2nd of 50 Plays: Bromancing the OK

 50 Plays  No Responses »
Jan 282012
 

Bromancing the OK

Special thanks for the inspiration to Thomas Rogers, Hanne Blank, and Salon: click to read

 

A living room in a two-bedroom apartment.  It’s a nice place.  Cozy, but definitely occupied by young men.  Young men in their 20s.  Young, straight men in their 20s.  There is a couch center stage, and an armchair stage left.  A television sits stage right, glowing.

JEFF sits on the couch.  He’s eating from a bowl of popcorn and wearing gym shorts and a wife beater.  He’s blonde, blue-eyed, with a lean swimmer’s build.  He’s about 25 years old.  Smart and sophisticated.  Slightly distant.  Engrossed in the television.

Matt sits in the armchair.  He’s eating a bowl of ice cream.  Chocolate.  He has brown hair, square features.  Handsome, but in a different way.  Maybe a bit nerdy.  Thick, muscled build.  Wrestler, but lighter weight class.  Also 25 years old.  Talkative.  A bit crass. 

MATT
So I said to my assistant, “Why do you keep leaving paperclips all over the top of your desk?”  And she just looks at me like I’m crazy.  I point to like 100 paperclips scattered all over the paperwork that I need, and she’s like, “What?”  I said, “Joanna, I need these papers now, and there are paperclips everywhere!”

(MATT looks for a response from JEFF.)

MATT
Are you listening to me? (silence) Jeff?

JEFF (not looking away from the television)
Yes, paperclips all over the papers you need.  Continue.

MATT
Right.  So I’m looking at her, waiting for her to clear the paperclips and my cell phone rings.  It’s Beth, calling to check what time our dinner reservations are for Valentine’s Day.  And I’m like, “What?”  It’s like three weeks away, and she’s calling me asking me about our dinner reservations.  So I start asking why she’s calling me about that, and then Joanna like gets up and walks away, I guess going to the ladies room or something, and I’m left standing there with my papers buried under all of these paperclips.

JEFF
And?

MATT
And?  Waddya mean “and?”

JEFF
What did you do next?

MATT
I just walked away.  What else could I do?

JEFF
C’mon!  You just walked away?  Why?

MATT
Because Joanna left her desk.

JEFF
Well, why didn’t you take the papers?

MATT
You know I can’t just take papers off someone’s desk.  After what happened to that guy in the other office suite?

JEFF
Oh yeah.  Mr. Invasion of Everyone’s Desk.  Right.  (JEFF takes another mouthful of popcorn.) Dude, when are you gonna get a new job.  Your firm just gets crazier and crazier.

MATT
I know, I know.  Beth says the same thing.  She’s sick of hearing it.  She says we’ve been dating for eight months, and all I’ve said about my job is how awful it is.  She says that she’s worried that I’m going to be a miserable husband if we ever get married.

JEFF (suddenly all ears, fully engaged)
Married!  Whoa!  When did that word enter the picture?

MATT scrapes the bowl clean, licks the spoon.

JEFF
Matt?

MATT sets the bowl and spoon on the floor, and joins JEFF on the couch, kind of like he’s going to tell a secret.

MATT
I think I really like her.

JEFF
Yeah?

MATT
Yeah.  Like more than I really like to think about.

JEFF
Yeah?

MATT
Yeah!

JEFF
That’s great, Matt.  It’s really really great.  (He sets down the bowl of popcorn and turns to face him.  He’s forgotten the television.)

MATT
I mean I’m not asking her to marry me or anything.  Not yet.  I’m not ready for that yet.  Jesus!

JEFF
No, but this is really good news!  Patty said she thought something was going on.

MATT
Waddya mean?

JEFF
The last time we all went to dinner, Patty said that something was different between you two.  We came back here and you guys went to Beth’s place, and Patty said you seemed changed.  She said it was the way you were looking at Beth during dinner.

MATT
Really?  That’s kind of embarrassing.

JEFF
Nah, it’s just what happens.  Remember when the three of us went to the Knicks game, before you met Beth?

MATT
Which one?

JEFF
The one where we came home afterwards and you asked me all of those questions about the game, and I couldn’t remember?  You were like giving me such a hard time.  You told me I had it real bad.  That something had changed.  I remember thinking how good it felt when you noticed.

MATT
Felt good?

JEFF
Yeah.

MATT
How so?

JEFF
I was happy that you noticed.

MATT
You were?

JEFF
Yes, Matt.  You’re my best friend.  We’ve lived together for five years, since college.  I want you to notice those things.

MATT begins to get uncomfortable.

MATT
Uh, why?  Why do I need to notice those things?

JEFF
Because best friends are supposed to notice those kinds of things.

MATT
Jeff, this is getting a little weird, like a little girlie.

JEFF
What are you talking about?

MATT
I don’t know, it just feels a little—

JEFF
A little what?

MATT
It’s making me uncomfortable.  I feel like you’re like being all like—

JEFF
Like what?

MATT
I don’t know, like all—

JEFF
Like what?

MATT
Like all gay, OK?  Like it feels a little gay!

JEFF
Gay?

MATT
Yes, gay.

Silence

JEFF
Are you saying I’m gay?

MATT
I’m saying that this conversation is making me uncomfortable because when you tell me you wanted me to notice how into your girlfriend you were, it feels a little gay to me.  That’s all I’m saying.

MATT has not moved off of the couch.  Neither has JEFF.  There’s silence.

JEFF
Do you think I’m gay?

MATT
I didn’t say that.

JEFF
But you just said that what I said was gay.

MATT
No, actually I said it was feeling a little gay.  There’s a difference.

JEFF
What’s the difference?  Gay is gay.

MATT
I know you’re not gay, Jeff.  If you were gay, you would’ve tried to get with me a long time ago.

JEFF
Fuck you!

MATT
Seriously!  You know the gay guys always go for me.

JEFF
Whatever.

MATT
That gay guy in my office is always asking me these random questions about where I get my clothes.

JEFF
You are kind of a gay dresser.

MATT
What?

JEFF
You are!  All that Andrew Christian underwear you own?  That brand is so gay.

MATT
But who sees my underwear?

JEFF
Me.  Beth.  What does she say about it?

MATT
She likes it.  Although her gay friend Steve said the same thing when she told him I wore that underwear.  Apparently he asks her all sorts of questions about like what we do together and stuff.

JEFF
You mean like sexually?

MATT
Yeah.

JEFF
That’s fucked up.

MATT
That’s what I said, but Beth says that she gets a lot of pointers from Steve.

JEFF
Pointers?

MATT
Yeah.

JEFF
Like what kinds of pointers?

MATT
I don’t ask for the details.  I just go with the flow and enjoy the best sex I’ve ever had.

JEFF
So Beth has a gay sex coach.

MATT
I guess you could say that.

There’s silence as they take that in.

MATT (dawning on him)
Now, that’s really gay.

JEFF
Yeah, it is.

MATT and JEFF begin laughing, horsing around on the couch, wrestling a bit.  It builds in intensity, and MATT pins JEFF.  They’re laughing, out of breath, faces close together.  MATT is on top, looks at JEFF and puts his head down on JEFF’s chest, looking out.

JEFF
Uh…Matt?

MATT
Yeah?

JEFF
Are you OK?

MATT
Yeah, why?

Silence.  JEFF is visibly uncomfortable with this much physicality.

JEFF
I’m just a little confused?

MATT
What?  Does this feel funny to you?

JEFF
A little.

JEFF tries to sit up, but MATT keeps him pinned.

MATT
Just stay there.  Please?

JEFF
Why?

MATT
Sshhh.

JEFF
Matt?

MATT
Quiet.

JEFF
Why?

MATT
I want to hear your heartbeat.

JEFF is silent.

MATT
I can feel it, but I want to hear it.

MATT listens.

MATT (quietly)
There it is…

MATT rests his hand on JEFF’s chest.

MATT (quietly)
My brother and I used to do this when we were kids.  There’s a picture of us doing this together, when we were like 5.

JEFF has relaxed into this position.  He strokes MATT’s hair.  MATT closes his eyes.  Slowly, the two begin to breathe together.  The moment is not sexual.  It’s communal.  Connected.

MATT
I miss doing this.

JEFF
It’s nice.

MATT
Right?

JEFF
Surprisingly nice.

MATT
Hhmm…

JEFF
What would Patty say?

MATT
Or Beth?

Silence

JEFF
Is this gay, Matt?

MATT
I don’t think so.  Are you hard?

JEFF
No.  Are you?

MATT
Not in the least.  But it feels good.

JEFF
Really good.

Silence.  They are still breathing together.  The lights are beginning to fade in around them, isolating down onto the couch.

JEFF
Do you think we need to worry about this?

MATT
Worry about what?

JEFF
This.

MATT
Nah.  Are we doing something wrong?

JEFF
Well…?

MATT
I don’t think so.

JEFF
But…

MATT
Jeff, you’re my best friend, right?

JEFF
Yes.

MATT
We’ve been friends for eight years.

JEFF
Almost nine.

MATT
We’ve hugged before.

JEFF
Yes, but not like this.

MATT
We’ve been naked together.

JEFF
Sure, but that was skinny dipping on the beach in the dark.

MATT
And we’ve cried together.

JEFF has difficulty with this. He hesitates.

JEFF
Yes, we have.

MATT seems to hold on to JEFF more tightly.

MATT
So I don’t think this is anything that we have to worry about.

JEFF
Right.

MATT
Friends are allowed to hold each other.

JEFF
OK.

MATT
You’re like my brother.

JEFF
You are my brother.

MATT
Then why are you asking if this is ok?

(Pause)

JEFF
It is what it is.

MATT
Right.  OK?

JEFF
OK.

There’s silence again.  MATT closes his eyes.  JEFF takes a moment, preparing to speak.

JEFF
Matt?

MATT
Yeah?

JEFF
I— … I—

JEFF can’t get it out.

MATT
I already know.  I do too.

Lights fade to black as the two men hold each other on the couch.

“Open” field day on Newt Gingrich

 culture  No Responses »
Jan 192012
 

Today ABC News began releasing excerpts of an interview with Newt Gingrich’s second wife, Marianne, who alleges that Newt asked her to allow him to have a mistress while they stayed married.  When the interviewer asked her what she thought Newt was trying to say to her, Marianne, replied, “Oh, he was asking to have an open marriage, and I refused.”  Here’s a link to the CNN story, and a clip from the interview is below.

Now, I am no fan of Newt Gingrich.  In fact, I think he’s a triple hot mess.  However, I’m kind of disappointed in ABC News and the sensationalism that this whole story is prompting.  If we pay close attention to the way the story has been presented throughout the day, we’re supposed to believe that everyone is living in these chaste, monogamous relationships.  Yes, Newt Gingrich was having an affair with a woman who has subsequently become his third wife.  Not the best track record with the ladies, this guy Newt.  But must we take him down with this claim?  Aren’t there far better ways of taking him down?  I’m not sure this personal relationship stuff is really any of our business.

Last week an L.A bishop stepped down because he admitted to fathering two children.  Otherwise, when I read his bio online, he seemed to have accomplished some pretty amazing things.  Yes, he broke the rules.  I get that.  I just wonder about all the judging that we do.  Hypocritical?  Yes.  Creepy?  Yes.  Damaging to all of humanity?  Probably not.

Newt Gingrich’s quest for an open marriage is far less threatening than some of the other ideas that have come flying out of this mouth.  Let’s keep some perspective on what matters in this presidential race.  I guess the public has a right to know, but the public better be thinking about what this kind of information actually tells us about how a person might lead a country.  Integrity comes in all shapes and sizes, shades and colors, as does intelligence and passion.  Engaging in an open relationship does not automatically make someone have questionable integrity.  It’s lying and deception that calls integrity into question.

Please don’t vote for Newt Gingrich, but please think about what matters as we move forward with this interminable process of electing the President.

 

1st of 50 Plays in 2012: Lakeside Lullaby

 50 Plays  No Responses »
Jan 162012
 

I started this blog in January 2011 because I wanted to develop a writing practice.  The experience of keeping the blog has been gratifying for me, and I almost met my goal of writing at least once a week.  At the end of 2011, while I lost a bit of momentum, I still had a sense that I understood my writing process a bit more because of the blogging, and I also appreciated the ability to share my thoughts and ideas with an audience and get feedback from people on the ideas that I was working out through the writing process.

As I thought about new goals for 2012, I got a little stuck.  I knew that I wanted to keep writing, but I also knew that I wanted to expand the practice that I had already developed over the last year.  Then I had a cockroach incident at Whole Foods just ahead of New Years, and I wrote a Facebook post about it.  I wrote about what happened as a few lines of dialogue, and people totally responded to the story.  I’m sure that the response was largely because a roach crawled up my pant leg, but I think that the dialogue presentation also heightened the experience to some extent.  It gave me the idea to try writing a play a week for the duration of the year.  A short play mind you, but still a play a week.

This idea is not new.  Suzan-Lori Parks, the Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright of Topdog/Underdog, wrote 365 Days/365 Plays, essentially a collection of short plays where she wrote one play a day back in 2005, and those plays premiered throughout the United States in 2006 and 2007.  I am no Suzan-Lori Parks, so there’s no way that I can write a play a day.  However, a short play a week seems manageable, at least as I approach the top of the coaster hill.  And what I like about the idea is that it will force me to practice.  Right now, I only write plays when I need to.  By engaging in this challenge, I kind of have to follow through.  I hate not finishing projects, particularly when other people are paying attention.  So this is my very public way of holding myself accountable.

I will post one play a week on this blog for the remainder of 2012.  We have just entered the third week of the year, so that means 50 plays in 50 weeks.  The blog entries will fall under a new category, “50 Plays.”   The plays will be short;  I’m thinking 5-10 pages in WORD.  This week’s is just over 6 pages.  I have no idea what the subject matter might be, as I think I should just go with moves me.  If there’s a special thank you or inspiration for one, I’ll make sure to let you know.

If you have thoughts about what you read, make a comment.  If you want certain characters to show up again, tell me.  I’ll see what I can do.  I don’t intend this to be a serial, but who knows.  We’re at the beginning.  If you like what you read, share it out with your friends.  Facebook it, Tweet it, Woof it.  Whatever helps spread the word.

1 of 50:

Lakeside Lullaby

inspired by “Wish You Were Here” by The Sounds

SANDY sits on a bench alongside a lake in a small town, looking out over the water.  She’s in her early 30s, thin build, brown hair, dark eyes, sharp features.  She wears the clothes of a young, stay-at-home mom.  The lake is small with a fountain in the center to keep the algae from growing in the summer.  Streets surround the lake on three sides, and a railroad track is nearby. It’s about 3:00pm.  Quiet.  Overcast.

JERRY approaches the bench from behind.  He’s in his mid-30s, handsome, but tired looking, like he’s had a long life already.  He wears a shirt and tie, khakis, nice shoes.  But everything’s rumpled.  His eyes are very alive, clear, like they can see into the distance, much farther than the average person.  His eyes are ironic.

It’s warm and muggy, but not summer. More like early autumn.   JERRY speaks before SANDY sees him.

JERRY
How long have you been here?

SANDY (startled)
Jesus!

JERRY
Sorry.

SANDY
Why do you insist on doing that to me?

JERRY
Sorry, I-

SANDY
Every time I come here you do that to me!

JERRY
I said I was sorry.

SANDY
Yes.  Fine.  OK.

SANDY continues to look out at the water, not acknowledging JERRY.  They are both silent for a bit. 

JERRY
Uh, are you ready to go?

SANDY
What do you mean?

JERRY
Well, you’ve been gone for about two hours now.  I think it’s time to go back.

SANDY
Oh really?  You think it’s time to go back.  Have you been there?

JERRY
I have.

SANDY
Uh huh.  Is she still there?

JERRY
Yes, she is.

SANDY
Great.  Why do I have to go back then?

JERRY
Because she actually has other things to do.

SANDY
Like what?

JERRY
What do you think?  Sandy, come on!

SANDY
Don’t yell at me, Jerry.  You don’t have to yell at me.

JERRY
Well, don’t play dumb about what else my sister has to do.  Amy has her own kids to take care of.  Billy comes home and expects her to have dinner ready.  She’s got cleaning to do.  She’s got other things to do.  Her own things to do.

SANDY
I know all that.

JERRY
So if you know all that, why do you keep doing this?

SANDY
Doing what?

JERRY
Why are you making this so difficult?

SANDY
Making what difficult?  I don’t understand why you can’t understand why I do this.

JERRY
Understand why you do this?

SANDY
Yes.

JERRY
Understand why you leave our eleven-month-old child sleeping in her crib in the middle of the afternoon with the windows open?  Why you then proceed to walk out the front door and down five blocks to this bench?  Understand why you then call my sister on her cell phone and tell her that you’ve left the baby, again?  She goes running over there like a maniac, and she finds the front door wide open, NPR playing on the living room, and Laine not in her crib, but in the kitchen.  Crying.  She calls me at work and I come running home, again, and we both know exactly where you are.

SANDY
So why did you bother coming home?  Why didn’t she just come get me?

JERRY
You are unbelievable.

JERRY goes to the edge of the lake and begins to pick up rocks and tries to skim them across the surface.

SANDY
If you knew where I was, why did you come running home?

JERRY
Because you left our child alone.  Again.  For the third time, Sandy.

SANDY is silent.

JERRY
Why are you doing this?

SANDY doesn’t answer.

JERRY goes and sits at the other end of the bench.  SANDY will not look at him.

JERRY
I’m serious, Sandy.  You’ve left Laine in the house alone three times in the past month.  Every time you do it, you call Amy and give her a heart attack.  I’ve asked her not to tell anyone, but she’s starting to get really freaked out.

SANDY
It’s a small town, Jerry.

JERRY
And?

SANDY
No one’s going to hurt Laine if I go out for a little bit in the afternoon while she’s napping.

JERRY
Are you telling me that you think this is acceptable behavior?

SANDY
Yes.

JERRY
Then why do call Amy when you do it?

SANDY
Somebody’s got to know that I’m leaving.

JERRY
Then why don’t you call me?

SANDY doesn’t answer.

JERRY
Did you hear what I said?

SANDY
Yes.

JERRY
Then why don’t you call me?

SANDY
I don’t know.

JERRY is losing his patience.  A train whistle blows in the distance.

JERRY
Sandy, why are you doing this to me?  Why are you doing it to Laine?

SANDY
I told you I don’t know.

JERRY
I don’t believe you.

SANDY
Fuck you.

JERRY
Nice.  Lovely sentiment, Sandy.  Same to you.

JERRY gets up to go.

SANDY
Please, Jerry?

JERRY
What?

SANDY
Please just sit here with me for another minute?  Please?

JERRY
Why?

SANDY
Because if you just sit here with me, maybe you’ll understand why I come here.

A train whistle blows again, but it’s closer this time.  JERRY sits.  Reluctantly.

SANDY
Laine would not stop crying this afternoon after lunch.  She just kept crying.  I think she’s getting a tooth.

JERRY
Yeah, Amy said she’s really chewing her hand.

SANDY
Uh huh.  And her eyes are a little puffy.  A little feverish.

JERRY
Is she sick?  Do you think she should go to the doctor?

SANDY
No, Jerry.  It happens.  Babies get teeth.  We all get teeth.  And it hurts.

JERRY
So she was just fussy?

SANDY
Fussy is a bit of an understatement.  Screaming bloody murder is more accurate.

JERRY
Is that why you left?  You couldn’t take the screaming?

SANDY
No, she stopped screaming.  She eventually went to sleep.

JERRY
Why did you leave her then?

SANDY doesn’t say anything for a bit.  She takes a deep breath and for the first time turns to face JERRY.

SANDY
Jerry, when was the last time you and I had a conversation alone like this?

JERRY
Sandy, what are you saying?

SANDY
A conversation where you actually listened to me and weren’t so preoccupied with the baby, or with work, or your family?

JERRY thinks about it for awhile.

SANDY
Jerry?

JERRY
It was the last time you left Laine alone like this. But I don’t—

SANDY
And the time before that?

Silence

JERRY
The first time you left Laine alone.

The train whistle blows right next to them.  The sound of a train passing, clanging bells, rumbling wheels. It’s loud.  SANDY looks at JERRY, leans in, kisses him gently, as a reminder of who they are, gets up and walks back in the direction from where JERRY entered.  JERRY is left alone on the bench as the train continues to pass.  He looks out at the lake as the train whistle blows. Loudly.  Lights out.

 

In the trenches

 creativity  No Responses »
Jan 082012
 

Working on a new play for the University of North Carolina at Charlotte.  Working title is Project | Hope, although I’m “hoping” (ha ha) that changes by the time the play is presented in April.  It might not, which will be fine, but the working title describes a concept, and I’m hoping that soon it will be more of an actual story, rather than simply a concept.

Hope is not an easy topic to write on, talk about, or think about.  That’s the biggest piece of learning for me so far.  And it’s also a topic that doesn’t inspire the happiest of thoughts or memories for people.  The first draft of the play consisted of 60+ pages of interview transcriptions culled from interviews conducted by the students that I worked with at UNC-Charlotte, as well as three interviews that I conducted.  The students selected the pieces from their interviews that they felt were compelling and needed to be heard by an audience, and then I further vetted those selections, along with my own, piecing together a script.  The first reading of that script revealed a number of things, the most important being that the entire piece was too heavy.  However, the search for ways to lighten the load of the topic has not been easy, and I continue to struggle.

I’m also now writing a frame for the play and using the interview transcriptions in a way that I’ve never done before.  It’s truly painful.  I feel like I’m betraying all of the work I’ve done before.  My past work with interviews has been rigorously faithful to what was uttered by the interview subject.  This project is forcing me to push against my own boundaries and beliefs about form and content.  I get angry.  My chest tightens.  I feel sick.  I stall.  I have lots of ideas in my head, lots of images, lines of spoken or typed text.  It’s just not coming out so easily.  Start the Pitocin drip, people.

Here’s what I do know.  Hope is slippery.  Hard to pin down.  Hope is also not as happy a concept as I thought.  Now what that means for this play, I don’t know.

For the play, I know that book shelves have stories and secrets that lie deep behind the books sitting on the shelves.  Knowledge goes deeper than anything trapped in a book.  It’s just about finding it.  What lies behind the traditional knowledge, knowledge that we sanctify and hold up as truth, is often more important than tradition.

Follow along here.  I may post more.  But thanks for reading all the same.

On turning 4-0 and welcoming the New Year

 culture  No Responses »
Jan 012012
 

I realize that it’s been entirely too long since I posted to this blog.  I had every intention of making at least one entry in the month of December, but I was unsucessful.  The month of December used to be filled with excitement and anticipation for the holidays, but now the month flies by with obligations, final classes, and an avalanche of papers and projects to mark.  I refuse to carry my grading process into the holidays (or past my birthday if possible), and this causes a packed 7-10 days of high volume work.  The weeks following Thanksgiving feel like a whirlwind sprint to the finish.

As I mentioned, my birthday falls within that sprint, on December 22, and 2011 marked my 40th birthday.  We celebrated a bit early with a great party with family and friends here in NYC on December 10, and then the day itself was mostly quiet reflection with another gathering that evening where friends celebrated three of us born on December 22.

I anticipated that turning 40 might be traumatic.  There’s so much mythology about that age and getting old and being over the hill and whatever else people believe.  But I have to say that so far, 4-0 feels pretty great.  I don’t feel old at all, and I feel like I’m actually in better physical, mental, and emotional shape than I’ve ever been before.  It’s a nice feeling.  When I was younger, people used to comment that I read more mature than my age, and in some ways I feel like I’ve finally caught up to myself.  I feel less inclined to apologize for what I think or know to be true.  I’m less self-conscious about many things, and that in itself has far-reaching effects for the way I live my life overall.

On this first day of 2012, I find myself excited for the next phase of my life.  I’ve got lots on my plate this year, which is not new, but I’m truly excited about the possibilities spreading out before me at the start of this new personal decade.  One of my main goals for the year is stop catastrophizing so much, assuming that the worst possible outcome will occur in whatever situation happens to be at hand.  I’ve worked on this for awhile, but I hope to make even more headway in 2012.  Honestly, with the Iowa caucuses looming, it’s difficult not to catastrophize, but let’s see what happens.  If nothing else, we’re in for an entertaining political year!

Here’s to 4-0, a great 2012, and health and prosperity for all!