Scroll down for the previous days
(For a somewhat complete list of all the monologues with blurbs, click here)
Small print - A few words about 'free' -  all these monologues are protected under copyright law - the date of the post - and these are free to read, free to perform and video AS LONG AS NO MONEY IS CHARGED.  Once you want to charge admission or a donation, or include my work in an anthology, you need to contact me at [email protected] for royalty info.  These monologues - and all my writing -are protected as follows - All rights reserved under the Berne and Pan-American copyright convention.
But I will be happy to give permission to do a video for youtube, as long as I receive credit - like Tori Langley did (Click here for THE TOWEL LADY THE TOWEL LADY.)

Day # 16      

*****Parent alert - strong language, cursing**********

                                         Solitary (Scene 3) 
                                                 by Janet S. Tiger 
                                    © Feb. 28, 2014  all rights reserved 
                                             [email protected]

(Lights up – it is noon, full sunshine, and we see him- same guy as in Day# 11 sitting on his cot, eating a sandwich.  There is a sound at the door and he takes the tray and remains of the food to the slot in the door and slides it through.  He listens for the guard to leave, then removes his prison uniform, standing again in only his boxers.  He looks up at the ceiling.)

Free at last, free at last, oh, Lord ahmighty, I’m a free at last!

Well that was an unusual lunch – instead of eating the sandwich first, I..I ate the bologna in the sandwich and left the cheese in the bread, so it was like a new lunch.  Good idea, huh, God?  I’m just fulla good ideas.

            (He holds a pencil up towards the sun, noting the shadow.)

I..I’ll wait a full hour before I..I swim…..so I..I don’t get cramps! 

            (Listens)

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t so funny…..you got better?  Actually, come to think of it, you do….

            (He pulls out the Bible and looks up a page he has turned down.)

I..I wanted to ask you about this….

            (Reads from the Bible)

“As a dog returns to its vomit, so a fool repeats his folly. –Peter 2:22”

So,  God, because I..I made so many mistakes, I..I’m supposed to be like a dog?  Is that the idea, God?  Well, you probably already saw that I..I I..I never was into vomit!  (Smiling)  Although I..I have been known to eat my own snot, but in my defense, I..I was a lot younger then! 

(Laughs)  And if you didn’t see it yourself, I..I bet my mother told you!

            (More serious, there’s something here he obviously does not want to talk about) 

I..I don’t think it’s so funny, you know….Look, I..I told you I..I would rather make jokes than talk about the other stuff…..

            (Listens, turns away, quieter, to himself)

Sometimes, God, I..I just wanna tell you to shut up the fuck up…..

            (Looks up quickly)

I..I didn’t really mean that….

            (To himself, again)

Yes, I..I did…..

            (Up at God, again)

I..I guess I..I just can’t fool you, can I..I?

            (He goes to his cot and reaches under the pillow, brings out an envelope,             which he looks at for a long time before opening.)

Amazing – I..I don’t get one visitor for- how long is it?  One year, two years?  When did my sister come, to tell me mom was ok after the fall, her hip had healed up just fine?  I..I was still tweakin’, so time didn’t mean anything…..

            (He opens the envelope, reads, nods)

Yeah, I..I figured.

             (Takes deep breath, puts the letter on the cot and suddenly squats down              and starts doing frantic push-ups.)

I..I know I..I said …would…wait an ….hour, but I..I need this!.....

            (Finishes, gets up, breathing deeply.)

How the hell did she get to visit?  I..I mean, I..I have to put in a request!

It takes a couple of months!  How can she be coming……tomorrow!

            (He picks up the paper again, really reading it this time.)

(Slowly, like it’s finally sinking in.) “Visitors who have traveled over 250 miles due to a family emergency.  (Snorts in derision)  What emergency did she pick this time?  And how did she get off parole so fast?  She can’t visit until she’s off parole! 

            (He goes to his wall and looks at the marks.)

Has it been that long?  Maybe she is done with it.  She’s probably still using…..but she always did know how to get ‘righteous pee’ as we used to call it – good urine for the tests.  She even had some weird device she got online, so when they watched her, it looked like she was peeing, but for real, the ‘clean stuff’ was up inside her, and she would pass, even though she was blazed!   And they say drugs make you stupid!

But how did she get me to request the visit?  I..I mean, how did that happen….

            (He looks again at the wall, starts to remember)

Is it possible?  I..I was pretty blazed myself a few months ago, could I..I have been so out of it, that I..I (hard for him to say) wanted her?

            (He shudders, walks around the cell, rubbing his arms to warm up.)

Maybe, it was when I..I was really bad…they gave me something to calm me down, and I..I had nightmares for days…..

(Laughs)  Nightmares for days…..kind of strange……that must’ve been it….I..I don’t remember anything those couple of weeks.

(Snorts again)  So she’s gonna be here tomorrow…

            (Reads from the paper)

“Arriving between 7:30 and 8am.  If you are permitted a contact visit, please note the new rules about touching…….due to the recent discovery of contraband, hand-holding is no longer permitted.  Prisoners and visitors who have had contact visits may again share a brief kiss and/or hug at the end of the visit. Any further touching may result in termination of the visit, and permission for further visits may be rejected.”

(Laughs, sad this time) “Any further touching….. Touching.  I..I remember the first time …I..I kissed Annie.  The first time we…..touched.  (Deep sigh, remembers)  We were a lot younger then.  That was a million miles of meth ago….Why didn’t we just stay with dope?  Things might’ve been easier……Of course, she got pregnant when we were stoned…..She used to be so pretty….so young…..

            (He now goes to his cot, looks around, takes out from a secret place what is obviously a    small photo, stares at it.)

We went to Canobie Lake Park together, up in Salem, and got these photos taken in one of those booths…..that was… …before she was…pregnant….. before all the shit…..sorry, God, but it was a lot of sh…crap……Not Jody, he’s a good kid, God is he 11?  I..I’m 30, so he must be…..did I..I send him a card on his last birthday?  Did I..I call him?  Did I..I think of him…..I..I hope so.

            (He holds his head in his hands)

I…I don’t want to see her.

God, you know all she wants!  She just wants money!   And we both know I..I have no money, so I know she wants me to get some from my family.  My family who doesn’t want to know me.  (Smiles)  For somebody so stupid, I sure know a lot!

            (Listens, shakes his head, turns away)

Yes, God, I..I know Jody’s mine – he’s the best thing we ever did together…..(Quiet) And ..I..I was the only guy she was with …back then.

(Hard to say)  I..I didn’t share her with Eddie until after she was pregnant……(deep breath)…and we didn’t share her with the other guys until we really needed money…..

Annabelle…..that’s her real name – her father was an English teacher and he loved Edgar Allen Poe.  But we called her Annie…except on the street.  Then we called her Belle…(bitter)  ..that was Eddie’s idea….guys will pay a few bucks more for someone named (says it fancy)  ‘Belle’ rather than (says it ordinary)  …Annie.

(He is trying not to lose it)  Annie….how could I..I do those things to you?  Let you do those things to yourself?.....How can I..I ever forgive myself for all that?

(Quiet)  How can you ever forgive me?

            (He takes the paper, and finds a small pencil under his cot.)

Tomorrow, you’ll be here tomorrow……I..I’ll see you ….tomorrow.

            (He signs the paper, and puts in the slot by the door. 
              Lights down, scene 3)

Scroll down for the previous days
(For a somewhat complete list of all the monologues with blurbs, click here)
Small print - A few words about 'free' - I mean that these are free to read, free to perform and video AS LONG AS NO MONEY IS CHARGED.  Once you want to charge admission or a donation, or include my work in an anthology, you need to contact me at [email protected] for royalty info.  These monologues - and all my writing -are protected as follows - All rights reserved under the Berne and Pan-American copyright convention.
But I will be happy to give permission to do a video for youtube, as long as I receive credit - like Tori Langley did (Click here for THE TOWEL LADY THE TOWEL LADY.
Like my work?  Want to support a playwright and get  more great  award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com


                   Lost and Profound (c)
                                   by Janet S. Tiger
                         (c) Feb. 27, 2014 all rights reserved
                                       [email protected]

(The stage is dark - night - with a starry sky if production has one of those kid's toys - and a woman comes out.  She is older, but in the dark, it is hard to tell how old.  She is carrying a pair of large binoculars around her neck, and, in one arm, a chair, which she puts down in the middle of the stage.

This is 'T' -  a character from THE BOOK OF TEAS - Each ‘chapter’ of T’s stories ends with the sound – ‘tea’, hence - ‘Book of Teas’ and this monologue will be called 'Night Tea' and included as soon as I figure out where it goes.

T puts the binoculars up to her eyes and looks for a moment, takes a deep breath of appreciation.  She has a thick Southern accent.)

Daddy, you were right, God does put on a good show.

            (She turns to look back)

You can sit over there and watch me from the shade, Ella, I don't care.

            (Listens)

I know it's nighttime - my brain is not that far gone - I was tryin' to make a joke, Ella!

  Anyhow, I am going to watch the stars - right out here on the lawn, with all the mosquitoes and other night critters.

Remember one of those sillies from when the kids were little?  What kind of toes bite you?  Mos-key-toes.  (Laughs, by herself)  They were always a hoot when the kids said 'em!

            (Puts the binoculars up to her eyes again.)

I remember the fight we had when Harry bought these - too expensive, I said - you have binoculars.  But he always liked to get the best - that's how he always won those arguments!  For the Glenmorangie whiskey, and the Westinghouse refrigerator...,......and the Cadillac!  I would complain about the cost, and he would say, (mimics)  'But honey, it's the best!  You know I never settle for less than the best - that's why I married you, remember?'  And he would look at me that way, with that smile, and give me a little squeeze.....and that would be the end of the argument.

He was a man who knew how to butter up a woman like a just-out-of-the-oven  biscuit.........(sighs, smiles)  But it sure tasted good when he did.....

             (Turns to the sky, looks up)

Never understood why people like telescopes – never could see a single thing in them except my own eye!  And you have to bend over to look – no, these binoculars are much better.

            (To the sky, where she imagines Harry is listening)

So you were right about that, stop gloating!

             (She smiles and looks at the expanse again.)

(Remembering)  My father used to take us out campin and fishin in the summer.  He taught me to use the sky like a map, he would say - 'the night sky is a map you can use whenever you get lost - and you can't lose it - all you have to do is look up.'

And I would ask...(little girl)  but Daddy, what about when it's cloudy or rainin or snowin?

(As father)  'Then you'd best not be outside!' 

(Back to herself)  I think he knew the stars because he had to - when he was runnin hooch during the Prohibition, he had to know how to get around fast......boy, could that man drive fast!  And yet I was never afraid - he was the best driver I ever saw.

            (She puts down the binoculars and closes her eyes, as if she could see and hear her            father.)

He used to say, ‘People  are funny.  They look at the night sky and they’re always askin questions – what am I doin’ here?  What is the purpose of it all?  Where do I fit in to all of this?  All that crap – and it’s all about them.  They seem small, irrelevant….well, T, I want you to remember somethin’ – things are not always all about you!  At night, it’s simple - when you look up at the sky, it’s like you are lookin into God’s soul.’  (Laughs)  I think running bootleg whiskey taught him more religion than a hundred years of Sunday school ever could!

            (Laughs, remembering, then quiets a bit)

Do you know why I am out tonight?  Outside of annoyin you like I am sure you believe, Ella.

I want to see where all those new planets are.

The ones on the news!  Don't you remember, or were you asleep as usual?

(Exited)  There is a big, new discovery!  They found a whole bunch of planets, just like ours - or so they tell us.

Amazin!

(Thinking)  How did they find 'em?  Were they lost?   Like keys?  Or my purse?  Maybe they were just misplaced.....or maybe, just maybe, they finally figured out where to look.

That is the most important element in findin somethin - havin a good idea where to look for it.

In fact, it is the secret to findin things.

So where were they lookin before, I would like to know.

Like the man under the street light - remember that one Ella?  One night, a fellow sees a man down on his hands lookin for somethin under a streetlight.

The fellow starts looking, too, and says, 'What did you lose?'

And the man says, ' a nickel'

After they look for a few minutes, the fellow says, 'I don't think it's here - where did you drop it?'

'Over there' the man replies, pointing to the dark.

'Then why are we lookin over here?'

The light's better over here.

How much like life is that?

Maybe the folks lookin now for those planets are professionals - pros - and that's why they found those planets.  They knew where to look.  They took a flashlight and walked away and shined that light where it had never been before.

My daddy always said - if you don't know what to do - don't dilly-dally around! Use a professional.   Pay them a fair amount, and get the job done.  I just loved that word dilly-dally.  He could say that twenty times and I would laugh till I wet my pants!

I just got it, Ella - the planets were lost and then they were found by pros – (says it slowly, relishing the idea) ….Lost and Pro-found……  Maybe I will put that into a chapter - and call it......Profundi-Tea.....or maybe......Night Tea. ........Hard to decide......I like 'em both.....


Speakin of which, I am getting tired – all this lookin at the stars and thinkin, it makes me want to put on my ‘night-tee’ and go to sleep!

            (She picks up the chair, then turns to listen)

All right, I’ll leave it for tomorrow.  Then of course we will forget we left it out here and go crazy lookin for it – just like the planets they lost! 

(Stops to think)  I wonder – if there are people on those planets – and do they have a God?  And is it the same God – or is that the whole point of just one God?  And more important – have they figured out how you can find things quickly!  Or better yet, how to never lose anything…….or anyone.....


            (She takes one last look at the stars.)

Good night, Daddy – thank you for teachin me about the soul of God.

            (She exits.  End of scene)









Janet S. Tiger    858-274-9678
www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

This is connected to the monologue Solitary, Day #11, Feb. 23, 2014 - hope to make it into a one-act after a couple more monologues!

Scroll down for the previous days
(For a somewhat complete list of all the monologues with blurbs, click here)
Small print - A few words about 'free' - I mean that these are free to read, free to perform and video AS LONG AS NO MONEY IS CHARGED.  Once you want to charge admission or a donation, or include my work in an anthology, you need to contact me at [email protected] for royalty info.  These monologues - and all my writing -are protected as follows - All rights reserved under the Berne and Pan-American copyright convention.
But I will be happy to give permission to do a video for youtube, as long as I receive credit - like Tori Langley did
Click here for THE TOWEL LADY THE TOWEL LADY.
Like my work?  Want to support a playwright and get  more great  award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com                             

                            Solitary (scene 2) 
                                        by Janet S. Tiger 
                            (c) copyright all rights reserved Feb. 26, 2014
                                       [email protected]


(A woman is seen.  She is sturdy, and she is in her seventies, but looks younger.  She is holding a pruning sheers or big clippers - something to prune a tree with - and she is dressed appropriately.  She has a thick Northeast accent - Boston roots - and she is tough.

She looks around, up at the tree, takes a deep sigh.)

Well, God, you and I are going to have our last little talk.   Maybe not last, but last out heah by this tree.  Me cutting, you listening.

It's worked for a long time, hasn't it?  I think of all the things I will miss about this house, this tree - and our little talks - will be be one of the biggest.

Forty-five years, God, has it been that long?  You would know, I'm starting to forget so many things.

            (She clips a bit, looks at what she's done)

Like the name of this tree....what is it called?

            (She clips furiously, trying to get the clipping to help her)

I remember when we bought this place, James and I, after he got the job as the local sheriff here, and they gave him an advance enough to put the down payment on.  Julie was a baby......and I was pregnant with Sophia.  (Smiles as she remembers)  This tree was no bigger than I was, and for the first two years it didn't grow one inch.

I thought it was because it was cold during those horrible winters, so I would cover it up with blankets and try to keep it warm.  Those first years, I remember them with great fondness.

And then one day, I think it was a couple, maybe three years after we were here, I was pregnant with Tammy, I think, and I started talking to the postman, when he drove through.  There weren't many people out around here then, not like now, with it all built up with the fancy places from all those rich people who like to have a home in country for skiing, so they buy and raise the prices and then they visit twice a year.

Where was I, God?  Oh yes, the postman, and he and I started to become friends, because, often he was the only adult I would see for a couple of days, if I didn't go into town to shop.  He was a nice man, Mr.....(searches for the name)....oh, you remember him, God, Mr......it'll come to me.  and I told him that I was worried about the tree, it had not grown since we moved in. 

And he told me that it hadn't grown since it had been planted by the first owners!  I said, well, so that means it will never grow?  I would like a shade tree here in my front yard.  And he told me what to do to prune it, and I have been doing that for years now, with good result.

            (She illustrates as she becomes Mr........she'll recall the name later)

(Very masculine) "This is a good tree, strong, able to handle the cold.  But you have to prune it properly.  You have to remove all the down-facing, branches.....like this..."

            (She is still Mr. .....and she cuts more forcefully)

"Even if they go up after, if they start down, cut them off right here at the branch...."

            (Shows again)

"And if you keep at it, the top branches will grow without the burden of being dragged down.  And it will bear a lovely apple in a few yeahs, and it will grow, but not too high and it will live a long time and make a lot of nice shade for your children to play under."

            (Back to herself)

Why didn't he tell the other people how to do this?

            (As Mr.....)

"They never asked!"

            (She laughs, then stands straight up.  She has remembered something.)

Mr. Farris!  His name was Mr. Farris!  And the people we bought from were the Wilkins!  And the name of the tree.......

            (Stops, looks puzzled)

Now, that I can't seem to recahl.......I will have to ask Julie, she never forgets a thing, that girl. 

            (She cuts again, then stops)

One more week.  Then the escrow will close, and we will have 45 days to move.  I asked for 45 because one day for each year is fair, I think.

Of course, the escrow may not go through.  Sometimes that happens.  But it's rare, and I do not expect anything odd to happen.  So this will be my last prune.

Tammy asks me why I am doing all this cleaning up and yard work when I will be gone.  I told her, this is still my home, and I like it to look nice while I am here.  It is still a lovely home.

I do not want to remember it all fallen down, broken.

            (She looks up, sees something, laughs)

My son, you remember him, God?  JJ - Jimmy Jr.  He used to try and play up here, and I wouldn't let him!  These branches were too weak, not strong as the oak - but he would sneak up here, until he fell out one day on his arm, broke it in three places.  Did that stop him?  No.  Did he evah listen?  No.  Did he evah eat his vegetables.....we both know the answer, God!  (Shakes her head)  Nooooo!

Maybe it was my fault, I mean, he was the youngest, and I let the girls spoil him.  I mean they watched out for him, but they spoiled him good - or bad if it be known.

He thought he could get away with anything.

And maybe that was my fault, too.  He would smile at me with those big blue eyes....and i could forgive him almost anything.

(As a mother)  But vegetables are good for you, Jimmy!  God made vegetables to keep us healthy! You have to eat something green everyday to stay healthy....

(As a little boy)  But, mommy, I do eat something green every day - I eat my snot!

I never thought I'd say it, but I'm glad James was gone when all this happened.

It was bad enough when the sheriff's own son got in trouble, but this....this was different.

(Suddenly realizing something)  Oh, my God!  I just figured it out!  James had the first attack right after we got that call from Oregon, that Jimmy Jr was arrested.  It wasn't immediately after, but a few months.  Oregon is not Massachusetts, and James couldn't go to his friends to get Jimmy loose that time, no, it was for real, a DUI with drugs in the vehicle.

We got an attorney to argue it was the other guy's marijuana, but everyone knew the truth.  And then he jumped the bail, and we lost our $25,000 bond - the money for our anniversary cruise.  Europe, the Mediterranean, it all would have been first class.

            (Holds her head in her hands)

I may have been wrong this time, too. He was selling those awful drugs....selling!   (Anguished)  But how could I let him rot for 40 years?  I mean, five years is enough.  That's not easy in the Federal system.  So we got the best lawyer this mortgaged home could buy.....expensive, too, the Kennedys used the same firm.  Maybe not this young one, but it looked good when our man stood up and said the name of their company - four long names -  it meant something.  So he got five years - less with good behavior.  Was I wrong?  God, I know you had troubles with your son, but did you ever have doubts about him?  I don't think so.  I have doubts......doubts he will ever change.  (Hard to say)  Doubts he wants to change at all.

            (She sighs deeply, collecting the leaves and putting them in a pail.)

Well, as always, it's been good talking to you, God. I will miss our little chats here while I trim this tree, but I'm sure Sophie's house has plenty to do and I will be happy to talk to you there.

            (She straightens up, she has made up her mind.)

But that is it.  This house was all I had.  I.....I told the girls I will not speak to him again.  I wish him well, but enough is enough.

            (She looks at the tree, wipes her face, starts to walk off. then stops.  Listens, considers reluctantly, after all, it is God)

 All right, maybe I'll change my mind - one day.  But he would have to be changed for real......(thinks)  he'd have to eat some real vegetables.

            (As she walks off, we hear her say....)

That'll be the day......

            (End of scene)



--------------------------------
Notes - I suspect this will work equally well as pantomime or with a 'tree' that can be actually 'trimmed'


Janet S. Tiger    858-274-9678
www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

The blog is a teenager, so I thought this could be a bit off the wall.

Scroll down for the previous days
(For a somewhat complete list of all the monologues with blurbs, click here)
Small print - A few words about 'free' - I mean that these are free to read, free to perform and video AS LONG AS NO MONEY IS CHARGED.  Once you want to charge admission or a donation, or include my work in an anthology, you need to contact me at [email protected] for royalty info.  These monologues - and all my writing -are protected as follows - All rights reserved under the Berne and Pan-American copyright convention.
But I will be happy to give permission to do a video for youtube, as long as I receive credit - like Tori Langley did (Click here for THE TOWEL LADY THE TOWEL LADY.
Like my work?  Want to support a playwright and get  more great  award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com


Feb. 25, 2014  Day  #13 

                        Walking My Brain
                                         by Janet S. Tiger 
                              (c) all rights reserved Feb. 25, 2014  
                                      [email protected]

(A very dapper older gentleman is seen coming onstage.  He is dressed with a hat and looks all put together - and he is walking with a leash....not a dog, mind you, just the leash.  If you can get one, the leash that stands without a dog attached is optimal, but if not, just a dragging leash will do.

He is a very happy sort of chap, and, even before he speaks we know he is British.  How?  We just know.  He walks around the stage, tipping his hat to those he meets, until, finally, he meets you and he is SO happy to see you.)



(Veddy British)    Well, hello!  I haven't seen you in an absolute age!  How are you?  You look magnificent!  Healthy and fit!  Why it must be, how many years?

            (He tilts to listen, laughs)

Oh yes, the years do go fast.  (Listens)  Oh this.....

            (He indicates the leash)


No, I haven't lost my dog, although that's what so many people think for some reason!  But I am quick to correct that misconception -  I do not have a dog, nor have I ever owned a dog, nor do I - short of some incredible change of my belief systems which include believing dogs should be free animals like those in the zoos - no, I am not walking a missing dog........(relishes this)  I am walking my brain.

            (Waits for reaction)

It does seem a bit unusual, doesn't it.  But once I explain, you, too, will understand, just like those gentlemen in the hospital finally had to - after my solicitor apprised them that I was entitled to my views, just as anyone is.

Yes, I firmly believe that walking is an essential exercise.  One that be accomplished after running, and skiing, and cycling and all the others... are no longer feasible.

So I walk my body for the health of all the billions of cells that depend on regular exercise and fresh air.

But the brain?  What of its needs?  I do not hold with the belief that sitting in front of a computer for an hour  trying to remember what 358 times 22 equals is the best way of keeping one's brain in good working order!

No!  I believe that the best way is to get out and meet people...people you know, people you have never known - people are the best exercise for the brain.

And here's where this leash comes in -  when I have it, and I am walking my 'brain' - there are few people who do not notice that the leash is empty.

Not of the brain, of course, but the leather part.

Their faces are more entertaining than any show on the telly - and it's live entertainment - for free!  The best price if you ask me....

And very few can resist asking me about my missing dog.  They smile, they laugh - oh, and children totally understand when I tell them I'm walking my brain!

So after I have been out for an hour or so, I feel as if my body and my brain have had a good, healthy walk, and I - and my brain - are ready for a nice cup of tea and a nap.

My dear friend, it has been a delight to see you - I hope we can bump into each other again.

I say goodbye - and my brain says goodbye, too!

            (He turns, gives the leash a nod.)

Good brain!  Now we'll get some sugar for you.......

            (He listens as if his 'brain' is responding, laughs and exits.  As he leaves, we             hear whistling....could it be...'Walking My Brainy Back Home...'   Hope not!              This is crazy enough!   The end.)







Janet S. Tiger    858-274-9678
www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

Feb. 24, 2014   Day 12 
Day  #12    Scroll down for the previous days
(For a complete list of all the monologues with blurbs, click here)
Small print - A few words about 'free' - I mean that these are free to read, free to perform and video AS LONG AS NO MONEY IS CHARGED.  Once you want to charge admission or a donation, or include my work in an anthology, you need to contact me at [email protected] for royalty info.  These monologues - and all my writing -are protected as follows - All rights reserved under the Berne and Pan-American copyright convention.
But I will be happy to give permission to do a video for youtube, as long as I receive credit - like Tori Langley did (Click here for THE TOWEL LADY THE TOWEL LADY.)


                      The First Pull (c)
                                   by Janet S. Tiger   
                             © Feb. 24, 2014  all rights reserved 
                                  [email protected]

            (A girl comes onstage.  She is a teenager, but is wearing a scarf that                     covers her hair almost completely.   Of what is showing, she takes one                 of the strands and wraps it around her finger.)

Pain.  How can one strand of hair cause so much pain?

But it can. (Very sad)   And it does.

I remember once when I was babysitting.  I was about 11, it was my first job, with my Aunt Bonnie.  Her little boy, Jeremy, he was a good baby, but just before they came home, he woke up and started crying.  By the time they got back, he was screaming like mad!

(Remembering)  It was sooooo scary!  I knew he didn’t have a temperature, and he wasn’t like throwing up or having a bad diaper, but I was walking him and I couldn’t get him to stop screaming!

I was about to call my mother and ask what to do when Aunt Bonnie came home.  She was a tiny bit upset when she heard him yelling so loud, but she picked him up and walked with him for a minute and then she told me, ‘come here’ you have to see this…..

And she took off all his clothing – everything.  A doctor had shown her what to do....how to check to see if there were like, any insects biting, or a rash, and to check every single part of the body.

So I looked with her, and whaddaya know?  Wrapped around one of his tiny pinky toes….was one strand of hair!

It had cut off all the circulation to his toe and the toe was purple.  Which was probably the reason he was screaming, Aunt Bonnie said.  And she was right,... when she got the hair off his toe, he stopped yowling right away. 

I never forgot that.  Most people would think it was good to learn, but for me, it just showed me what I already knew – hair is bad.

I have always hated my hair.  People who love their hair cannot understand this. 

                        (Points to her head)

You were thinking the scarf was because of chemotherapy, right?  Wrong.  By the time I was 11, I’d already been pulling for a year – I have some hair left, but that’s only because……(hard for her to say)…only because I don’t know what I would do if I had nothing left to pull…..

Some girls I’ve talked to online, they do their eyebrows, not me.  Not fun like from your head, long hair, hair you can save.

Pain and hair – it all comes together in such a nice tidy package.

And now my mother tells me if I pull any more of my hair, I won’t get to go to camp this summer and see my cousins.  So even more pain!

                (She looks at the hair she is playing with – should she do it?)

To pull or not to pull….that is the question.  Whether it’s nobler to not pull and keep all the agony inside and or pull and be bald and not go to camp?

I remember the first time I pulled.  It was after a particularly bad day.  School had been really bad.  I did not get onto the cheerleading squad.  That was not a surprise, because nothing I do ever turns out good.  Because I'm not that good at anything.

And one of the teachers I really liked, in English, Ms. Dunston, she took the special time to talk to me to say that my essay needed work.  My favorite class, the one I usually get As in, she tells me I'm going to get a B on the essay unless I work harder.  But I did work hard! 

And then when I got home, it turned out we had to move because my Dad got some big job, so we had to pack everything up again and go someplace else where no one would like me.

You know that expression 'so mad I could pull my hair out'?  Well, this has been around for a long time.  And it happens like, all of a sudden, you just get so mad, so upset, so sad, you just start pulling.

I remember thinking it would hurt, but it doesn't.  Now if someone else pulls your hair, like Bobby did when I was in third grade, that hurts. But there is no pain, none at all if you pull your own hair.  At least no physical pain, just something deep inside your soul.

Do I remember the first pull?  Yeah, but it was soon joined by so many more.....My parents didn't even notice the first couple of years...I mean, they see my hair is weird and I wear scarves, but I actually heard my mom say to one of her stupid friends that she was just glad I didn't dye my hair some weird color.  She was....(says it with disgust)...happy.  Happy I was going through my 'teenage rebellion years' with only this as a problem.

She's not so happy now. (Annoyed)   My mom is so clueless!  I mean I love her and all, but she tells me all I have to do is stop...(imitates mother)  'one pull at a time.'   And the therapist has all kinds of great ways to help me.  And they work.....if you do them.

There is one comforting thing, I suppose.  The knowledge that I am not alone.  That over the centuries, women have pulled out their hair, and now, right now, as you hear this, you probably know someone who is pulling.  And you probably don't even know.  You probably don't care, either, otherwise you would see that their eyebrows are always with heavy pencil, and they wear hats and scarves, and you never see them brush their hair in public - or wear scrunchies!

                (She laughs, then she starts to cry, but stops herself.)

So, what do I do now?

                (She hangs her head, and we see her take her hand and, as she                          starts to walk offstage, we see her start to pull)

Out, out, damned hair……

                (She pulls and looks at the hair for a moment.)

I never liked camp that much anyway…..

                 (She exits.  End of scene 1)

------------------------------------------------------------
(I've been working on this concept for some time, from a story I heard, but never had put it on paper until now.  I hope this will be the first one of a series of monologues that will be a one-act titled Trich or Treat - from the medical name for hair-pulling - trichotillomania.  If you know someone who is doing this - there is a great support system online at trich.org)


Janet S. Tiger    858-274-9678
www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

Day  #11    Scroll down for the previous days
(For a complete list of all the monologues with blurbs, click here)

Small print - A few words about 'free' - I mean that these are free to read, free to perform and video AS LONG AS NO MONEY IS CHARGED.  Once you want to charge admission or a donation, or include my work in an anthology, you need to contact me at [email protected] for royalty info.  These monologues - and all my writing -are protected as follows - All rights reserved under the Berne and Pan-American copyright convention.
But I will be happy to give permission to do a video for youtube, as long as I receive credit - like Tori Langley did (Click here for THE TOWEL LADY THE TOWEL LADY.)


*****Parent alert - strong language, cursing**********


                                         Solitary
                                      by Janet S. Tiger
                          (c) all rights reserved  Feb. 23, 2014 
                                      [email protected]

          
            (Lights come up slowly, we know the sun is rising, as the rays come                        through a small window -and we see a prison cell of some kind.   On a wall             is a hook with a prison uniform.  As the scene brightens, we see a youngish             man – is he in his twenties, thirties?, lying on a cot.   He is already awake,             and starts to stir when the light hits his face, as he takes the blanket off.              He is physically strong, with tattoos, and is dressed only in his boxer shorts,             and he now takes a book from under his pillow, faces the sun coming                     through the window, and kneels, reading the book and quietly praying.

            When finished, he looks around, picking up a stick, a pencil? And holding it             up to the sunlight so it casts a shadow.)
Breakfast in about 10 minutes.

God, I…I think I..I’m hungry.

            (He looks up at the sunlight.)

What about you, God?  Are you hungry in the morning?

Now that I..I’m off that stuff, I…I seem to be a little hungrier.  Of course, that’s until I..I see what they bring me.  Bologna and eggs, bologna and hot dogs, hot dogs and eggs.  Never thought I..I would say this, but it sure would be nice to see some vegetable.

            (Looks up)

Hey, Ma, didja hear that?  I..I  actually want to see a vegetable.  Now eat one, that might take some time, but hey, I…I  got plenty of time.

            (Takes a deep breath.)

It’s how many days?

            (He looks at a part of the wall.)

Three weeks, twenty one days for the first cloud of withdrawal, then another 16, that’s 37, from 182, (thinks) ……that’s 145 to go. 

            (He starts to makes a mark on the wall, then stops. )

Hey, God, whaddaya think about this- maybe I..I should wait until the whole day is over before I..I make the mark that the day is over?

Good idea, huh?

I think so, I..I hope you approve.

            (He shakes his head, leans his head toward the faint sunlight)

How did I..I think I..I can do this?

(More desperate)  Okay, God, you have to listen to me some more, dunno if I…I can do this……man, this is tougher than I…I thought it would be……

            (He picks up the Bible and puts it down.)

Hey, God, I..I have something to say to you.  I..I mean, I’ve been talking to you for a few days now.  Maybe the first few didn’t make that much sense………

            (Stops to listen, laughs)

Did you say I..I was babbling?  Yeah, that’s a good word for it.

Oh shit!  …..can’t believe this!  …sorry, God, about the shit, I…I mean about cursing, I..I’m trying to stop…..oh, man…….now I..I’m not only talking to God,  I..I’m apologizing when I…I curse…..and even worse…… I..I’m hearing his voice!

            (Looks up)

Okay, your voice!

Amazing….a fucking-mazing!

            (Looks up, shakes head)

I..I’m sorry.

            (Listens) 

I..I  know you’ve heard it all before, I…I guess, I…I just want to be more polite, it might make it easier when I…I get outta here.

            (Shakes his head, starts to pace)

This is really starting to get to me!

I..I thought being away from the drugs would help, but I…I think I..I’m having what one of those shrinks called a…..what was the fancy word?.....a psychotic break!  I..I’m hearing voices!

Real voices, like if you were in the room, God!

            (Listens)

Maybe it’s because of this book, huh?  I..I mean, I’ve been reading it now for a few weeks…and I…I gotta tell ya, God….I..I dunno if you can take it, I..I mean, had a friend who was a writer back in school, and he did not criticism well, but …..the Bible is boring.

            (He cringes, as if someone is about to hit him.)

There I..I said it!  I..I’m sorry…..no, that’s not true, I said I..I’d tell the truth, and I..I’m not sorry – you probably know, right?  I..I mean just because a lotta people say something is great, doesn’t mean it is, right?  Like in school, all those books they try to get you to read, like Moby Dick and The Great Gatsby, they stink.  But the Bible, you can’t say the Bible is boring…..but I..I did.

And you didn’t smite me down, dija?

Maybe there’s something in here…..that’s not so boring…I..I’m gonna keep reading, because it’s all I have now…..

            (He picks up the Bible and thumbs through it.)

Here-

            (He holds up the page.)

Oh, I forget, you probably know this part…. (Quoting) Matthew 12:22 ‘Then a demon-oppressed man who was blind and mute was brought to him, and he healed him, so that the man spoke and saw. ‘

How come you don’t have like whole chapters about demons?  I mean, they’re a lot more fun than the angels, right?

            (He closes the Bible almost violently.  He is angry.)

Why are there demons?  And I..I don’t mean the devil, I..I mean the people who sell this stuff….(thinks)  that would be me, I’m a demon.  I..I sold that shit ….sorry…I sold those drugs to people.  Does that make me a demon?

            (Listens)

(Quoting) “ Demons cannot occupy any place that God has conquered.”   What the hell is that supposed to mean?  Sorry, is hell a curse, too?  I..I forget some of the stuff I heard in Sunday school.  And hey, now that I’m reading your book, there’s a lotta stuff in here they never taught us, never talked about.

            (He pulls his hair back, and starts to shudder. )

Okay, God, we have to have an understanding.  I..I started this so I..I could get out of here in six months, no parole.  They can’t say I..I made trouble in here, can’t say I..I started a fight, or took drugs, or sold drugs, or anything.  The worst could be if I..I write on the walls, but I..I can erase that stuff, so that’s no problem.

What is the problem?  Lemme tell you – I..I want to tell the truth.  That’s what I..I promised myself when I..I started this.  I..I mean, the only one left to lie to is…me.  From what I..I understand, I..I can’t lie to you…..you know everything.

(Laughs)  So I..I guess that makes you a know-it-all, right, God?  Did anyone ever call you that when you were a kid?

            (Laughs, then stops, it’s not funny what he is about to talk about)

So you know that ………(hard to say)…..they took my son away…...  his mother is in jail for drugs, too, and I..I may never see him again.  He’s a good kid – nothing like me, thank you God for that.  But I..I want to be better, maybe one day, get to see him again.  Who knows…well, maybe you do….but maybe, we could be a family.

            (He is pacing, trying not to break down)

(In anguish)  Why am I..I tellin you this?  Because I..I think you can help me?  But you know what I..I think about you, right?  That’s no secret, right?  Not only is your dumb Bible boring, but……(almost impossible to say)…but I…I…I don’t believe in you,  God!

            (He falls to his knees and is trying not to cry.)

How many more days of this can I do!!!!

            (He sits rocking, and quiets slowly, then he looks up, hears a noise, he goes             to his prison uniform and puts it on quickly.  He is now more docile, a                     prisoner again, then he looks up.)

Well, I..I guess it’s not solitary, if you’re here with me, right God?

           

            (He tilts his head to ‘listen’ and smiles.  There is a sound of a key, and he             turns to get his food.)

Later, God, later…..

            (As we hear food on metal plates moving into his room, lights dim.  The                 end.)


Janet S. Tiger    858-274-9678
www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

Dedicated to my Dad’s friend at the Donut Shop, Veronica, one of the last ten people on earth who does not have a cell phone - thank you!
Small print - A few words about 'free' - I mean that these are free to read, free to perform and video AS LONG AS NO MONEY IS CHARGED.  Once you want to charge admission or a donation, or include my work in an anthology, you need to contact me at [email protected] for royalty info.  These monologues - and all my writing -are protected as follows - All rights reserved under the Berne and Pan-American copyright convention.
But I will be happy to give permission to do a video for youtube, as long as I receive credit - like Tori Langley did (Click here for THE TOWEL LADY THE TOWEL LADY.)

Day  #10   

                             iPhones for Peace by Janet S. Tiger
                             (c) all rights reserved  Feb. 22, 2014 
                                    [email protected]

(A woman comes out onstage, she is older, but not ancient, very alive, and animated.  Some might call her feisty.  She holds up a cell phone, shakes it at the audience.)

 I’ll bet you right now, that everyone here has one of these…right?

And I’ll bet you that some of you have more than one – so that means, that in this room, there’s more of them, than us!

 Amazing – the machines have taken over already and we never knew the battle had begun!

 But since so many people love these damn things, I think we should use them for good – and in the precious search for peace on earth, I am going to suggest a way to achieve almost instant peace……internationally.

 Are you ready?  It’s simple…….hold onto your hats….better yet, hold onto your phones!

 The solution to peace on earth is…..an iPhone for everyone!

 There – I told you it was simple!  Let me explain…..

 Half the world has them already, and for the other half, can you imagine if all the billionaires got together and made sure that every single man, woman and child had an iPhone……what the world would look like?  A little scary?  No!  It would be ….fantastic!

 Everyone would be too busy trying to figure out the crazy things and no one would have any time for war!

 (She takes her arm and moves like she’s about to throw something.)

 (Sounds like military man)  Hey, I have to throw this grenade…..(stops, listens)  but wait a minute….I have to get this…….(picks up the phone)  Whatta you mean, I’m out of minutes? 

 (Back to herself)  Already people don’t talk to each other – which is wonderful!  No talk, no misunderstandings, no war! 

And think about it – if everyone had the same phone, there would be no need for learning new languages, the phone can translate!

 If people wanted to keep their other phones, that would be ok, too – the more phones, the better!  More phones, less war!

            (She goes into the audience, handing out papers, hears a question)

What about all the arms manufacturers?  What will they do?  I say, maybe it’s time for them to think about re-tooling …..how about plowshares?  Or timeshares?  Something less explosive!

 (Contemplative)  Years ago, there was a woman called the Peace Pilgrim, who walked all over this country for peace.  She touched the lives of thousands of people, maybe even millions…..

 (Back to feisty) That’s so old school!    Today I want to reach BILLIONS of people, so I channeled her spirit and that’s why now…. I am advocating…say it with me!.......iPhones for peace.

 And I hope you all join me – maybe someone (thinking this through) ….can design….. an ‘app’ for peace – that would be ….I was going to say wonderful, but I think the current word is….awesome!

 So…..please join me in my quest for world peace – write to your congressman, your senators, your mother – she probably needs a phone! – and tell them how they can help.  But most of all, write to Apple and Bill Gates, and Warren Buffett and all those other rich guys - anyone you can think of to spread this idea…thank you!

 (She turns to go)

 …wait a minute, did I say ‘write’……..

 (She is now almost off the stage, she turns back, hits some buttons on the cell phone)

 I meant….tweet!

 Tweet for peace!  I like that……I think I’ll add that to the next flier…..

(Looks back, raises a fist.)

Say it – iPhones for Peace, iPhones for Peace…….

(She exits. The beginning of the end ….of war!)

Last single digit day!
Small print - A few words about 'free' - I mean that these are free to read, free to perform and video AS LONG AS NO MONEY IS CHARGED.  Once you want to charge admission or a donation, or include my work in an anthology, you need to contact me at [email protected] for royalty info.  These monologues - and all my writing -are protected as follows - All rights reserved under the Berne and Pan-American copyright convention.
But I will be happy to give permission to do a video for youtube, as long as I receive credit - like Tori Langley did (Click here for THE TOWEL LADY THE TOWEL LADY.)


                               The Senior Channel 
                               by Janet S. Tiger
(c) all rights reserved  Feb. 21, 2014  [email protected]

(An older man enters, he is holding a paper bag - and he is annoyed.)

This is my idea for your  Shark Tank!  I want to start a company - right now! - and I want it to be a channel for senior citizens, calling it, cleverly enough, THE SENIOR CHANNEL. It would be donations from seniors who want a channel for themselves. (Starts to get emotional) It would address important issues for senior citizens  - and best of all - because it is all donations - it would have NO ADS about bladder slings and Viagra and lawsuits...and especially no ads with Alex Trebek about insurance!

 (Calms just a little)  Sorry about that, my doctor says I get excited too easily- and don't tell me to zip through the commercials, since VCRs were replaced with that TIVO, I have absolutely no idea how to watch anything except live TV unless my grandchildren are around!

(Quiets a bit, trying to be calm) To start, for the first project,  I want it to have a TV show, just like this, and I want it to address a severe need we have - the inability to open the simplest of objects!

(He now opens the bag)

Let me explain -  I have here a container - simple enough - I bought it at the store.

(He holds it up)

I cannot open it - and I challenge you to try! 

(He 'hands' the containers into the crowd)

And you are all younger than I am!

Let's see how long it takes you......

(He pulls a pocketwatch out  and clicks, starting to time them, as he attempts to open the package himself - unsuccessfully.  Looks at the watch)

Well, that's .......long enough......shall we waste more of the public's time? 

I have a faster solution!

(He removes a small hammer from his other pocket and smashes the container on the ground.)

There - done!

Only problem - hard to eat the food now!

So  what's the program?  I want to have our first Senior Channel TV program where we track down all the people who make these unopenable items, and then we confront them, just like they do on 60 Minutes!

(He turns around - now he is both a reporter and  a cowering subject.)

(Harsh, newslike)  And our sources indicate you are the designer of this object which has caused, according to our calculations, over 10 million three hundred thousand sixty-one minutes of lost time per year!  And that does not include the visits to the emergency room when physical injury was incurred during the opening of the object!  What do you have to say for yourself?

(As the cowering designer)  I ....Iwas jjjjjjjust .......doing my job!

(Back to himself)  And then we will hit him....

(He hits himself, jumps.)

And they will never do that again!

The possibilities are endless!  Everyone watching will be happy to send in objects to be part of the show - and if their item is chosen, they will get to confront the originators of these horrible omnipresent, omnipotent and ubiquitous objects!

Whew - that was an interesting line.......

The cost? Unimportant!  The profit?  Immense!  This show could change the world - for the better!  We could make the designers of these everyday items aware that WE ARE WATCHING - and we are MAD AS HELL, and WE ARE NOT GOING TO TAKE IT ANYMORE! 

And you could have people throwing these objects out of the windows, and it would be a huge hit!

Other programs on this channel will include actual people trying to open the packages - and we'd have them dropping objects from tall buildings, using buzz saws, and chain saws- can you imagine what will happen when the saw works, and food sprays all over people! and ......we have endless opportunities for fun!

So, which of you sharks want to be in on the ground floor of the hottest idea in the land of Seniors.......

(He closes up his bag, starts to walk off)

All of you?  Well, that sounds just like my dream! 

(He smiles and walks off.  The end.)










Janet S. Tiger    858-274-9678
www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

 
Today I write something that has been in my head for a long time, but just recently seemed ready to write.  As I start, I am not sure where it will go.  It is different than the last seven days - let's see. 
Small print - A few words about 'free' - I mean that these are free to read, free to perform and video AS LONG AS NO MONEY IS CHARGED.  Once you want to charge admission or a donation, or include my work in an anthology, you need to contact me at [email protected] for royalty info.  These monologues - and all my writing -are protected as follows - All rights reserved under the Berne and Pan-American copyright convention.
But I will be happy to give permission to do a video for youtube, as long as I receive credit - like Tori Langley did (Click here for THE TOWEL LADY THE TOWEL LADY.)

Monologue Mania  Day #8    I Like Boys!  Feb. 20, 2014
                          by Janet S. Tiger  (c) all rights reserved [email protected]

(A young man comes onstage, he looks young, anywhere from 14 to 18, and he is wearing a very large chef's hat and an apron that covers a suit.

He is nervous, and he goes to the side of the stage, where he puts the 'final touches' on something that is in a frying pan.  This can be mimed, or done with real food, if the production can afford it. 

He turns off the stove, takes a deep breath, and faces the audience.)

Mom, Dad, I hope you're hungry, because I have a real treat for you!  It needs a couple of minutes to finish off the heat, so it gives me a minute to talk to you...about something important.

Oh, wait a second, almost forgot I had this on!

(He takes off the chef's hat, puts it aside, and starts to take off the apron, then stops.)

You know, I think I'll leave this on.  It gives me, I don't know, strength in some way.

(Takes a deep breath)

Whooo, didn't realize this would be difficult.  I've been planning to do this for a few months, but actually doing it, is different.  Telling you what I'm about to tell you, is very important, but it will change our lives forever.

So ...I guess I just say it......

(Takes another deep breath)

I ........I........I guess you may have figured this out already, but, every since I was little, you kind of knew this about me, I think..   but these last few months, I realized, in order to be an adult, I have to stop pretending.  I'm sorry I didn't have the courage before tonight to tell you what I'm about to tell you.

Mom, Dad......I like ......(another deep breath)  I like to cook.

There, I've said it.  And I hope you're not too upset, because, I know you wanted me to go to college and be an architect like Dad, and I wish I could've told you this before all the applications went out, and the interviews and the visits to all those great schools.

But we had fun, right?  It was nice to go all over the country together.....I'll never forget that.  I just hope you can forgive me for waiting to tell you this.

(Takes another breath, tilts his head as if listening, more relaxed)

Thank you for understanding.  Whoa, that was not as hard as I thought it would be.  I guess, food makes things easier.

Just to let you know, this hasn't been a sudden decision - I mean, you both know I've always loved the kitchen, mom, some of my best memories are with you, helping make sandwiches when I was little, then dinner when I could reach the stove!

Remember that time when I thought I would help by cooking everything in the freezer?  You were taking a nap, and I got a chair to reach the top of the refrigerator, and I must've put in three chickens, four steaks, and several roasts, all in the same pans!  You woke up and you saw what I had done and I thought your eyes would pop out of your head!

And then you said to me - 'well, that saves me a lot of time - I won't have to cook for a month!'  (Laughs)  I never realized until years later that you sent me out to play so you could fix the problem with spices and lots of sauce.  And we ate all kinds of odd things for a month....but you never yelled at me, and I thank you for that.

Now, Dad, I know you wanted me to follow in your footsteps, maybe join your company, have a father and son architects for the future - but maybe that's more for Ellen- she always liked Legos, and putting things together.  she's only 13, you have time to work with her - I think that, maybe, that's going to be a good thing.

I've known I liked to cook for a long time, but getting that job at Jack-in-the-Box last summer, well, I know you said it would rot my brain, but Mr. Dylan has been great - when it's quiet, he lets us experiment in the kitchen.  All the guys who work there love to cook, I think that's why he hires guys like me......we all .....like to cook.

I've known since I was little - it's like my skin, Dad, and I can't change it.  I could scrub it and pretend it was different, but I am what I am, and I hope you can understand.

And now, for our dinner!  I know how much you both love quail, so I made some roasted quail, which I am about to flambe with cognac!

(He turns to the stove, then looks back. )

Yes, that's right, flambe means 'flaming'........and that brings me to something else I wanted to mention.............

I like boys.

(He turns and walks to the edge of the stage, now removing the apron and suit jacket, before he exits, returning, looking much older.)

There, that's a big weight off my shoulders!    (Reflective)  I can't believe it - I'm 62 years old and both my parents have been dead for over 20 years, and it was still hard to tell them.

Thank you my dear friends, for helping me come out to them all these years later.

(He shakes his head, blows out breath deeply.)

Why couldn't I say it then? 

Why is it still hard to do these things?

(Listens and laughs)

Yes, I suppose hard is good wherever it comes!

(Quieter, looks around the audience)

We all have to start somewhere.....I guess it's never too late to tell the truth.....yes, they probably knew.  Everyone did.

I look at some of you, you young people now, you are so alive, so open, I wish I could've been like that.....

(He takes some ‘plates’ from the counter and offers them to the crowd.)

Well, now that the air has finally been cleared....we can eat!

(He carries the 'plates' offstage, turning at the edge, smiling.)

At least, I told them about the cooking!

(He exits, the end.)





Janet S. Tiger    858-274-9678
www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

Day #  7 -  Notes on one week of new monologues
Some might ask how can I do this?  (I know my sister thinks I'm crazy!)

Well, I've always been a fast writer onto the page - because I think about what I am going to write for a long time - edit in the head, I guess you might call it.

And, starting last year, after my husband's stroke in Sept 2012, I started writing 5 minutes a day, almost every day.  When I missed, I would catch up on subsequent days.  The result was a lot of finished work -  TIME TRAVEL CAFE ( a winner in their contest and produced by the New Play Cafe at THE BIG KITCHEN in Aug. 2013)  TALES FROM THE CRIB (winner in the Scripteaser New One-Act Contest 2013 - Honorable Mention, THE ANGINA MONOLOGUES  (first read Feb 2013, produced Dallas,Texas for Senior Theater)  and THE BOOK OF TEAS (play and novel)

My goal for this year - to be able to finish these monologues - and several collections, as well as BEN (excerpt below) and a few other pieces.  I would love to see actors get to video these - youtube is an amazing audition tool for everyone in the theater - and it would be great to get some more productions in new countries.  (I have an old, very partial list - click here -click here  - of where all my plays have been.)

Small print - A few words about 'free' - I mean that these are free to read, free to perform and video AS LONG AS NO MONEY IS CHARGED.  Once you want to charge admission or a donation, or include my work in an anthology, you need to contact me at [email protected] for royalty info.  These monologues - and all my writing -are protected as follows - All rights reserved under the Berne and Pan-American copyright convention.
But I will be happy to give permission to do a video for youtube, as long as I receive credit - like Tori Langley did (Click here for THE TOWEL LADY THE TOWEL LADY.)

Today's monologue is from a longer piece, not yet finished, (which I am hoping to complete this year) about one of my best friends,.......Ben Franklin.

In this scene, Ben talks about how no one realizes which day is Lincoln's or Washington's b-day


Feb. 19, 2014 Day #7 When Was President's Day? by Janet S. Tiger
                       (c) all rights reserved [email protected] [email protected]

(from my soon-to-be-completed BEN - a one-man show about Ben Franklin, not the rat)

Hello.  My name is Benjamin Franklin, and I have a question for you - yes, you, who used to know when Washington and Lincolns birthdays were - and you, who have never known.

Think quickly now - do you remember who these people were?  George Washington, a dear friend of mine, was this great nation's very first President, a man who honestly believed he was invincible in a battle.  And he was.  Horses were shot out from under him - he once showed me a coat he wore during battle and it had no less than four bullet holes in the tails - and yet, not a scratch on George.

It never surprised me that he died of what you now call a bacterial infection - something from the inside. 

Now my friend Abraham - we all knew he couldn't last.  Too many out to get him - there were over 500 attempts on his life in the four years he was President.  George and I watched with great sadness when Abe joined us, but now he is a wonderful partner at ......poker.  You thought I was going to say dinner, but no.  No dinners here, no food......because we have no bodies!  So we just play games!  Poker, parchesi.... Abe likes jenga, and we all like Nintendo.  But our favorite games are the guessing ones.

Like about why people like to argue about God - and whether it is one nation under him or not. 

And like how many people have forgotten when our birthdays are.    

Just so that we can keep this a bit educational - George Washington's birthday is Feb. 22nd - as changed in 1752, when we all agree to the new calendar - and Abraham Lincoln's is Feb. 12.  Quick - you know George was the first president...but what number was Abe?  Can't remember?  .......It was the 16th!  Sweet 16!

(He looks around furtively)

Abe just loves when I call it that! 

(Calling out to the heavens)

It's just for mnemonic purposes, Abe! 

(He laughs as if he has heard something, then looks back at the crowd.)

Abe reminded to tell about how no one knows when the birthdays really are.   On January 1, 1971, for some very important reason involving vacations, all of you wise people shifted the federal holidays honoring George and Abe to the third Monday in February by the Uniform Monday Holiday Act.  This date places both birthdays between February 15 and 21, which makes the names "Washington's Birthday" and "Lincoln's Birthday"   even more strange, since neither can ever occur on Washington's actual birthday, either February 11 or February 22, or on Lincoln's uni-birthday - Feb. 12!

So no one knows these birthdays anymore - except now, all of you - and for that reason, I will leave you with a last question -  what was my birthday?  Yes, go ahead, look it up on your iphones!  Incidentally, I'll bet you all know who Steve Jobs was - a strange man, very bright.  And he likes poker, too.

Did you find it?  (Listens)  Yes, that's right,Jan. 17th - -old way, Jan. 6 - that's the one I celebrated when I was still having birthdays in your realm.   No, I did not eat birthday cake, that did not happen until after my passing.  Shame, I know I would have loved birthday cake!  and the candles, a nice touch, reminds me of fireworks.  I am so glad that I lived to see George become President.  Oh, he so did not want to be President!  But the fireworks for his inauguration!  That was almost worth it, he wrote to me.  From one end of the land to the other, the sky was lit and the sound echoed to the heavens - this nation was going to survive.

There's an idea - more fireworks for the President birthdays!  If you will excuse me, I'm going to go whisper in the ear of some of those Congressman of yours......most never listen, but all I need is one to get this started......

(He tilts his head, listening again.)

Why should we remember these birthdays?  Yes, that is a good question. (Thinks for a moment, much more serious now)   Is there any real reason?  I believe so.  And it is a good reason. We may all be long dead and buried- but, the point is, that if we are dead but not forgotten, perhaps the ideals that we loved so dearly, that we lived for and fought for ....and died for, that have made this nation and this world a better place....those ideals will never be forgotten - they will live on in the minds and hearts of countless generations to come.

(Listens again, irritated this time)

All right, I know I'm not trying to get them to sign the Constitution!  I just wanted them to remember our birthdays!

(He turns to leave)

Last question-  who knows which number President I was?

(He starts to walk off)

That wasn't too hard, was it?  I was...... noneteenth - never a President, just the man on the 100 dollar bill.  You go tell all your friends!  Or better yet, send them a text!

(He walks off, laughing.)

The end.



Janet S. Tiger    858-274-9678
www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8