks to Jeanmarie Higgins for the question.

With memories of Tricia Guadagnino Nitsche and Cathy Corey Cruz in Morris Library in 1991.

 

Lights up to find two young women, SARAH and VIC, sitting at a dining room table.  The table is covered with books, papers, chip bags, and empty cans of Red Bull.  SARAH is listening to music on her headphones and humming along.  She is 21, brown hair, glasses, dressed in her pajamas.  VIC is the same age, and she punching numbers into her computer.  She’s wearing part of a waitress uniform and eating Chinese take out.  SARAH’s humming is getting on her nerves, but she continues to try and work.  SARAH gets excited by the music and begins to play drums with her hands on the table.

VIC (not looking up)
Sarah.  Could you keep it down?

SARAH doesn’t hear her.

VIC (still not looking up)
Sarah?

SARAH still does not hear her.

VIC
SARAH!

SARAH (looking up and yelling)
WHAT?

VIC (motioning to take off the headphones)
Could you keep it down?

SARAH
Was I making noise?

VIC
You were banging on the table.

SARAH
I was?

VIC
Ah, yeah.  So could you stop?

SARAH
OK.  Sorry.

SARAH puts her headphones back on.  The women go back to working and SARAH begins humming again.  VIC endures it for a bit, but she can’t concentrate.

VIC
SARAH!

SARAH
What now?

VIC
I can’t work with you humming!

SARAH
WHAT?

VIC
I CAN’T—

SARAH
WHAT?  I CAN’T HEAR YOU

VIC gets up and takes the headphones off SARAH’s head.

SARAH
Ow!

VIC
I can’t concentrate with you banging the table!

SARAH
I wasn’t banging the table!

VIC
Well, the humming doesn’t work either.  Could you quit it?  Or go work in your room.

SARAH
What’s wrong with you?

VIC
There’s nothing wrong with me.  I’m just trying to do my work.  I can’t concentrate on these equations with you making all of this noise.

SARAH
Alright.  Sorry.

VIC
Fine.

SARAH
Fine.

SARAH shuts her music off and removes the headphones.   She starts to read again, and VIC settles in.  SARAH gets bored very quickly and picks up a bag of chips.  They make a lot of noise.  She begins to crunch, quite loudly.  This goes on for a bit, and VIC is going crazy.  SARAH finishes a bag, crumples it up, and opens another.  VIC puts her head down on the table.

VIC
I can’t believe this…

SARAH
What’s wrong now, Vic?

VIC
Nothing.

SARAH
Why are you banging your head on the table?  Are you ok?

More crunching.  VIC doesn’t answer.

SARAH
Vic?

VIC
Could you stop eating the potato chips, please?

SARAH
But I’m starving.  You want some?

VIC
NO!  I don’t want any chips.  Could you eat something else?  Something quieter?

SARAH
What else do we have?

VIC
How about some ice cream or something that doesn’t crunch or make noise?

SARAH
We don’t have any ice cream.  I already checked.

VIC
Jesus…

SARAH
What’s with you?

VIC
I’m trying to work, Sarah.

SARAH
Me too, but you’re acting all sensitive to noise and stuff.  What’s the problem?

VIC
These equations aren’t working out, and I can’t concentrate with you making all of this noise.

SARAH
What noise??

VIC
Seriously, Sarah?  Are you fucking kidding me?

SARAH looks at her and shrugs, like “What do you mean?”

VIC
You’re unbelievable…

SARAH
Me?  I’m unbelievable?  You’re the one who’s acting crazy.

VIC
Why are you doing this?

SARAH
Doing what?

VIC
Singing?  Banging the table?  Eating all these chips?  You’re like a fucking noise machine or something.

SARAH
We always listen to music when we do homework.  And look around, Sarah.  You’ve downed your fair share of food since you got home.

VIC
I had class all day and then worked from four to eleven at the restaurant.  I need to eat.

SARAH
Well, so do I.

VIC
I’m not saying you can’t eat, Vic.  I just can’t hear myself think.  Can you please just do this stuff quietly?  This lab is due in the morning.

SARAH
What time?

VIC
9:30.

SARAH
It’s 1:30.  Plenty of time.

VIC
Fuck you.

Silence.  SARAH crunches one last time.  VIC looks up and SARAH smirks.

SARAH
All done!

SARAH crumples the bag and goes back to work.  VIC settles in.  She works on her computer and SARAH reads more from her book.  She finds something that surprises.

SARAH
Huh.

VIC
What?

SARAH
Did you know that Beethoven was going deaf?

VIC
What are you talking about?

SARAH
Beethoven?  You know who he is, right?

VIC
Some piano guy, I guess.

SARAH
An important composer.

VIC
So?

SARAH
So he was going deaf when he was writing music.

VIC
How could he write music and be deaf?

SARAH
Going deaf.  He went deaf.

VIC
And this is important because?

SARAH
No reason.  Just interesting.

VIC
What class is that for?

SARAH
Music Appreciation

VIC
I thought you dropped that.

SARAH
Tried to, but it was too late.  Drop/Add period was over.

VIC
You said the professor was really boring.

SARAH
She is.  But we started listening to some Beethoven in class. It’s kinda cool.

VIC
Great…

SARAH goes back to reading.  The two work in silence for a bit.  VIC seems to make headway with her equations.  She gets excited, and eventually sits back and closes the laptop lid.

VIC
Done!

SARAH
You’re finished?

VIC
I just figured it out.  Thank God.  I’m about ready to fall over.

SARAH
Go get some sleep.

VIC
Are you going to keep working?

SARAH
I’ve got to finish this reading or else I won’t be ready for class.

VIC
Isn’t that Music Appreciation class a lecture?

SARAH
Yeah, but she likes people to participate.

VIC
Does she even know your name?

SARAH
I sit in the front.

VIC
The very front?

SARAH
Yes. Front center.

VIC
Brown noser.

SARAH
Call it whatever you want, I’m getting an A in this class.

VIC
You’re such a brown noser.

SARAH
Why is that brown nosing?

VIC
It so is brown nosing.  Sitting in the front row?  Participating in class?  C’mon.

SARAH
I want the grade, Vic.  I’ll do what it takes to get the grade.

VIC
Always looking for the grade…

SARAH
What’s that supposed to mean?

VIC
Why are you so grade obsessed?

SARAH
Grade obsessed?

VIC
It’s all you ever worry about.

SARAH
Whatever.

VIC
Not whatever.  It’s the truth.  You’ve got this obsession with getting an A.  I don’t get it.

SARAH
Well, not everyone’s got a free ride, Vic.

VIC
I don’t have a free ride.  My parents pay all of my tuition.

SARAH
That’s a free ride.

VIC
Hey, I work, Sarah.  I work a lot.

SARAH
So do I, Vic.  Like 30 hours a week.  To pay my tuition.  Not to save up for Spring Break.

SARAH wins that round.

VIC
Fine.  I’m going to bed.  I’ll see you in the morning.

SARAH (picking up her headphones)
Don’t forget to put your ear plugs in.

VIC
Don’t even think about it.

SARAH
Something’s got to keep me awake.

VIC
Please don’t bang the table?  I’ll sleep through the humming, but not the banging.

SARAH
I’ll do my best.

VIC
G’nite.  Don’t stay up too much longer.

SARAH
OK.

VIC exits and SARAH begins to listen to her headphones again.  This time the audience can hear the music.  It’s a lovely piece of Beethoven music, “Sonata Pathetique.” She goes back to reading.  And the lights slowly fade to black.

 

 

 

Stains

Lights up to find a BEN, 28 years old, on his hands and knees with a scrub brush.  He’s wearing sweat shorts and a cut off t-shirt.  His hair is matted with sweat, as he’s been scrubbing the floor for awhile.  This is the floor of his apartment.  He dips the brush into the water again, and scrubs harder.  There’s one spot that he can’t seem to get out.  He scrubs, then looks at it, scrubs again, gets his face close to the floor and it’s not gone.

BEN
Shit!

He chucks the brush into the bucket, and the water goes splashes everywhere.

BEN
Fuuuuuuck!

BEN looks at the mess he’s made, and just sinks down on his butt, tired and discouraged.  There is the sound of the apartment door opening and closing.  BEN looks fearfully toward the sound, then in a panic at the mess.

JUSTIN (offstage)
Hello?

BEN
Shit!

BEN looks around for something to clean up the spilled water, and he’s got nothing.  He looks down at this shirt.

JUSTIN
Ben?  What did you say?  I’ve got groceries.  Can you give me a hand?

BEN
I’m in the den, Justin.  Be there in a sec.

BEN looks down, removes his shirt, and quickly mops up the water off the floor.  JUSTIN’s voice is getting closer now.

JUSTIN
Never mind.  It’s not that much.  I’ll put it away in a second.  Why are you in here?

BEN throws his t-shirt into the bucket, sits on the spot he was scrubbing, and assumes a casual but sexy pose.  JUSTIN enters on his last question.  He’s about 26 years old, wearing a crisp pair of khakis and a white button down shirt.  Everything about him is put together.   Precise.  Hair, glasses, belt, shoes.  He’s a bit pristine. The antithesis of BEN.

BEN (with a big smile)
Hi!

JUSTIN
Hi?

BEN
How’s it goin’?

JUSTIN
It’s going fine.  Why are you in here?

BEN
Oh, just hangin’ out.

JUSTIN looks at the bucket and points to it.

JUSTIN
With a bucket of water?

BEN
Oh that.  (He laughs it off.)  I was just uh using it for some new exercises I read about in a magazine.

JUSTIN
What kind of exercises?

BEN (searching)
I uh read about them at the dentist’s office the other day.  It’s called uhm aqua lifting.

JUSTIN
Aqua lifting?

BEN
Yeah, aqua lifting.  You uh use a bucket full of water to do bicep curls and shoulder presses.  Stuff like that.

JUSTIN
Why?

BEN
Why?

JUSTIN
Yes, Ben.  Why?  We have free weights here already.  Why do you need to use a bucket of water?

BEN
Uh, well, the magazine said that the water makes it harder to do the exercises.  The sloshing around creates an imbalance, and your muscles have to overcompensate and they get bigger.  See?

BEN makes a muscle to show JUSTIN.  BEN’s a good-looking guy, so the muscle looks good to JUSTIN, who eases off just a bit.

JUSTIN
Well, just be careful when you take the bucket away.  I don’t want you to make a mess.

BEN
Jesus, Justin, I’m not going to make a mess.

JUSTIN
It’s Justin, not Jesus Justin, and I know you well enough to know that a bucket of water plus a walk to the kitchen or bathroom will equal water all over the place if you don’t take your time.  So take your time.

JUSTIN sits down in a chair across the room facing BEN.  BEN is a bit stung from the last comment, but he knows better than to get into an argument over it.

JUSTIN
How was your day?  (He’s removing his shoes.)

BEN
Fine.  Uneventful.  I went for a run, came back, wrote for about two hours, and then made some lunch.  Wrote for another two hours, and then started to do these exercises.  And here we are.  How was your day?

JUSTIN
Not quite so leisurely.

BEN
I wouldn’t say my day was leisurely.

JUSTIN
You were home all day.

BEN
But I was writing for most of that.

JUSTIN
Sure, that’s nice.

BEN is again stung by this.

BEN
What happened at the office today?

JUSTIN
The usual.  My boss acted like an asshole from the moment he got in this morning, terrorizing his assistant and mine, and generally making a mess of three of my accounts.  I spent the afternoon making phone calls to clients and trying to calm them down, and getting the assistants not to quit.  It’s nice to be home.  No messes to clean up.  As long as you don’t spill the water.

BEN
I won’t spill the water!

JUSTIN
OK, OK, calm down.  I’m just giving you a hard time.

BEN
I’m sick of you harping on me about the so-called messes.

JUSTIN
So-called messes?  Ben, we have a lot of accidents here in Apartment 412.

BEN
And?

JUSTIN
And I think if you were a little more careful about stuff, the apartment would stay cleaner.  We can’t afford to have Rosa come in more than twice a month, so that means—

BEN
Got it, Justin.  I get it, OK?   Just stop talking about it.

BEN turns away from JUSTIN, but he doesn’t get up off the floor.

JUSTIN
Now, Benjamin, don’t get all bent out of shape.

BEN
Don’t call me that.  You know I hate it when you do that.

JUSTIN
Benjamin—

BEN
I’m serious, Justin!  My mother calls me that when she’s angry with me, and I—

JUSTIN
I know, and I love it when she does it.

BEN
You’re not my mother, so stop using that name.

JUSTIN
Touchy!

BEN
Me?

JUSTIN
Yes, you.  You’re in a rotten mood.

BEN
I’m not the one who’s badgering about messes.

JUSTIN
I’m not badgering you.

BEN
You are so.  You haven’t let up since you came in the door.

JUSTIN
Well, I’d just like to come home to an apartment that’s clean and orderly.  My day is full of cleaning up other people’s messes, and I don’t want to do it at home too.  Is that so much to ask?

BEN is silent.

JUSTIN
Ben?  Is that so much to ask?

BEN
No.  I guess not.

JUSTIN
I’m just trying to find some harmony.  Peace and quiet.  It’s not happening at work, so it would be nice to have it at home.

BEN
Sure.

JUSTIN moves to the floor where BEN is sitting.  He squats down and looks at BEN.

JUSTIN
OK?

BEN
OK.

JUSTIN
Are we ok?

BEN
We’re fine.

JUSTIN
Good…

JUSTIN touches BEN’s legs.  He slides his hands up BEN’s shorts, and leans in to kiss him.  BEN resists at first, but JUSTIN’s hands in his shorts begin to break him down.  BEN kisses JUSTIN back, and the two begin to make out on the floor.  JUSTIN is on top of BEN at first.  He takes off his crisp, white shirt, and BEN pulls off his belt.  BEN then flips JUSTIN over onto his back and proceeds to kiss him again.  BEN has forgotten about the very large stain on the floor.  As the two get more involved in their making out, JUSTIN gets on top again. He’s kissing down BEN’s chest to his waistband, when he suddenly sees the stain.  JUSTIN jumps off of BEN and looks at the floor.

JUSTIN
What the hell is that?

BEN
What?

JUSTIN
The huge stain on the floor.

BEN
Justin…

JUSTIN
Ben, what did you do?

BEN (trying to re-engage JUSTIN in the making out)
Can’t we talk about it later?

JUSTIN
No, we’re not talking about it later.  What’s all over the floor?

BEN
It’s bleach.

JUSTIN
Bleach?!?!

BEN
Bleach, Justin.

JUSTIN
How did it get there?

BEN
I was on my way out the door to go downstairs to the laundry room.  I had the laundry basket full of clothes with the detergent and bleach on top.  My phone was in here, and it started to ring.  I ran to try to get the call, the bleach popped out of the basket and hit the floor.  The cap wasn’t on tight enough, and it came off and bleach spilled out on the floor.  I grabbed the phone and got the call.  But by the time I got the bleach wiped up, it had stained the floor.

JUSTIN
I can’t believe this.  You ran to get the phone and you ruined the floor.

BEN
Justin, it’s the den.  You and I are the only ones who come in here.  I work in here.  It’s not like it’s the living room or something.

JUSTIN
We just had these floors re-done last month!  It cost a fortune, and you’ve ruined it.  This is what I’m talking about with the messes.

BEN
It was an accident!

JUSTIN
It’s always an accident, Ben!  I understand that it’s an accident, but you have more accidents than a five year old and a new puppy combined.  It’s like living with a child.

BEN
I’m not a child.

JUSTIN
Well, you act one.  All the time.

BEN
All the time?

JUSTIN
Yeah, all the time.  Your clothes are everywhere.  You leave food in the sink.  The bathroom is disgusting.  The milk in the refrigerator is three days past the expiration date.  I couldn’t even make a cup of coffee this morning before I left for work!  You take no responsibility for any of the chores—

BEN
I just said I was going to do the laundry!

JUSTIN
And you destroyed the floor!

BEN
It’s a stain, Justin!  You’re having a fucking fit over a stain on the floor in a room that you barely ever come into.

JUSTIN
That’s not the point!

BEN
Then what’s the point?

JUSTIN
The point is that you and I are not making this work the way we said we would.

BEN
That’s because you’re acting like a Donna Reed Nazi about the apartment.

JUSTIN
It’s my apartment, Ben.  You moved into my apartment.

BEN
I moved in because you wanted me to move in.

JUSTIN
I offered for you to move in because you couldn’t stand living with that crazy woman anymore.  I’m beginning to think she wasn’t so crazy.

BEN
Come off it, Justin!  You know damned right well that she’s nuts.  And a total hag.  Telling people we were getting a divorce when I was moving out.  Introducing me as the Will to her Grace.  She’s a fucking nightmare.

JUSTIN
Maybe you didn’t help the situation with your shitty living habits, Ben.  You’re a disaster!  I’m starting to think she had a right to be pissed at you all the time.

BEN
I can’t believe that you’re saying all of this over a stain on the floor.

JUSTIN
It’s not just the stain on the floor!  Haven’t you been listening to me?  It’s all of the other stuff too.

BEN
We were together for a year and a half.  You came to my place all those times.  You knew what you were getting into, Justin.

JUSTIN
Knowing it and living it are two different things, Ben.

BEN
Yeah, well, I knew you were a neat freak, but knowing that and living with you are two different things too.  You’re driving me crazy with all of this!  I feel like I can’t even breathe in my own apartment!  And it’s my apartment too.  I live here now, Justin.  You keep calling it “your apartment” in front of our friends, my family.  My sister even asked me what was up with you.

JUSTIN
I worked hard for this apartment, Ben.  I spent six years saving up to be able to buy this place, and I want it to be nice.  You have no respect for that.

BEN
That’s not true!

JUSTIN
Then why do you keep dumping shit all over the floor?!?  Last week it was red wine, the week before it was your muddy soccer cleats.  Today it’s bleach.

BEN
Accidents happen, man!  It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose, for Christ’s sake!

JUSTIN
I don’t care that they’re accidents!  I want you to STOP DOING IT!  STOP RUINING MY APARTMENT!

BEN just looks at JUSTIN.  He looks at the bucket on the floor.

BEN
You just did it again.

JUSTIN
Did what?

BEN
“MY apartment.”

JUSTIN
So?

BEN
So when is it going to be our apartment?  Our home?

JUSTIN
It is our home.

BEN
It doesn’t feel like it.  Not when you act like this.

JUSTIN
Don’t try to make this my fault now?

BEN
I’m not making it anyone’s fault, Justin.  I’m just starting to realize that maybe this is a bad idea.

JUSTIN
What?  Living together?

BEN
Definitely that.  But maybe the whole thing.

JUSTIN
What?

BEN
I don’t think I can live like this with you.  And if we can’t live together, I’m not sure we should be together.

JUSTIN
Ben, it’s a disagreement.  Couples have arguments.

BEN
This is a big disagreement.  You’ve called me a child.  You’re saying this is your apartment.  Still.  After six months of me living here.  This is more complicated than me spilling things.

JUSTIN
You’re overreacting.

BEN
I don’t think I’m the one overreacting.

BEN looks at JUSTIN.  JUSTIN turns away, picks up his shirt, puts it back on and begins to button it up.

BEN
Justin?

JUSTIN
I think you should probably go.  At least for the night.  I need to think.

BEN
Uh huh.

JUSTIN
I want to make this work, but I’m not sure I can.  I thought I could, but you’re mess is way more than I’m used to.

BEN
And you’re cleanliness is suffocating me.

Silence.  BEN is looking for a response and getting nothing from JUSTIN.

BEN
Fine.  I’ll go to Julie’s.  Stay on her couch.  When you’re ready to talk about this, you call me.  I’ll get a bag of clothes and go.

JUSTIN nods.  BEN starts to leave the room, but stops.

BEN
This was your idea, Justin.  Remember that.  You wanted this.

JUSTIN
I know.

BEN exits.  JUSTIN is left standing there.  He looks down at the bucket and the stain as the lights go to black.

 

The Barn

Thanks to Virgil Thomson and Gertrude Stein for the inspiration: Four Saints in Three Acts

Thunder and lightning.  There’s a lot of rain coming down outside.  Three men sit huddled in the corner of a barn.  They are surrounded by hay.  They wear flannel shirts, jeans, and boots.  All three are wet.  One is shivering.  The other two are trying to keep him warm.

BRIAN is 32, tall, brown hair, deep brown eyes, and thin build.  He wears a red flannel shirt.  He is the wettest of the three.  His clothes stick to him.  ROGER is 34, medium height, red hair and blue eyes.  He wears a green flannel shirt, and he is the one who is shivering.  SKIP is 30, shorter, built like a wrestler.  He wears a blue flannel shirt.  He has blonde hair and green eyes.  As the play begins, he is kicking off his boots.

SKIP
I told you guys we should’ve turned the other way on that road, but no, you wouldn’t listen.

BRIAN (taking off this flannel shirt and wringing it out; his wet t-shirt reveals his torso)
I’m not the one who—

ROGER
Don’t blame me, Brian.  You always try to blame me when these weekend go wrong.

BRIAN
I wasn’t blaming you, Roger.  I was saying that I’m not the one who suggested we run out of the car.

SKIP
You were the first one out of the car.  That’s why you’re so wet. (He sneezes.)  Fucking great.  I can’t afford to get a cold.  I’ve got a big presentation for work this week.

BRIAN
You’ll be fine, Skip.  You’re such a fucking hypochondriac.  It’s rain.

SKIP
Yeah, but it’s cold, and this presentation has a promotion riding on it.

ROGER
Can you guys help me out here?  I can’t stop shivering.  I don’t know what’s wrong.

SKIP and BRIAN look at each other, and they start to inch closer to ROGER.  It’s slightly uncomfortable for them.  ROGER is grateful, but the wetness is making him colder.

ROGER
Brian, can’t you get rid of your wet clothes?  You’re making it worse.  You’re soaking wet.

BRIAN
What do you want me to do?

SKIP
Take the clothes off.

BRIAN
What?

SKIP
Take the clothes off, Brian.  It’s just us.  No one’s around.  We knocked on the farmhouse door and no one answered.  Nobody’s gonna see you.

BRIAN
But I’m not—

ROGER
Please, Brian?  I can’t get warm.

BRIAN
No.

SKIP
Are you serious?

BRIAN
Yes, I’m serious.  I’m not hanging out in a barn naked with two other guys.

ROGER
You hang out with us naked in the locker room after the company softball games in the summer.

BRIAN
That’s different.

SKIP
How so?

BRIAN
It just is.

SKIP
Why?

BRIAN
Because we’re doing something there.  We’re getting changed after a game or a shower.  We’re not just hanging out waiting for rain to stop.

ROGER
We don’t know how long we’re going to be here.  The car wouldn’t even turn over.

ROGER shivers again.  He’s really cold.  It’s not a normal chill. SKIP sneezes again.

SKIP
I’m getting out of these clothes. I’m starting to get really cold.

SKIP stands up and starts to peel himself out of his clothes.  When he gets down to his boxer briefs, BRIAN stands up.

BRIAN
Whoa.  You’re keeping those on at least.

SKIP
Why?

BRIAN
Why do you need to take them off?

SKIP
Because they’re wet, and I want them to dry.

ROGER

Brian, why are you so uptight about this?  It’s just us.

BRIAN
I’m not uptight about anything.  It’s just—

SKIP (dropping his boxers)
It’s just what?

SKIP stands in front of them completely naked.  He’s very comfortable with himself.  He picks up his clothes and lays them out on the hay as if they might dry.  There’s a flash of lightning followed quickly by a very loud clap of thunder.  The three men jump. 

SKIP
Shit!  That was really close.

ROGER shivers again.  SKIP moves to ROGER and gets up close to him.  BRIAN watches all of this, then turns away.  He pulls out his cell phone.

BRIAN
Shit!  My phone’s still not working.  I can see condensation behind the screen.  It must be wet inside.  What about you guys?

SKIP gets up and walks over to his pants and pulls out his cell phone.

SKIP
No bars.  I have shitty service out here.

ROGER (pulls out his phone)
Me too.  Nothing.

BRIAN
Fuck.

SKIP (siting down again)
The storm will pass soon.  Brian, at least take your shirt off.  I can see your nipples are hard, so you must be cold.

BRIAN (covers his chest with his arms)
You’re gross, man.

ROGER
He’s stating a fact, Brian.  I can see them from here.  You’re being retarded about this.

ROGER gratefully snuggles into SKIP.  SKIP lays back in the hay and closes his eyes.  The pair look comfortable and warm.  BRIAN looks at them and shivers.  He reluctantly peels his shirt off and sits down next to ROGER on the other side.  But he won’t look at SKIP.

ROGER
Not so bad, right?

BRIAN
Whatever.

ROGER
We’re just staying warm, man.  Nothing else.

SKIP
I’m already warmer.  This hay is great.

BRIAN
I don’t understand how taking off your clothes makes you warmer.

SKIP
Simple science, Brian.  Moisture evaporates off skin faster than cloth.  So my body’s dry now.  The clothes are still wet.

ROGER sits up and starts to unbutton his flannel shirt.

BRIAN
What’re you doing now?

ROGER
Taking my shirt off.

BRIAN
I thought you were freezing.

ROGER
Didn’t you just hear what Skip said?

BRIAN
Yeah, but you’re not soaking wet.

ROGER
I’m wetter than when we started because you’re soaking wet.  If you’d just cooperate, we’d all be better off.

BRIAN
I’m not taking off anything else.

ROGER
Suit yourself.

ROGER stands up and removes all of his clothes.  When he gets to his briefs, BRIAN freaks a bit.  He gets up and walks across the barn.

BRIAN
Is that really necessary? You two are really gonna sit here completely naked with each other and “dry off.”

ROGER
Yeah.

BRIAN
What if somebody finds us?

ROGER
Again?  We’ve been through this.

SKIP
So what if they do?

BRIAN
What are they gonna think?

ROGER (drops his briefs and places all of this clothes near SKIP’s; winks at SKIP)
They’re gonna think we’re shooting a porno.

BRIAN
You’re disgusting.

SKIP
It’s called “Dudes in the Gay Hay.”

ROGER
Starring Skip Jones, Roger Brill, and Brian Drummond.

BRIAN
Shut up!  Don’t even joke about it.

ROGER (sits back down next to SKIP)
Chill out, man.

BRIAN paces around the barn as his two friends sit down together.  They watch him pace a bit.

SKIP
Do you know how many sperm cells you’re killing by keeping your wet clothes on?

BRIAN
What are you talking about?

SKIP
I’m serious.  Your sperm need a certain temperature to stay alive.  Too much cold makes them die.

BRIAN
You’re so full of shit.

ROGER
He’s serious, Brian.  Didn’t you learn that in bio?

BRIAN
Bio was a long time ago.

SKIP
Well, let me refresh your memory.  Your sack contracts to keep your balls close to your body and your sperm at body temperature.  If you’re cold, your sack pulls up closer.  I bet your balls are sucked up into your abdomen.

BRIAN shivers.

SKIP
See!  You’re freezing.

BRIAN
I am not.

ROGER
I just saw you shiver.  I haven’t shivered since Skip dropped trou, and now I feel great.  And look, my sack is nice and loose.

SKIP (he looks at ROGER and then at his own)
Yeah, you’re right. Mine too.

BRIAN (mortified)
WHAT ARE YOU GUYS DOING?

SKIP
What?

BRIAN
You’re like looking at each other’s… at each other’s—

ROGER
Balls?

SKIP
Dicks?

BRIAN
YES!  I can’t believe you two are doing this.  Are you two gay or something?  You’re like talking about your sacks and you’re checking each other out, and it’s not normal.  I’m going back out to the car.  (he starts to leave)

SKIP
Brian, c’mon!  We’re guys.  Didn’t you ever look at another guy as a kid?

BRIAN
Absolutely not. Are you kidding?

ROGER
Remember, Skip, he grew up Catholic.  They’re uptight about that stuff.

BRIAN
Fuck you!

ROGER
I did this with my guy friends every Friday night in middle school.

SKIP
Yeah, and at summer camp.

ROGER
Couple of us even did it in the showers after swim practice.  That was high school though.  Still fun.

BRIAN
I don’t want to hear any more of this.

BRIAN shivers again, and moves to the door.  He stumbles as he goes to the door.  He seems dizzy all of the sudden.

SKIP jumps up and catches BRIAN before he goes down.  ROGER comes to the two of them and helps SKIP set BRIAN down easily on the hay.   BRIAN is a little confused.

SKIP
Brian.  Brian!  BRIAN!

BRIAN
What?

ROGER
What’s wrong?

SKIP
I don’t know.  I think he’s too cold.  He’s really shivering.

ROGER
Get him out of the clothes.

BRIAN (groggy)
NO!

SKIP
Fuck you, Brian.  You don’t have much choice.

SKIP pins BRIAN down and tears the wet shirt off, while ROGER takes off his boots, socks, and pants.  He’s got no underwear on.  There’s a bright flash, and a loud clap of thunder.

ROGER
Who knew you would go commando?

SKIP
You’re shitting me!

ROGER
I’m not.  It’s not even no undies Monday.

BRIAN is completely naked and pinned to the ground by his two naked friends.  He continues to struggle against them.  SKIP and ROGER pull him back to the hay pile and they lay around him, trying to warm him.  They rub his body with their hands.

BRIAN finally stops fighting them.  His breathing is still fast, and he suddenly begins sobbing.  He can’t stop crying.

SKIP
Brian, what’s wrong, man?

ROGER
Buddy?  Are you hurt?

BRIAN shakes his head no, but he can’t stop crying.  He reaches out and puts his arms around SKIP, who he’s facing.  SKIP looks at ROGER, who shrugs and puts his arms around BRIAN.  There’s one more bright flash and loud clap of thunder.  The rain continues to fall loudly on the roof of the barn, as the lights fade to black on the three naked men holding each other. 

 

I didn’t watch this entire interview conducted by Piers Morgan, just the clip below.   In this particular segment, Kirk Cameron manages to talk his way out of Piers’ attack on his belief system regarding homosexuality.  He stays calm, and he doesn’t get aggressive.  His position on homosexuality makes me crazy and I worry for his children’s well-being, but he does appear to have thought his position through, unlike many other people who subscribe to this kind of rhetoric.

Bottomline: There are a lot of beliefs and practices that are “ultimately destructive to the foundations of civilization.”  I’d like to see us focus on trying to resolve the ones that don’t involve people loving and caring for one another or for caring about their own well-being.  I think that list would keep everyone busy for quite awhile.

If Kirk needs help making that list, he should just drop us a line.

 

© 2011 Joe Salvatore www.joesalvatore.com Suffusion theme by Sayontan Sinha