Friday, June 15, 2007

an interesting play i came across.. "If you wanna wanna be alive" Durga Chew-Bose Durga Chew-Bose wrote this play in 6 hours for a school drama festival while studying at the Armand Hammer United World College in Montezuma, New Mexico. SCENE 1 A girl named Smith. Sitting on the edge of the stage. Maybe some chill jazz playing in the background. Talking to the audience the whole time. Smith-What would you do? What would you do if you had one day? What would you do if you had one day to live? Would you go to a bar, and buy as many drinks as you can, and trip on dialogue with a bartender who's never met you-Bullshit your life to him and create stories about loves you've never had, and places you've only seen in faded vacation magazines that lie in the waiting room of the hospital. Or get into your car, turn on the ignition, and drive. Drive until you run out of gas.--Until your tank decides your destination-sitting on the hood of your car, blowing smoke at the stars, watching it dance out of your lips…and waiting. OR, you could always just buy a disposable camera, and take pictures of your favorite places. Like the park bench just by your house, or the jazz section of the audio department in the library where you would spend countless hours not thinking.--Once the role was done, you could mail it to the person who sees you the most, but knows you the least-your neighbor. Now at least, he would know you. She looks down at her hands, and then pulls a gun out of her jacket pocket. Smith-I didn't do any of those things. What I did do was buy a gun. SCENE 2 Smith walks into the local radio station. Still talking to the audience, but doing the actions she describes. Example: walking in with gun while talking to the audience, radio station people running out, walking into the glass enclosed DJ room, putting headphones on, and locking the door. -All the while talking to the audience. Smith: So I guess what I did was a little much like a Quentin Tarantino, seventies music inspired scene. I walked into the local radio station, kicked everyone out, and locked myself in a room full of LPs, and one hit wonders. Looks at the audience, then her gun, and then back at the audience Smith: It's funny how people listen to you when you've got a 9mm gripped between your fingers. Enters the janitor, Beverly, unaffected by Smith and her gun, and the commotion-sweeping the floor, with headphones on and humming some old school Motown hit. Smith sees her outside the disk jockey room-bangs on the window, shows her the gun. Beverly takes off her headphones, and slowly puts down the broom. Smith looks at the audience. Scratches her head a little with the gun. Smith: what would you do? What would you do if the tick tock of time was like fate on your wrist? She throws her gun down and opens the door for Beverly. Beverly enters; Smith looks at her nametag and introduces herself. Beverly looks nervous, the whole time. Smith: I'm Smith, and you're Beverly. And I'm taking over for now. And I promise you we won't be strangers by the end of the night. Beverly: I'm just here to sweep floors, and rub coffee stains off the tables. Smith grins. Looks around the room. Touches the records in the shelves. And grins again. Smith: Are you telling me you never indulge in a little Stones, or Marvin Gaye while cleaning coffee stains. And as she puts her headphones on, she sings, and picks up the broom, and dances around the room. And sings a little to the audience. "let's get it on" is playing. Smith: "I've been really trying baby, trying to hold back that feeling for so long…and if you feel, like I feel baby." Beverly grins. And joins in. Smith: See I told you. How many strangers, have you done that with before…we're practically life long friends now. Smith looks at the audience. Smith: oh, the irony in 'life long' Beverly picks up the broom, and continues cleaning. Smith sits back down puts on the headphones and starts her broadcast. Smith: ok let's do this. "Live from 107. 3 KISS radio- this is my life in song. -- -commercial free beats that capture the first album you ever bought, your last day as a virgin, and the one song that would kick your ass out of bed on Monday mornings. I guess you could say the soundtrack, to my life. This is Smith, and I'm not taking requests. This is fiction, based on the greatest story ever told." She looks at Beverly, and puts on CCR "Have you ever seen the rain?" Smith takes off the headphones, and sits back. Smith: See Bev…I can call you that right? Beverly still a little apprehensive, and eyeing the gun, nods yes… (CCR is still playing softly in the background) Smith: I first heard this song one morning when I was sixteen sitting on my balcony hammock reading. Suddenly drops of water started soaking my pages. I looked up, and saw my hippie upstairs neighbor watering her plants, and not paying attention to what she was doing. She was dancing and shaking her head back and forth, and singing along. When I looked down at my page, it was soaked-and I could no longer read anything. I don't even remember the book I was reading. But I remember thinking I love living in apartments-with hippie neighbors off course. Beverly looks up from her sweeping, and leans her chin against her broom. Beverly: you know, when I hear this song, I think about the time I got my first car. I was so excited at the time that I made a mix tape right away. The thing is, I was too impatient at the time to actually make a whole mix, so I only recorded that song. I climbed into my car, and played it on repeat. I got sick of it pretty fast. And so did my neighborhood, because I was still too scared to drive on the highway, so I just drove in circles around my block. I retired that song pretty early. Smith grins, and puts the headphones back on. Bev goes back to cleaning. The phone rings. Smith answers. All of the conversation on the radio. Smith: Smith here. And Beverly too. And our memories of first cars and apartment fever. Anything I can help you with? Any triggered memory you would like to share? Woman on other line. Really loud and drunk. Her name is Shirley. Shirley: Actually, you can help me. I've drunk too much, and can't see straight. Or walk straight. But your music is good for me-good for me right now. It's better than conversation. Or infomercials on TV, I've already bought one blender, and two ab workout tapes, that I'll regret tomorrow morning. -Anyways, so what gives with you DJing the late night program? I've never heard you before. Smith: Funny story, I walked into the station with a gun, and took over the radio waves. Something I've always wanted to check off on my to-do list before I die. That and kiss someone under water, and write a book. Smith laughs, and looks at Beverly who laughs too. Smith: no, I just lying, but not about kissing somebody under water. Shirley screams into the phone drunkenly. Shirley: I've kissed somebody under water once. I sneaked into my neighbor's pool with my boyfriend. We were making so much noise, that the neighbors woke up, and came outside. We dove underwater, and he kissed me. It wasn't romantic. And it was hard to do. Not like the fucking movies. Nope. She pauses-and yells back into the phone. Shirley: I should make a to-do list too. Because if I don't, I'll end up drunk every night, buying blenders for the rest of my life! Smith looks at the audience. Smith: If only everyone had nothing better to do than to buy blenders. Smith puts her headphones back on. Smith: Ok, to anyone who's still listening. To anyone who has a to-do list. Here's a little Dylan. Plays Dylan's "Don't think twice it's alright" (not too loud, and not too soft) All three of the women go back to their respective parts. Shirley channel surfs, with the phone still against her ear, and glass next to her. She looks at the empty glass, and then back at the TV. Smith, looks at her watch. She sighs a couple times. Looks around at all the records. Doesn't smile. The song fades. (Not the whole song played) Beverly brooms toward the audience, and has a short monologue. Bev: I know what would be number one on my to-do list. I would buy a car. A car with tinted windows. I've always wanted a car with tinted windows. Whenever I see a car with tinted windows, I'm always so curious as to who's inside. I would love to be somebody's intrigue, just for once. Beverly returns to cleaning, but isn't as concentrated as she was before. As the Dylan song fades, all three characters return to their original parts. Shirley: You still there? That song sobered me up a little. Actually, the memories are what did it. I'd forgotten about the history music brings. I'd forgotten about the high I would get. Like the buzz you get from a good conversation. Like the one we're having right now. It's been a long time since I've had some good dialogue. You know? Smith: yup. Smith looks at her watch. A lot more. She starts to get more tired. "Hallelujah"-Jeff Buckley starts to play. Shirley: So I'm getting a little tired. And I think I might have good dreams tonight. With an even better soundtrack. Thank you for that, Smith. For the first time, in a long time, I want to wake up early. You know, so I can feel the crisp morning. And taste the day. Smith: Peace. Shirley….oh wait, Shirley, if you had one theme song, what would it be? Shirley: Tiny dancer-Elton John. They both hang up. Beverly talks to the audience. Bev: You know I swept the same spot for a couple hours tonight. You know I never thought I was going to have a gun pointed to me tonight. You know, I haven't thought about my first car in a very long time. Sometimes we create non-existent nostalgia to make us smile. But tonight it was real. She puts her broom down and turns off the lights. Smith is left sitting in the dare-with her headphones still on. The only light is coming from the street lamp outside. She signs off the radio with this monologue. Waits a good while before she starts her monologue. Smith: What would you do if you only one day to live? Would you spend time with the ones that love you? Would you confront your greatest fear? Would you confess your love? Would you spend the night with two strangers? I would. So many things I've done, I regret. Regret stings. But tonight was damn good. And like in the end of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid, when Redford and Newman run out, and time freezes, I'm signing off. Remember, this was fiction based on the greatest story ever told. Fuck it. This was so cliché. She takes off the headphones, looks around the room, and picks up the gun, and stares at it for a while. She gets up and turns her back to the audience. BLACKOUT. And fade out of Jeff Buckley.