Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day - for a whole year! 
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down. 
     To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - click here.  
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Apr. 12, 2014  Day #59  Monologue Mania

                        Satellite Selfie (c)
                                         by Janet S. Tiger  
                                  (c) all rights reserved 2014
                                       tigerteam1@gmail.com

            (A woman comes onstage, frantically dialing a cell phone.)

Marge?  Are you there?  Please pick up the phone!  My God this is important!

            (Listens) 

Marge!  I know you're there..(horrified)..... I can ...I can see you on Google!  That's what this is about!  And I know you have the cell phone.....near you....so please pick up! 

(Relieved)  Marge!  I am so glad I got you!  Yes, it's important!  I was just on my computer, and I was on Google, and I happened to look at your house…(listens)….yes, sometimes I do go onto Google and look at our neighborhood………but pay attention, this is important!   There is a camera on your house right now, LIVE!  (Listens)  That’s right, a camera! From Google!  From outer space! …….And I know that you are in your back yard, doing yard work....and yes, I know that you have no clothing on!  In fact, the whole world knows you have no clothing on!  You are.....(shocked).... completely naked!

I am horrified!  I mean, I always knew you were weird, but this is too much.....stop laughing, Marge!  It's not funny!

            (Listens)

And yes, I know it's a very hot day and you hate clothes and that's why you put up eight-foot high fences with barbed wire on top and tall trees, but that is not the issue! 

I mean, I don't care what you do in the privacy of your home, but with these Google satellites, you are fair game once you step outside!  I always knew going to the moon was a bad idea, but this just proves it!

Would you please stop laughing!  You probably jiggle like the dickens when you laugh!

No, I am not watching you right now - I thought that would be an invasion of your privacy......stop giggling! ….And no, I am not going to save this so you can have a …what did you call it…a ‘satellite selfie’!

I wish you would see the seriousness of this!

            (Completely frazzled)

I don't care if your hydrangeas needed pruning!  I don't care if all your bushes need pruning!   (Realizes what she said, sputters)  I mean, that came out wrong.....just go inside and put something on, for God's sakes!

            (Listens)

What?  (resigned, and just a little jealous)   Well, yes, dear.....you do look great from outer space......

            (She shakes her head, hangs up)



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

Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day - for a whole year! 
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down. 
     To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - click here.  
     For a list of the blurbs from each day, click here
Help  a playwright and get  more great  award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com
Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site!Apr. 11, 2014  Day #58  Operation Firefly  Monologue Mania 


                               Operation Firefly  (c)
                       (from the movie Operation Firefly – in planning now)
                                     by Janet S. Tiger
                                © all rights reserved 2014 
                                     tigerteam1@gmail.com

Background –

Operation Firefly-

Black soldiers – under the leadership of Walter, their commanding officer, teach themselves to be paratroopers, and are chosen to be the  555 - Triple Nickles – the first black paratroop infantry troops.  But their goal of fighting in Europe or Asia has been diverted, and the man who helped train them is about to tell something vital.

Act 1 consists of 3 parts – the first an intro to the characters, the second will be the training of the men, and this is the last part of the final scene of Act 1-

            (We see two men in military uniforms drinking in a darkened field, one black -           Walter -with sergeant stripes, the other white, with master sergeant                     rank.  Both are drinking from bottles, their hats are off, and we see a stack             of  empties near them.)

                                               SGT -  

                                       (southern accent) 

You are probably wonderin why I brought you out here…..obviously we can’t be seen fraternizing together in public….and you are leavin tomorrow, and mebbe I wanted to thank you for what you did for me last month……..


            (Walter just lifts his bottle)

                                       SGT  -

Mebbe not........Tomorrow you get your next rank, promoted above me, leadin a whole battalion of men to fight far away…..somethin I always wanted to do….but they keep me here in this damned swamp.....because I am so good at what I do?  Naw, because one day, two years ago, I opened my big fat mouth to a colonel and he made sure I would never, ever get what I wanted…..funny in’t it how things work in life?

            (He gets up and throws a bottle in the air, shoots it, it shatters in the dark.)

                                       SGT- 

But that’s not why we’re here….

I’m gonna tell you something I’m not supposed to – in fact, if anyone finds out I told you, I will probably be court-martialed for revealing top secret information, so listen good, Walter, I only tell you this once.

(Takes a deep breath, then a deep swig of the bottle)  Okay, you think you flyin west and you gonna fight the Japs, well, you goin west, but you ain’t goin to fight the Japs, you are goin to Washington.  And not Washington, D. C., but to the great state of Washington…. where it rains 370 days of the year.  (Thinks)  Funny how that is – it rains, but there are still forest fires! 

Anyhow, that’s what’s gonna happen to you and your ….troops.

(The other man moves to stand and speak, the sergeant pushes him down.)

                                                SGT

For God’s sakes, just listen!  I’m tryin’ to tell you something that could save alla your lives!

(Deep sigh)  No one wants you as paratroopers, Walter, and that’s the sad truth of it.  You know, and I know, you and your boys are damned good, but it ain’t like the boys from Tuskegee – you’d have to be fightin and landin with the white boys, and worse, eatin and sleepin with them…. and no one wants that.  Not now, at least.

So they have found something for you boys to do……you are goin to …..fight fires.

Now before you get mad, and start yellin’, listen!

The Japs are sendin over …..(hard to say without laughing)….they are sendin over balloons. 

(They laugh together.)
                                                SGT

Funny, huh?  Well, those balloons are filled with explosives….and incendiary devices. And when they land in our forests, our forests do not do well, especially since most of the firefighters are …guess where, Walter?  You guessed…they are in the Army.  All that’s left to fight these fires are old men and….girls!

So what does the government do?  It has to stop these fires before they start getting big, so they have chosen a group of boys who are trained to jump into …difficult places…that’s you, Walter.  And these men are going to be trusted with makin sure these fires do very little damage.

And for the honor of doing this, you will never be able to tell anyone what you did, because this is top secret.  And you boys are the ones.

(Walter sits, stunned, shakes his head)

                                                SGT

Before you shake your head, I want you to know that fightin fires is not such an easy job.  You are gonna be dropped  in…by plane….in to very rough areas, and all you will have is a shovel, maybe one canteen of water, and a prayer….and lemme tell you, you are gonna need those prayers.

I see the way you lookin at me – what the hell do I know about fire?

Ooh, I really didn’t want to do this….

           

            (He puts down the bottle and unbuttons his shirt.  Walter pulls away.)

Don’t be an ass, Walter, I ain’t no queer, I just want you to see something on my back….

I call it my ‘fire tattoo’…..

            (In the moonlight, we see the sergeant has his entire back covered in burn scars.  Walter    gasps, then takes a deep breath)

                                                SGT

Pretty, ain’t it?  Girls just love it, you know?  I tell em I got it from a Nazi flamethrower…..some girls‘ll believe anything…..

            (He pulls the shirt back on quickly)

                                                SGT

How’d you think I really got that, Walter?  You know how in every small Southern town there’s one ‘fire bug’….well, I was the young one.  Ol man Hawley was my teacher. He was the old fire bug….and he lived out by the dump, which was truly a great place for fires. 

            (We see the images of the sergeant as a young man,  lighting a fire in a                 darkened dump.)

There were so many great things to burn!  Old couches – they were impressive…..

            (A couch is blazing, the boy’s face is illuminated, smiling)

And the rubber tires, boy did they stink – and they burned forever!

            (We see the boy and an older man covering the burning tires with dirt.)

But sometimes, you can make a mistake……..

            (The boy is seen setting an old empty cabin on fire, which gets out of control and spreads             to the trees nearby.  The boy is afraid, and starts to run.  As he looks back, the fire is    chasing him, with tall flames.  It is terrifying)

And lemme tell you, those flames – they can get really high…higher than the mess hall, and that’s like four –stories!  (He is remembering, starts to sweat.)   And a fire is just like a human- it needs oxygen and something to eat, and it will do anything to….. satisfy those needs!

            (The fire is out of control, and the young man comes to the edge of a bank - will the fire catch him? but he escapes by jumping into the river.  Now we see the militia has been called in to stop it.  Old man Hawley and the boy watch from a distance as the fire burns, fought valiantly by the firefighters and military men)

You’d think it woulda taught me a lesson, but, you know how kids are….

            (The boy has lit something on fire in the dump, and he backs slowly away, watching it.     Hawley yells at him to run, and the boy turns, just in time, as an explosion rips through       the dump – fire tongues lashing out so that one of them hits the running boy and lights his shirt on fire.  He screams, and rolls on the ground.)

Someone musta left something like kerosene in a container and I didn’t see it….I ended up havin to go to the hospital…..

            (We see the boy in a hospital, face down, covered in bandages, with police around the      bed.)

After that, somehow…..they figured out how I must’ve been involved in the other fires, and I got a choice – prison, which you know in Georgia means a chain gang….or the Army, where I get to blow things up and make fires and get paid for it.  Guess which one I chose?

            (We see the young man, now in a uniform, boarding a bus, old man Hawley and others waving goodbye.)

Now there is one other little thing…..

            (We see the sergeant in a room with other officers, who are called away, and, after looking around, the sergeant reads the files in a briefcase…..his face changing.)

One thing that  they are not tellin you – not only will these devices have bombs and fire bombs, but they may also have something our government is afraid the Japs might use on us, something they have used to kill entire villages in China.  It’s bugs…not like cockroaches, but fancy (pronounces the word slowly)….bio…logical bugs – diseases, things like that.  So you and your boys may be the first defense…..and the fires might be the easy part of it.  After a few months of where you going, you may be wishin you was sent over to get foot fungus and a bayonet in your gut……..

            (Walter sits, takes a swig from his bottle)

                                            SGT

Why am I tellin you this?

Because when you get there, and they spring this on you, you will need to be prepared.  Now that you know, you will have the entire flight to Washington to think of a good way to make your boys feel like they are doin something important.

Because they will be – only no one will ever know.

Just like you and me, Walter, like no one will ever know about this little talk….right?

            (Walter nods, and the Sergeant sits, they both drink, as the night fades into dawn.)

End of scene

 (The light becomes the sun over Walter’s shoulders as we hear him explaining to his men just how dangerous fire is – using the sergeant’s words)

The rest of the screenplay is coming soon.  For more info, please contact-
Janet S. Tiger    858-274-9678
www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day - for a whole year! 
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down. 
     To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - click here.  
     For a list of the blurbs from each day, click here
Help  a playwright and get  more great  award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.comThank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site!
--------------------------------------------------------------
Apr. 10, 2014  Day #57  By Janet S. Tiger © 2014 all rights reserved   Monologue Mania


                                                 Mono Blog  (for the Senior Channel)(c)
                                                 By Janet S. Tiger
                                         © 2014 all rights reserved
                                             tigerteam1@gmail.com

            (Girl comes onstage, she is late teens, still a tiny bit edgy)

Hi!  I know I seem a little bit young for the Senior Channel, but I am a senior in High School, and my mom is a senior and she said that what I could share would help seniors, so that’s why I’m here, because I had mono, you know, infectious mononucleosis……and when seniors get mono it can be serious….and I had some good ideas about getting through it.   So here I am…

            (Listens)

Hey, I didn’t even have a boyfriend when I got mono!  But everybody made jokes, you know, because it’s called the kissing disease.

I guess that’s better than an STD, right?

            (She giggles, looks embarrassed for a moment, then gets a hold of herself)

But I was so sick!  I mean, I could not get out of bed!  Now sometimes I just don’t get out of bed, but this was different, I literally could not move!  I thought if the house is on fire or something, like an earthquake, what do I do?  I would just be, you know, buried in the debris because I didn’t have the energy to get out of bed and save myself!

I have never been so sick!  Even when I had strep throat, I could still move around.  It hurt, really bad, but after they gave me the antibiotics, it was ok.  And when I got my tattoo, well that didn’t even hurt as much as my throat, but anyhow, I was very sick.

Even when I started to get better, I didn’t have a lot of energy, and my mom was worried, so she got me this…thing….

            (She holds up a book)

All of you probably know what this is.  ….It’s like a retro blog…..they used to call it a journal, and you write in it every day and hope no one finds it, because it has this really flimsy lock.

            (She illustrates by opening up the journal)

 I mean you might as well put your password on as 123!

Anyhow, I started writing in it.  I hadn’t written so much since third grade! That’s  when they made us learn cursive, which is like dinosaur writing now, right?  (Thinks) My grandmother’s handwriting is so nice, I suppose a lot of you watching have good handwriting, but I mean, who writes a book by hand anymore when you have a computer?

But sitting up at the computer took too much energy, so I started doing this, and it was different.  Like seeing your words come out on screen is one thing, but when you put them on paper, it’s like (she searches for the words)…..like, the words are really part of you …..in a different way.

And, I started thinking about all the things that are different now.  I mean, George Washington didn’t have electricity or drones or a computer back in those days, he used a pen – ok, it was one of those feather pen things, but it was like me, using a pen…..with ink, ink that gets on your fingers and your clothes. 

And I wondered what he was thinking, when he was the President, and wrote the Constitution, you know…..(thinking)…well, maybe he didn’t write it, I can’t remember, but I think he signed it….and maybe one day, someone will read this journal….

It’s like I was connected to everyone who ever wrote something with a pen…..like Louisa May Alcott, or Jane Austen….I liked their books!

It looks different when you don’t have to print it to see it in your hands….and mistakes are different, too… not like spellcheck which fixes all that stuff, every mistake stays there, so people can see it, like forever.  All your problems, saved.

Anyhow, here’s the funny thing.  I decided to do a blog about this….and I called it…’Mono Blog’ and it turns out a lotta people have mono – and I put up some of the ideas on how to get through it, and some doctors group contacted me, and now I kinda work for them, because the blog is really popular! 

But I do love writing the old time way – and I still do it, every night.  And, if you get sick, it’s a really good way to pass the time.  So, maybe, when you get a chance, all of you guys can do a journal, like in the olden days!

            Bye!

            (She giggles and goes to leave, turns back)

I almost forgot!....…So that’s not the funny part….

One guy who wrote to the blog sounded nice, not like some old guy pretending to be young, those are freaks!  No, this guy asked where I went to school, and even though my Mom said never tell stuff like that…. I told him, and guess what?  You’ll never guess!  He goes to my school!  And his name is Kelso, and we met up at lunch, and now we’re kinda going together!

So that was the funny thing…..I didn’t get mono from my boyfriend, I got a boyfriend from my mono…..blog!

            (She giggles and almost skips off.  The end)

Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day - for a whole year! 
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down. 
     To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - click here.  
     For a list of the blurbs from each day, click here
Help  a playwright and get  more great  award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com
Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site!
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Apr. 9, 2014  Day #56 by Janet S. Tiger  © all rights reserved 2014 



                                           The Very Best Revenge Song (c)
                                        (For the Senior Channel)
                                            by Janet S. Tiger 
                                        © all rights reserved 2014 
                                            tigerteam1@gmail.co

            (A country singer comes onstage.  She is very country, and very mad)

What do you mean, you can’t figure out what to write for me?  I done told you a hundred times – I want mad, because I am mad!  I’ve been cheated on, stomped on, even spit on by men, so I want – and how difficult is this to understand?- I want to get even- I want REVENGE!  I am the ultimate – what did they call it on that TV show -  of the Get Even Girls!

            (Listens)

What was that word you used?  Bellicose?  I know what it means – it’s a Southern word, meaning I want REVENGE!

Of course I want revenge – in a song there are no consequences… (thinks)– how I wish that were true in real life…..

And I don’t care how I get it!  I can use a shotgun or a 45, I can use a chainsaw or the keys… on his car, I can use a bomb or  I can burn him out – ooh, I like that, haven’t heard a good burn-out song yet, have we?

My heart was a –burnin’ when I got the yearnin’ to see how you was doing…and I saw you….doin’ my best friend!

    (She starts to move to the words)

Ooh, ooh, where will it end?

Prob’ly in hell, cause these things never end well….

And I see red, I see fire…..I’m gonna get him, the big fat liar!

Fire!

Burning down my heart!

Fire!

Gonna end what you start!

Fire!

Ooh….

            (She dances wildly to the music in her head)

That’s what I want!  Fire!  And I can do it all……(thinking)…I can shoot him, too....

            (She runs around illustand run him over with a car, like Carrie did, and I can poison and stab, you name it, when I am done with that bastard, there will not be another song left to write!  Except maybe with an atomic bomb!  Ooh…I like that….can we get one of those for the video?  Not a real one, you idiot!  Just a baby bomb…..nuclear ……better stay clear cause my hate for you is damned nuclear…okay, we’ll work on that rhyme….

            (Stops for a moment, reflective)

How dare he think he can stand me up?  Like a two-bit piece of trash he met at the local bar?  He will never forget it, because this song is gonna be all about him….Hit it boys, and when I say ‘hit it’…I mean hit it!

            (She raises her arms and walks off.  End of monologue, beginning of a                     Grammy-winning country song.)

  Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day - for a whole year! 
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down. 
     To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - click here.  
     For a list of the blurbs from each day, click here
Help  a playwright and get  more great  award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com
Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site!
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Apr. 8, 2014  Day #55 Dibs by Janet S. Tiger  © all rights reserved 2014 



               Dibs (c)
                                            by Janet S. Tiger 
                                        © all rights reserved 2014 
                                            tigerteam1@gmail.com

            (A young man comes out onstage.  He looks calm, but his hands shake a bit             as he tries to light a cigarette.)

(Hesitant) Dibs.  What a great word, huh?  I mean, when I was a kid, I was great at ‘dibs’.  I learned from the master.  My grampa…..he was great.  My grampa taught me that dibs was the most powerful word in the whole world!

If you saw something you liked, something you wanted….all you had to say was….’dibs’ and it was yours, reserved for all time.  Like the dog that was lost and nobody wanted…dibs!  He’s mine now….no one can take him away!

And for the last piece of chicken – dibs!  Even my old man would let me have it, because he recognized the power of the word.

            (He licks his lips)

Candy…dibs! 

            (He points up, tries to reach something)

And the last nerf shooter on the shelf before Christmas – dibs!

Everybody knows that dibs is the word!  Forget grease…it’s dibs…..

I couldn’t help it if that new guy didn’t know the rules, I mean where was he from anyhow?  The moon?  Puerto Rico?  I mean, Gina was my girl, and I said dibs on her.  Okay, I hadn’t asked her out yet, because …well, she is the prettiest girl in the school, and a cheerleader, too.  And she likes me, I know, and none of the guys would even THINK of asking her out because when she moved to our school, I saw her first!  I said ‘DIBS’!

And every guy respects that!

So why did he ask her to the Homecoming Dance?  Why?

He just did it to make trouble!

            (He opens his jacket, there is blood on his shirt, he winces when he                     touches it.)

He got in a few good hits…..so did I.  I couldn’t help it if he fell down and hit his head…..it was ignorance, you know, he just didn’t understand the word….dibs.

            (He exits.)

Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day - for a whole year! 
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down. 
     To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - click here.  
     For a list of the blurbs from each day, click here
Help  a playwright and get  more great  award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com
Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site!

Apr. 7, 2014  Day #54  Fat Lady Singing  Monologue Mania   (for the Senior Channel)

                                       Fat Lady Singing (c)
                                             by Janet S. Tiger 
                                        © all rights reserved 2014 
                                            tigerteam1@gmail.com

            (A man comes out onstage – he is dressed formally, can even be a penguin             suit tux if the   actor has one.    He is older, very stiff back, very annoyed,             trying to hide it, not doing   well.)

Hello, my dear friends here in the audience and out in TV land.  The Senior Channel has graciously allowed me to make my closing remarks for this season, the last season of our opera company….

            (Listens, starts to ruffle)

I will not put up with heckling from the crowd! 

            (He looks to the side)

They told me there would be no ruffians!  That the audience was screened!

            (Listens, calms a bit)

All right.  I want to tell everyone in our city that I have been very honored to be the head of our illustrious opera company these past 20 years…..the finest I think in our history…..

            (Listens, raises his fist)

I just love all you people who have to complain!  Yes, we are closing down the opera!  Why?  Because none of you ever came to it, that’s why!  And we had to beg you for money, every year, year in and year out and you would tell us…(imitates voices)  …’I don’t have money, my stocks are down this year….’…..(another voice)…’But this year the IRS took all my extra!  I can’t help….’…..or my favorite…..’My mother-in-law cancelled her subscription after you had a naked horse onstage….if I donate, I will certainly offend her!’

(Getting very agitated) But now…..NOW…..that we are trying to close this on a professional, yes, even on a civilized note….all of you nutjobs come out of the woodwork to say ‘We want an opera!’

(Almost ranting) Where were you fifteen years ago - when we had more performers onstage than in the audience?

(Ranting)  Where were you when we gave free admission to youngsters and begged for you to bring your children, to introduce them to the joys of beautiful music – instead of that crap they listen to nonstop on those damned earphones!  I’ll tell you where you were!  You were at the beach!

            (He sputters, takes a handkerchief out of his pocket)

(Calms a bit) Well, I have news for you – all of you! – you won’t have the opera to kick around anymore!  We are quitting and there’s nothing you can do about it!

            (He moves as if to dodge something that was thrown)

Now that’s very classy!  What did you throw?  A rotten tomato?  Oooh, that’s scary – not to me, because I don’t care anymore….what does it say about all of you who can only react when there is a big story on Facebook or Twitter?  What does it say that all you care about is how you will look on the evening news?

What does it say……

            (He brings his hands to his face – this one hit him.  He wipes off the icky                 stuff with his     hands, then a handkerchief, folding it carefully, then                     putting it away.)

I guess that says it all…..go ahead, send in money to keep this silly opera going!  See if I care!

            (He turns to leave, squares his shoulders, he is hit again, from the back.                  He doesn’t turn,   just walks off, and, we hear him singing….’Toreador…..’              At the edge of the stage, he leans to someone in the wings.)

I hope that brought in enough money.  (Listens)  Yes, I suppose I will do anything for…..opera.

            (He smiles, exits.  The opera is saved!)

  Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day - for a whole year! 
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down. 
     To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - click here.  
     For a list of the blurbs from each day, click here
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To better understand today's monologue, please read the first part of this scene on Jam  Day #51, the yesterday's Tea Leaves Day #52
(Another monologue with T is on Day # 15 Lost and Profound)


(This continues from Day #52 and Day #51)
Monologue Mania Day #53 –  -Apr. 6, 2014                                                  

                               Tea Leaves (cont.)
                                                                             from THE BOOK OF TEAS  (c)
                               by Janet S. Tiger 
                                                 (c) all rights reserved 2014
                                          tigerteam1@gmail.com

            (T touches her daughter’s arm, and gently pulls her to sit down.)

T-  (Quiet but strong)  You want to know when to leave, do you?  And you think that is an easy question for anyone to help you with?

My dear daughter, that is the question of all time – from the minute you are conceived!  That’s right, from the moment those two cells meet, they can hardly wait to leave your belly.  Sometimes, they try to leave too early, with disastrous results.  Too soon, and there is no chance to survive.  But when is the right time?  Is eight months enough?  Now it usually is, when I was a little girl, eight months meant oven time – that baby was put into the oven and kept on a low flame until it was fully cooked…..until the hospitals had incubators, that is.

Now, I have heard about babies of six months survivin, but the real issue is always, when do they leave that womb?

And then, once they are out, when do they..... just leave?

I remember when your brother was born, I asked my mother, how do you leave them alone, a baby is so helpless?

And she said to me, ‘oh, don’t worry, T, it’ll happen, in fact, before you know it, he’ll be runnin away…..’  And he was.  And you were…..walkin, then runnin, then off to school, and before you know it, leavin home to go to college, or the Army, or get married……it’s all leavin, and at the end of it all, and that’s what you face when you get older….

            (She turns away, this is harder)

……you have to look at leavin this world for the next.

When is it the right time?  When do you stop fightin to see the next sunrise? When do you say, enough?   Do you really have a choice?  I don’t know – I think it is one of those questions with two answers – yes, you have a choice, and no, at some time, you don’t.

But which is that time?

I think there is a time to show your children and grandchildren how to fight, to keep at it, and then, there is another time, like when my Uncle passed.  I was with him, you know, Uncle……., he was in the hospital waitin……and the nurse’s ran in and they started poking him and one asked me to find out if it was ok to give him a needle of something, and I asked him if it was ok, and he grabbed my hand, real tight, like this…..

            (She illustrates by grabbing her daughter’s hand)

And he looked deep into my eyes, and it was a very peaceful look, a happy look, as if he had seen the other side, and it was nice, and he said, ‘T, it’s….O..K……’

And the nurses shooed me outta there, and he died, but I knew he was OK, because he told me so, and even though I cried, I was never really afraid of death again.

Now, you, right now, are facin a death of a different kind – the death of a dream, the end of an era….and there will be pain.  If you leave him, and it’s the right thing, it will be the beginning of a good era, but just like all changes of the tide, there will be churning of the sands.

And if you decide to be the patient peach jam….well, that is a decision, too.  You have young children.

Will it be better to have a runaround husband as an example to them?  To keep the peace, to keep a father in the house?  Your father was many annoying things, but he never cheated.  That I knew, just like I knew your man was a cheater….and don’t ask me how I knew, I think every woman knows.  You knew.  From the time at the weddin rehearsal when you caught him with one of your cousins.  His excuse of bein drunk was accepted by you, but everyone on earth knew that was just the beginning.

So is this the end?  Is this enough?  Only you know honey.  And there will be pain if you stay – a pain you know, and maybe that’s easier.   

Nothing is without pain – birth has pain, life has pain, death has pain – isn’t that what the Orientals say?  Or is it the Buddhists?  I never remember all those foreign religions…..  But I do know that whole thing about turnin the other cheek may be good on paper in the Bible, but in real life, it just gets you some sore cheeks…..

            (She hugs her daughter)

There.  (Takes a deep breath)  So you asked me and that is my answer – for whatever it’s worth.

Funny, I’ve been thinkin about this conversation ever since the day you married him.  Sometimes the future is just so clear, and yet, for the other person, it’s as if they have on a blindfold. 

I suppose, you just saw your children in his eyes…..and that, my dear daughter, is all that matters.  And …..whatever else you decide, we both know those children won’t be young forever.  

            (Lights down.  End of scene)

Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day - for a whole year! 
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down. 
     To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - click here.  
     For a list of the blurbs from each day, click here
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Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site!
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To better understand today's monologue, please read yesterday's - Jam  Day #51
(Another monologue with T is on Day # 15 Lost and Profound)

Apr. 5, 2014  Day #52    Tea Leaves  (for Book of Teas)- Monologue Mania  (c) 2014

                                          Tea Leaves    (c) 2014       (for the Book of Teas)
                                      by Janet S. Tiger
                                    (c) all rights reserved  2014                                      
                                     tigerteam1@gmail.com

            (This continues where yesterday left off, with T in the kitchen with her                 daughter, Vivien.  When T finishes telling about the jam, Vivien   just                     sits, then starts to laugh)

Vivien-  Peach jam……I remember putting up jam with you when I was just a little girl.  (thinking back)  I still remember how you used to announce the canning season…..you’d say (good imitation of her mother) …’Is ev’ryone ready to put summer in a jar?’  And the boys would laugh and say….’how do you put summer in a jar, mama?’  And you would say, ‘That’s what I’m gonna teach you!  Don’t stand there like you were as dumb as a bagful of hammers – get me the jars!’

            (She gets up to illustrate the story)

Vivien- And then you would have us do all the things little kids could do – we would bring in the glass jars from the pantry, where they had been stored since the last jars of put up had been eaten.  And we would sit and inspect those jars for cracks – how long did you take to think of that job, mama?  Or did your mama do that with you? And after the jars were deemed acceptable for use, we would open up the new package of lids……(imitates) ‘never use an old lid! If it leaks you could die of the swelling!’  This would be followed by a tale of woe, with some poor family that had died a truly horrible death - all because of botulism, caused by dirty jars...or using old lids!

What a way to teach us all about kitchen cleanliness!  After eating jam at my other friend’s houses, I used to worry that their mothers might not have been as careful as you, and something horrible got into the jam….and were my fingers swelling?

And then the peaches were put into the warm water to soften, so you could peel off the peels with your fingers….that was a fun job, too.  And by the time young interest levels had started to wain, it was time for the boiling part – and for young ones,-no boiling water, of course!  To work with the boiling water, that was the ultimate sign of growing up!  So we would all be sent out to play, while you and Ella   would finish the task.  And then, in a few months, when the rains had started, usually after a particularly bad week, out would come the jars……(imitates) ‘I think it’s time for summer!’  And oh, my, it truly did taste like summer!  On those hot biscuits, the taste of the peaches was so good……you could close your eyes, and it would BE summer!

            (Thinks back fondly, starts to laugh)

Vivien-  (Still thinks it’s funny)  I still find it amazing that no matter what the issue, a Southerner can find a way to relate it to food.

From the earliest days of our youth, we hear analogies that make it a wonder that we are not all fat as a house!  A child who is not so fast as the others is a pudding..... slow and set in their ways!   Or…slower than molasses in January.  If you run around in a lightning storm, you better beware, or you could be….fried like a chicken for Sunday dinner!  Or if something was particularly wonderful it was…’gooder than a turnip green sandwich….which I never understood because who in God’s green earth actually likes  turnip green sandwiches?  And of course, my favorite – (imitates an old lady)  ‘Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit!’

And now, to this wisdom-filled collection, you add the …jam.  Tell me, mama, do you think this story warrants repeating to others?  Or was it saved, like the last jar of peach jam, just for me?

And what am I supposed to be in this story, Mama?  I am the peach jam, right? Ooh, I like that- I am…the jam.  It’s got a Dr. Seuss-like sound to it.  (Sings)  I am the jam, I am, I am.

                                    (Shakes her head)

 I am the peach jam waiting for the man to give up his lust for the exotic raspberry jam, and return home to find me, still delicious after all these months.  It is …..delicious!

(More upset)  But think about it – am I supposed to be a jar of old jam, just sitting there, cold in that refrigerator – with that crusty stuff on the top that comes with years of dehydration.  Is that me, Mama?  Is that really what you think I am?

(Getting really upset) Well, perhaps you didn’t realize it, but I want to know something much more important – when do I know if it’s time for your little jar of peach jam to get sick of waiting…..and leave?

            (She sits heavily, tired)

Do you have an answer for that, Mama?  Perhaps you could make a story up for that question – maybe I could be a pot roast in this story….the little pot roast that could…..that could leave….

            (She drinks the last of the tea and stands up)

Well, mama......(sarcastically) you've been a great help...thanks for listening..and thanks for the tea and…. jam…..session…

            (She turns to leave, but her mother touches her arm……to be continued –             on tomorrow’s blog entry!)

Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day - for a whole year! 
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down. 
     To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - click here.  
     For a list of the blurbs from each day, click here
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Apr. 4, 2014  Day #51     for Book of Teas - Jam    Monologue Mania 

                    Jam(c) 2014
                                    (for the Book of Teas)
                                      by Janet S. Tiger
                                    (c) all rights reserved                                        
                                     tigerteam1@gmail.com


(T comes out - she is talking with her daughter at this point in the play, and they are in the kitchen.)

Before I give you any advice, dear daughter, I would have to ask somethin very important.

What kind of jam do you want with your toast?

             (Listens)

Of course I made toast - you can't have tea with nothin first thing in the mornin - if you can't eat breakfast, at least have some toast, and toast without jam, is like life without a little sugar.

            (Listens)


I thought so - that peach jam was your favorite even when you were a little girl.

It just so happens I put some up last fall.

Here...

            (She prepares the toast and jam while talking)

Jam has a powerful lesson for people, my dear.  Most people do not even understand this lesson, but it is as clear as the nose on your face. Or, in the case of television, other unfortunate body parts, but that is another cable story.

Most people, once they decide on which jam is their favorite, they use that jam for the rest of their lives.  And why not?  Who wants to be makin a decision first thing in the mornin?  It's bad enough getting up early, and the chores....so jam is a constant.....in an everchangin world.

Am I right?  Of course I am, mam's always right.  That's another constant.

So with your mornin tea - or coffee - you take your toast and butter it up, and put on that same old jam.  Year in, year out.  And you only notice it when you don't have any, and you have to remember to put it on the shopping list, and the next time you are tunnin low, you remember to put it on the list early.....so you do not get to that jar and find it empty, except for one dab your husband left you.

That, too is another story.

But years march by, and then, one day, you are in a different city, maybe Macon, or wherever.  You are in a new grocery store, one you have never shopped in before, and probably never will again.

And there, on the shelf, next to the usual jams- the strawberry, the peach, the grape.. - is somethin new.  It is ......an exotic jam.  A Jam from far away.  (Misty eyed)  From....France!  And it is a ...RASPBERRY jam.....and right there on the label it says....'made from a secret recipe'......which you know probably means that someone's grandmother told them to put a pat of butter in to stop there from bein too much foamin, but it is so ....different! 

And you look at the price - and that tiny jar is ten times the cost of your regular jam!

            (Listens)

All right, maybe not ten times, maybe only...three times....you know numbers are not my strong point, dear.

But don't interrupt a good story, let me finish!

Where was I?  So you buy this horribly expensive jam, and you bring it home, and you wait until no one is around, because you don't want to share it, and you open it up......

            (She shudders, remembering the sensation)

And you smell that delicious aroma and you know it was worth every penny!

And you spread it on the bread, which have toasted exactly how you want, because no one is around to bother you, and you even ignore the phone when it rings, because you want the first taste to be remembered on a piece of perfectly toasted, just the right temperature toast.

            (She closes her eyes, shakes her head in happiness)

Mmmmmm.....that first taste, what a sensation!  It is everything you were expecting and more!  You even have three pieces of toast, because it is so good!

And you have that raspberry jam every day, for weeks and weeks, and when it starts to run down in the jar, you start to get nervous...will you have to run to Macon just to buy a jar of jam?  It is certainly not worth that trip - or is it?  First you do a little investigatin, and you find out you can actually buy this rare, exotic jam from that strange new store in the next town, that sells all the odd foods - and for less money than you spent in Macon!

And this goes on for months, until one day you wake up, and you go to make your toast, and you realize......the raspberry jam does not taste as fresh….and you want your old peach jam again.

And you take a taste of that peach jam and it is DELICIOUS!  And the jar of raspberry jam sits in your refrigerator for years, because it turns out that no one else in your family - including your husband who will eat almost anything - likes raspberry jam.......so it sits there until someone says,'what are you saving this for, anyways?' And you refuse to discard it, because it brings back those memories of tryin somethin new.

And that is ……jam.

            (Listens)

Of course there is a point to this story!  Weren't your listenin?

Men - and some women, too, for that matter - do not handle sayin 'no' to new jam when it is offered to them.......

They have to try it - as many different kinds as they can.

And that is your husband's problem, and it has been, all along.  And you knew it before you married him…… and you know it now.

You just have to decide if you want to be.....the peach jam he comes home to… when the other jam loses its....new flavor.



            (End of monologue, not of scene)




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

Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day - for a whole year! 
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down. 
     To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - click here.  
     For a list of the blurbs from each day, click here
Help  a playwright and get  more great  award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com
Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site!
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Apr. 3, 2014 Day #50 Monologue Mania    

            Response to Mummy Dearest
                        (for the Senior Channel's Day #49)
                                    by Janet S. Tiger
                                © 2014 all rights reserved
                                    tigerteam1@gmail.com

            (A woman in her fifties comes onstage, nice-looking, dressed professionally, every hair in place. She has a stack of books in her hand.  She is faintly annoyed.)

Hello, thank you for having me here on such short notice on …Senior Moments.

I am usually not one to complain, but the gentleman who was here last week about the animal mummification just got my dander up!  I was horrified at his request – to contact scientists encouraging them to desist from their attempts to understand the universe. Please do not humor this man’s request to stop science! 

For those of you who did not watch him, I will summarize by saying that he made the claim that he was still here on earth for over 2000 years because he and his family were able to keep themselves alive due to (scornful) ‘secret’ family methods learned during the Egyptian era.  Hmmph!  I beg to differ!

             (Holds open one of the books)

I am an expert in the field, but you don’t have to trust me – a trained researcher – you see, anyone can do just a tiny bit of research – on the Internet, or better yet, in real books in real libraries!- and if you do, you will learn that his supposition is ….at best, ridiculous!

The man made it sound as if being a ‘Priest of Anubis’ was something very special – well, most of the populace looked down on those people!

And I must also point out that, had he been honest, he would have admitted that when he died, he was subjected to the proving – how he would be allowed into the underworld.  This was done with the very scientific feather of truth!

            (She opens another book, removes a feather.)

 To be accepted into the afterlife, his heart would have to be lighter than this –

            (Waves the feather around.)

And here is the reality – if he and his family had been cheating people – telling them the mummies were their beloved animals, but instead (very disgusted) using rocks and dirt! – then when he got to the trial of Osiris, (reverent)  the judge of the dead…. in the hall of truth….

Then this is what would have happened…. Behold the feather of Ma’at, the feather of truth and harmony!

            (She holds up the feather in one hand, with the books in her other hand,                 imitating a scale, the side with the books droops way down.  Snorts                     derisively)

Not a chance for the afterlife!

            (She drops the books on the ground.)

And then his cheating heart would be dropped to the floor…..

            (She drops the books.)

………where it would be eaten by the god Amenti….the one with the body of a rhino and the face …..of a crocodile!  Mmmmm…good!

            (She smiles, licking her lips.)

(Quieter)  And his life- and soul, I may add, would be relegated to a fate worse than death – the eternal fate of …non-existence! 

Unless of course, he begged, and there was always a chance if he begged enough and said the appropriate words….’I am pure’ 61 times, perhaps, just perhaps, he might be allowed to live…. forever…… with one unpleasant requirement.

So, in conclusion, I propose that he – and his family -  are still alive due to a much more rational reason – he and his family….are cursed.

Now, for some reason, the discovery of the false mummifications will probably make the curse be rescinded, and he will be relegated to a nothingness again…..or maybe he just likes it here….who knows?  But one way or the other, the scientific conclusion I have reached is that

the only logical explanation for this is…..a curse.

For those unaware of the power of ancient curses, you may be interested in taking one of the classes I offer through the senior education division of the local community college, the information will be shown on the screen as I walk away….like this….

            (She walks out, pausing to pick up the feather and wave it at the crowd.                 Lights down. )

----------------------------------------------------     

Resources-

http://www.ancient.eu.com/article/42/