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
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Monologue Mania Day # 108 by Janet S. Tiger  The Invisible Monologue  (c) May 31, 2014
   
                                       The Invisible Monologue
                                                by Janet S. Tiger  
                                     c) May 27, 2014     all rights reserved
                                          tigerteam1@gmail.com

                (The announcer comes onstage, waving at the audience.)

Wasn't that a fantastic act?  Please, another well-deserved round of applause for Mildred and her dancing monkey!

              (The announcer claps and encourages the audience to do the same.)

And now, for something completely different......and not Monty Python different, just plain old.....(searches for a word).......different......We proudly present......Danny Taylor performing his world famous........can we get a drum roll please?.......Danny Taylor and his..........(Loud ) .....Invisible monologue!

             (The announcer stands aside and 'watches' the monologue, starting to laugh immediately, then getting slowly more hysterical until the announcer is on the floor twirling in a circle while laughing.  Finally, the announcer gets up and indicates the 'performer')

Let's here it for the magnificent Danny!

             (The announcer wipes eyes and waves as the 'performer' leaves. )

You see why we saved the best for last!  That just gets better every time I see it!  And thank you - you've been a wonderful audience......

             (Exits, but looks back)

And you should have seen the rehearsals....they were amazing, too!  You can catch the bloopers on youtube....see you next year!

             (Exits.  Even though it's invisible, you can see it's -The end.)

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

------------------------------------------------------------------
Monologue Mania Day # 107 by Janet S. Tiger 1352 Sabbaths  (c) May 30, 2014

                                          1352 Sabbaths
                                                by Janet S. Tiger  
                                     c) May 27, 2014     all rights reserved
                                          tigerteam1@gmail.com


            (A man comes onstage.  He is young, but walks like an old man, and is wearing a yarmulke.  He carries two candlesticks that he puts onto a table.  He has a slight Polish accent.)

Welcome!  I'm so glad you could join me.

Tonight is a special night.  Tonight is the Sabbath.

Friday night, the seventh day.  God rested.

And so should we.

Twenty-six years of Sabbaths I spent in my home in Ozerov.....I was born in the middle of World War I, on Oct. 22nd, 1916, and the thirteen hundred fifty two Sabbaths I spent in Ozerov ended during World War II, when I was deported with most of the Jewish population on my 26th birthday, Oct. 22, 1942.

In the camps, I figured out that 26 years of Sabbaths was 1352 Sabbaths.  One does strange things to pass the time when you know that every minute could be your last.   I used to try to remember the Sabbaths I had spent with my family.  I had no way of recalling the earliest, but I had been told that my first Sabbath was special, that many family members had traveled far, as I was the first boy born into my father’s family in two generations.

First Sabbath.  I could remember many of the Sabbaths, the smells of the challah and the chicken cooking.  When things had gone well at the market, sometimes a roast.  But always some delicious pastry for the end of the meal.  And I could taste the love in the house.  Of course, there were the arguments, too – had we washed our hands, not to bump the table or else the wine would spill, was my sister too friendly with one of the workers in my father’s booth…….

My birthday in 1942 fell the day before Sabbath, on a Thursday.  The day we were taken away on the trains to our deaths.  Most of us.  Of the Jewish portion of Ozerov, I was one of a few dozen survivors.

We celebrated Sabbath on the train, as best we could.  A rabbi said the prayers when someone said they saw the first star through cracks in the boards.

No lighting candles, no challah, no wine…no food or water.  Just the prayers.  And yet I remember that Sabbath as clearly as if it was yesterday.

            (He takes candles from his pockets and puts them into the candlesticks.)

Usually, it is the woman of the house who lights the candles and says the prayers.  But my wife is long gone, so I do this when I am not at one of my grandchildren’s houses.  Usually I am there, but sometimes, I like to be in my own home.  They tell me that’s normal for a survivor,  even after many years of freedom, we  still crave moments of independence, of control.

            (He takes out a match and lights the candles, saying the prayer quietly.)

These candlesticks are the only thing I have left from that time.

They were buried by my mother at the grave of her grandmother, one of the few remaining Jewish cemeteries in Poland, the Sunday before we were deported.  I was with her that day, and as she covered filled the hole with dirt, she told me that one day we would come back and claim them.

After the war, I was the only surviving member of my family, and I went to the United States, not wanting to return to Ozerov to see the ghosts of my previous life.

I married, and had a family, like most of the survivors did.  And I did well for myself, in business, in family.  I was lucky.

One day, after the Communist regimes fell, I had the strangest urge to……go home.  In a strange way, where you are born will always be a home, and Ozerov was mine.  So, with you, my grandchildren, I returned.  For your friends here tonight, it must seem strange.  They have all been born and raised in this sunshine of freedom, but to return to Ozerov, that was different.  We came to the Jewish section, and, of course, there were no Jews anymore, not living ones, at least.  And we went to the cemetery.

Many of the graves had been robbed and desecrated, but not my grandmother’s.  With a small hand tool, we dug around the headstone, and…….no candlesticks.

We dug on the other side, at the foot.  No candlesticks. All these years, had I remembered it correctly?

As it was beginning to get dark, we decided, ganug, enough, and put the earth back in place.

Just as we turned to leave, a woman approached.  She was older, and we had seen her when we entered.

She greeted us oddly, as we knew by the cross around her neck that she was not Jewish.

‘Good Shabbas,’ she said, and when we looked surprised, she asked what we were doing in Ozerov.  When we told her, she explained she knew we were coming, and she wanted to be sure who we were before she spoke to us.

Then she took out a large package, wrapped in paper and string and handed it to me.

‘I saw your mother bury this many years ago,’ she told us, ‘and I knew the paper would not protect anything for long, so I dug it up to save for her.  Your mother was a good woman, she and your father were always fair to us at the market, not like some of the others, who were thieves…’

She spit at the thought.

‘So here it is, may she know that I kept these safe, hidden from the Nazis, then the crazy people after the war, then the Communists……please say a prayer for me when you light them.’

We stayed in contact with her until her death, and now that I approach my 5000th Sabbath, I say a prayer for all those who perished, and all those who survived, and those who helped.

You are probably wondering, how do I look so young, when I am almost 100 years old?  The secret is that on the Sabbath, everyone has a chance to be young, because ......although the Sabbath is the end of the week, at the end of the Sabbath, it is the beginning .....of a new week.  


Shabbat Shalom…….

            (He bows his head, turns to leave, looks back

And many more.

            (He exits.)

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
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Monologue Mania Day # 106 by Janet S. Tiger Locked Out (c) May 29, 2014

                               Locked Out
                                                by Janet S. Tiger  
                                     c) May 27, 2014     all rights reserved
                                          tigerteam1@gmail.com

             (An older woman comes onstage, she is waving a handful of keys on assorted rings.)

Locked Out!  Of course I know that I have been locked out ten times in the last month - for heaven's sake, I was the one locked out!

All of you think I am going senile- and maybe I am, who knows?  But I believe....

          (She leans over conspiratorilly)

............these keys are actually cursed!

I have no idea by whom, of course, but why else would they disappear?  There is no other logical explanation!

Even now, when I keep three sets outside - just in case- they still disappear.  Of course I realize that the unfortunate thing, is that when I use a set, I often forget to replace it in its hiding place outside!  This way, when I get locked out again, I go crazy looking for a set of keys that isn't there in the first place...or maybe it's in the second place......ooh, this is confusing!

          (She holds the keys up to her ears)

I was thinking of having earrings made with them - don't laugh, I've seen bigger earrings on the young people!  Maybe I'd start a new fad, who knows?  But I decided it wasn't a good idea, because if I lost the keys, my head would go with it, and losing my marbles is hard enough, what would I do if I misplaced my head?

          (Shakes her head, annoyed)

All right, I will try not to joke about it.  I realize it is rough for you to come running and make new keys every time this happens.  But at least we have keys....

           (She looks off, she is remembering)

When I was twelve, it was the middle of the depression, and my father was dead, and it was hard for my mother to get enough work as a seamstress to pay all the bills.  So....we had to move a lot, and one time, they actually locked us out.  We came back to our apartment, and all our things were on the street.  Everything.  Even my box of underwear - we didn't have dressers, it was too hard to move, so we had boxes.  The keys didn't work, and one of the neighbors told us what had happened. 

The funny thing is, I thought it was kind of fun, exciting in a way, new - but perhaps that is the difference between twelve and 86!

          (Sighs deeply)

So I suppose - in some strange way -  that is why, my dear children, I am so odd about keys.  And why I give to every charity for the homeless, and why I hope you understand that......I am now....... ready to give up my keys. 

          (Listens, takes a deep breath)

I know you're all happy.  Now you can fight about who gets crazy old me.......this is not an easy decision, but I think, based on this last time, when I almost fell out of the window breaking into my own place, and the police had to help me when I got stuck there........it is time.

So......here they are......all of them.......

           (She drops the keys on the floor)

I only keep one key........

           (She clasps her hands over her chest)

The key to my heart - and that, one, my dear children, you already have all the copies.

         (She turns to leave, picks up the keys, looks at them, then walks off, head high.  The end - of living alone - for now.)

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
--------------------------------------------------------------------
May 28, 2014 Day #105 by Janet S. Tiger  Monologue Mania

                                  Into Each Life
                                           (from the Book of Teas)
                                              by Janet S. Tiger  
                                     (c) May 28, 2014     all rights reserved
                                              tigerteam1@gmail.com

              (T comes out, carrying a dustpan and brush.  She is shaking her head. She still has a Southern accent, and she sweeps as she talks.)

I don't see what the big problem is with sweepin.  When you are young, sweepin can be so much fun!  I remember my mama making sweepin into a game - and I did the same with my children.  Cleanin the toilets, now that's a different kettle of fish - but the floor is one way you can see results instantly.  Many jobs do not have that advantage. 

Dishes are finished, but then, as if some God has deemed you as a modern day Sisyphus, the dishes re-appear, like magic.  But floors, you can stand back and look at them and tell people to stay off and they will listen.

Now if you are old, sweepin becomes a chore.  As so many entertainments of youth become.  But as long as I do not have to bend, I still enjoy this.  Sweepin has a rhythm, and you can think while you sweep.  Not the same as when you are cookin, where one mistake can be very painful to yourself or the people eating.

You tell me that you are upset, well, upset is normal after a big event in a life.

My Aunt Nettie put me straight about that type of thing.  It was right before you were born, dear, and there was a tornado.  Unusual for these parts, but not impossible, as I found out.  We were lucky, it just damaged the garage, but, it just so happened that, before the tornado, in a fit of cleaning, I had put some boxes of letters from friends and relatives into the rafters. And since the roof of the garage was damaged, a large family of unpleasant rats took up residence.  Our family cat had disappeared in the tornado, never to return.  I guess the term 'flyin' fur' would apply there.

And I did not see that the rats had decided my box of letters was a wonderful place to set up winter housekeeping.  I heard noises when I went to start the car, but thought nothing of it until one day, I saw the Daddy rat - he was a big one, and I took a rake and, using my extreme intelligence, poked up into a hole in the rafters in a misguided attempt to dislodge him and his family.

           (She uses the broom to illustrate)

The poking opened up a larger hole, and the rats - Daddy, Mama and the whole bunch of baby rats proceeded to.....fall on my head!

It's possible they were more frightened than I was, but I doubt that very strongly.  I screamed and everyone came runnin out to see what had happened now to mama.  Oooh, did they laugh!  It was so funny to see me runnin to take a shower to wash the rat pooh out of my hair!  And I was pregnant, remember, so this was yet another great tale to spread throughout the neighborhood.

And the clean-up was the best part - I had to get rid of all the rat pooh, and then the tragedy became apparent, like one of those unfolding Shakespear stories where you find out that just when things were gettin bad, they get worse.

In the dropping of the droppings, my box of letters had fallen - and it turns out rats really enjoy nesting in paper.  The letters were covered in rat pooh.

I recall sittin and just shakin my head.  My Aunt Netty had come to help with your brothers, and she saw me out there, and wanted to know (as Aunt Netty, rather breathless)  Oh, dear, what seems to be the matter?

I told her, and she said, 'well, dear, into each life, a little rat shit must fall.'  This was a surprise as I didn't know Netty could use language like that.

But Aunt Netty, everything is a mess!  Look at this place!

'As I recall,' she reminded me, 'you have survived a tornado, am I correct?'

         (She nods)

'And when you get right down to it, it's better to be sweepin up rat shit than pushin up daisies......am I right?'

She was right, and if you can remember this wisdom without bein reminded, you will go far in happiness in this life.

Now, why don't you tell me what the problem is in your life.....

         (She holds out the broom)

And we'll see how big a broom you need.

         (End of monologue.  Scene continues)

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

           Note to actors-

On June 6th, there will be a meeting at Scripteasers, the longest running new-play reading group in the country (maybe the world!) of selected monologues from this first 100plus.  For more info Scripteasers.org, and to read one of these monologues that night, please contact – tigerteam1@gmail.com

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
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Monologue Mania Day # 104 by Janet S. Tiger Senior Junior High (c) May 27, 2014

                                   Senior Junior High

                                                by Janet S. Tiger   

                                     c) May 27, 2014     all rights reserved

                                          tigerteam1@gmail.com

            (This will be part of Donut Diaries - and will require the man to be older, but he comes out using a cell phone like he was a teenager.)

OMG!  Who does she think she is?  I mean, she is trying to make me look bad in front of my friends, and that's not right, right?

You know who I'm talking about, the new girl.  She's the one who just started coming around up here, and she is very hot......she's younger, must be only 75....and does she have money!  Oooheeee!

And the best part - no children!  She was married once, husband died, and now she has all his money....I asked her out to the local Denny's - they have a discount for AARP members, and she said 'yes'!  And we had the most fantastic time!  She likes the $4.00 special, so we got off for less than ten dollars, including tip!  And she drove!

            (He looks sadder)

But now she won't answer my texts, and I think there might be another guy, and he's from France, and I can't compete with that accent!  Do you think....I know this is a hard question to ask someone, and it's been awhile since you were going out, because I mean you've been married for like, forever, right?  I mean, 45 years is forever, don't you think?   

           (Jerks head around) 

What was that noise?  Is that her car?  She drives that fancy Lexus.......that car makes me smile to think about it.......What was I saying?

         (He takes out something from his pocket)

Whaddaya think?

          (Listens)


Okay, I knew you would have some good advice......I'll ask Wild Wanda.....no I don't call her that to her face!.....but she kisses everyone, and she must know about this stuff.....(Secretively)  .....I got it at the drugstore....

     (Listens)

Of course I'll be careful, there's a lot of diseases going around!     Yeah.....it's a big step ........

       (He starts to walk off)

I haven't done anything like this in years........(Smiling)......I want to let her kiss me on the lips.....

        (He turns back)

So.do you know if this stuff tastes good?

         (He puts some on his lips and kisses his arm as he walks off.)

Mmmmmm.....what a beauty!

         (Not the end by any means!  Just the end of the scene)

 

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

 May 26, 2014 Day #103 by Janet S. Tiger  Memorial Day Monologue Mania
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
--------------------------------------------------------------------

                                 Memorial Day Memories
                                          (for the Senior Channel)
                                                by Janet S. Tiger  
                                     (c) May 22, 2014     all rights reserved
                                              tigerteam1@gmail.com

                             (An older man comes onstage.  He is in uniform and marches proudly, albeit slowly, turns sharply and salutes the audience.)

The Senior Channel has allowed me to come and address you on this Memorial Day.  This is a first for the Senior Channel, as I am the first dead person who will be speaking to you.  From what I have seen on this channel, probably not the last, either!  You see, I died last week.  Today, Memorial Day, they are burying me in the local Army cemetery.....through the magic of television and these newfangled recording devices,  I have something different to say than you will probably not hear at all the parades and picnics and celebrations.

You see, I am not going to talk about all of us dead ones, although I will confess, we do appreciate hearing about ourselves.  No,  today I am here to honor those who did not die, but did give - and continue to give their lives.

When I entered the service, the man in charge of training us - Sgt. Edgar Kaminski was his name - he told us something I have never forgotten - every one in a uniform gives their life.

It was more than a little frightening to  hear that, but then he explained.

Some of us would give the rest of our lives - by being killed in battle or from the result of wounds incurred thereof.  But the rest of us - we would be giving our most precious gift, that of our time, our lives, one year, two, twenty, sixty-five - because by serving, we were giving our days, weeks, months........years .......to preserve the freedom that others had also worked to save.

If we lived through what we were about to go through, and many of  my friends did not, we were being honored on Memorial Day just as surely as all the others who did not live to see these parades and celebrations.

So, if you see a soldier in uniform today - or any day, for that matter - please tell them you appreciate their gift of their life - so that you can live your life in freedom.

They will appreciate - on that, you have my word.

                  (He salutes.  Turns to go, looks back)

At ease.....commence to hot dogs!

                   (He exits.  A big thank you to all those who have given -and continue to give - their most precious gift, their lives, so that we can have a great Memorial Day in freedom!)

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

           Note to actors-

On June 6th, there will be a meeting at Scripteasers, the longest running new-play reading group in the country (maybe the world!) of selected monologues from this first 100plus.  For more info Scripteasers.org, and to read one of these monologues that night, please contact – tigerteam1@gmail.com

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
--------------------------------------------------------------------
  May 25, 2014 Day #102 by Janet S. Tiger  Night Stallion Monologue Mania

 

                                              Night Stallion
                                                by Janet S. Tiger   
                                     c) May 25, 2014     all rights reserved
                                              tigerteam1@gmail.com

(A mother comes out onstage – we know she is a mother because she has her ‘mother is concerned’ look on – and sits in a chair.)

(Soothing)  There, there, my dear boy, you’ll be fine…..no need to cry – everything is all right.  What seems to be the problem that required all this yelling and crying at three in the morning?

(Listens)

I see…..another nightmare….

(Listens)

Hmm……and the monster was how big?

(She looks up)

That must have been right through the roof!  But see, no holes, no monster…..

(Listens, sighs)

Well, I can stay for a minute, to make sure the monster does not have a return ticket, but maybe it’s time I shared something with you…(secretive)…you are not the only one who has been visited by monsters……not the only one with …..nightmares…..
(Listens)

That’s right, me.  You know I was the youngest, too, just like you.  Only I have six brothers and sisters, and they would torment me……and even worse!  When my parents were out,…..they let me watch scary movies!

And I would wake up screaming in the middle of the night, just like you do!  My mother was not very sympathetic- you know how grandma can be! - she would tell me not to be a silly goose, and go back to sleep.  That was not very much help when there was an army of horrible demons right under my bed!

Now you never knew your grandpa because he died before you were born, but my father was a bit more sympathetic.  Unfortunately, he was usually away on business, so it fell to my mother, who would only comfort me once, and then leave me to whimper with the lights on – not very helpful at all!

One night my father and mother had gone out to a restaurant because he had just come back from a business trip, and my siblings – you know how Uncle Jeremiah can be!- teased me until I watched first Frankenstein and then Bride of Frankenstein!  I could barely close my eyes, but somehow, I did, and all the characters from the movie came to visit my dreams!

  (She illustrates how she hid under the covers)

But hiding did nothing, they knew I was there!  I screamed and my mother came in to find out what the problem was…..and I told her and she said, (mother’s voice) ‘Don’t be a silly goose, there’s no such thing as monsters! Go back to sleep!’

And I tried, but somehow, Frank and his bride were there!  I screamed again, and this time my father came in…..and he gave me a present I am going to pass on to you.

First, he listened, and then he told me that when I had a nightmare, what I really needed to fight back was a…Night Stallion.

What?  I asked him?  

(As father) ‘It’s simple,’ he told me, ‘a mare is a female horse, good for some races, and gentle rides, but you need a stallion to fight back!’

That sounds a little….silly, I told him.

‘No sillier than monsters – you see, your brain has created the monsters, they can also create the protector.  Here’s what you do……close your eyes.  Imagine the monsters.’

But I’m afraid they’ll come get me!  

‘You’ll have to trust me’

(She scrunches up her eyes)

…..and so I closed my eyes.  There they were, big as life!  And they were out to get me!

‘Now,’ my father said, ‘you can see the night stallion, he’s right there, in front of you….quick….what does he look like?’

I don’t see anything!

‘Of course you do – you created the monsters, now create the stallion….what color is he?

He can be any color you want….’

Purple!  I want a purple stallion!

‘Can you see him?’

But somehow purple did not seem to be a very good color – so I saw a black stallion, just like in the movies, and it had on purple colors, just like the horses at the racetrack…..

‘It’s a big horse, right?’

And it was!  Bigger than any other horse I’d ever seen!  

‘And look closely….it’s rearing up to protect you from the monsters……it’s hooves are so sharp, they will stop anything out to get you!’

It was amazing, there in my mind was a horse to defend me, my own personal Night Stallion!

He rose up on his hind legs and the light shown off his sharpened hooves and the monsters fled!  I was safe!  It worked every time…..and it will work for you, too.

Can you see your stallion?  

(Nods)

Good!  He will take care of anything that bothers you…..it’s working already, I can see your eyes are half-closed, and you don’t have to worry at all anymore.  Because….

(She leans over, pats a head)

… ….when you get older, and there are real-life monsters that bother you……bullies, teachers, bosses, family, friends…..a problem that seems so big that it is larger than the house……you can close your eyes and find that stallion again…. you can find the sharpened words you need to defend yourself, or the sharp actions to prevent someone from harming your family……because….. the stallion is in you……use him well, my son, he is a great defender…….sleep tight……

(She tucks in the child, then stands to exit, stops and looks up)

And thanks again, Dad, for my night stallion.

(She exits.)

If you follow the directions….(The end).......of nightmares

 ---------------------------------------------------------
 Note for San Diego based actors-         On June 6th, there will be a meeting at Scripteasers, the longest running new-play reading group in the country (maybe the world!) of selected monologues from this first 100+. To see blurbs on all the monologues, http://www.monologuestore.com/monologue-mania-blurbs.html  For more info Scripteasers.org, and to read one of these monologues that night, please contact – tigerteam1@gmail.com

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

--------------------------------------------------------------------
  May 24, 2014 Day #101 by Janet S. Tiger  Out of the (Stuffed) Closet Monologue Mania

                                    Out of the (Stuffed) Closet
                                    (for the Senior Channel)
                                               by Janet S. Tiger  
                                     c) May 24, 2014     all rights reserved
                                              tigerteam1@gmail.com

              (A woman storms onto the stage, she is motivated, and it shows)

(Very loud)  Hello to everyone in Senior Channel land!  I am so happy to be here today for my big announcement!

Is everyone ready?

              (She waves her hands at the crowd, getting them to respond.)

I am here to come out of the closet……as a hoarder.   

            (Points at someone in the audience)

That’s HOARDER, you idiot!  Get your mind out of the gutter!

I am a closet stuffer……and everywhere else, too, and, contrary to popular belief, I do not want to stop!  I am not ashamed or embarrassed or upset!  I love to hoard!  If I was rich, you would call me a …COLLECTOR…if I was a former President, you would call it a MUSEUM!  But since I am merely one of the unsung middle-class, I am looked down upon, laughed at….ridiculed.  It is even acceptable to bully me!  So here’s what I have to say to all of you…….(let’s out a mouth sound known as the raspberry)

There – I do not want to be helped or organized!  Do you hear me?  No 12 step program, no Hoarders Anonymous!  I want to be recognized for what I am – the fuel that keeps our economy going strong!

You heard me!  I buy stuff, but I also get lots of stuff for free!  And I buy things at garage sales, and get things when neighbors are moving…..and when I keep it, I enable many people to surviv!  How?  Because when I can’t find something, I buy more of it!  The grocer is happy, the clothes stores are ecstatic, and I….I like keeping things!

So what are you going to do to me?  Put me in jail?  I pay taxes – on everything!  Everything I buy, save, own and store – and now that my husband insisted I clear out the house, I support a local storage center!  I only have two units now, but that could change with the next big round of sales at the thrift shop – so don’t you dare judge me!  Your job probably depends on folks just like me, so quitcher bitchin and let me keep my stuff.  It’s my stuff, and since it’s still kind of a free country, I have the right to have as much as I want!

            (Takes a deep breath.)

And there’s one thing I will never give up – those baby clothes!  I wrapped em nice and one day, when my kids have kids, those clothes will go to those babies.  Because…..there was one thing I couldn’t hang onto – the first baby.   I mean, he was doing fine, but then two weeks before he was due, at the doctor’s appointment, no heartbeat.

            (Thinks back, almost seeing the items

We had a crib and all the clothes......

            (She reaches out to touch the items)

..............and when I touch those things, even for a minute when I'm putting something else into the closet....it brings back the memories...(in awe) ....it's like my own personal time machine!  Yes, we had the crib, and the clothing......but no baby to bring home.  You never forget some days.

            (She stands straighter)


So if I want to hold onto all that stuff, that’s my choice, not yours.  I may have had no choice with the baby, but I choose to hold on……to what I can hold onto……. And now I have a song, it’s even been on the radio…..I call it....The Theme of the Hoarder!

            (She holds her arms out wide, now sings, very offkey)

I……Hold……On….!

            (She puts her arms around herself, singing, and dances offstage.  The end.)
 ------------------------------------------------------
   Note for San Diego based actors-         On June 6th, there will be a meeting at Scripteasers, the longest running new-play reading group in the country (maybe the world!) of selected monologues from this first 100+. To see blurbs on all the monologues, http://www.monologuestore.com/monologue-mania-blurbs.html  For more info Scripteasers.org, and to read one of these monologues that night, please contact – tigerteam1@gmail.com

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 -------------------------------------------------------------------- 
 May 23, 2014 Day #100 by Janet S. Tiger  Mixed Emotions Monologue Mania

                                      Mixed Emotions                                                  by Janet S. Tiger                                           (c) May 22, 2014     all rights reserved                                                                   tigerteam1@gmail.com

            (A bartender comes out onstage – towel over shoulder, glasses in hand, maybe a mug under an arm.  A table will be helpful, but not essential if the actor can juggle the glasses.)

Welcome to our new exciting bar and grill….Mixed Emotions.  What’ll you be having tonight?

            (Listens)

Of course you’re not sure!  That’s why you’re here…..you have mixed emotions!  Your crummy, no good-cheating boyfriend left you for your ex-best friend?  They’ve been carrying on for the last two years and you just didn’t want to see it, so you are in tears it’s over .......and ecstatic to be rid of them both -   your mixed emotions must be.... happy and sad!

We’ve got just the drink for you!  Sad and happy.....makes....Sappy! 

            (Mixes a drink and hands it over.)

Try this…..there, isn’t that better?
We serve everyone here – because Mixed Emotions knows what you are going through!  Lost your job, kids driving you nuts?  No train wreck comes alone, they all have baggage……..ex-husbands and ex-wives, ex-lovers, ex-friends….a little extra booze always helps!  And if food is your escape preference, we've got that, too, including desserts that will make you weep with happiness!

           (Listens, nods)

Me?  I’ve been through it all – crazy parents, annoying teachers, unfair bosses, break-ups, make-ups, children who never seem to grow up!  Ups and downs - and right now, I have to move.  It’s hard, because I’ve lived in the same neighborhood for fifteen years, I know everyone, and I hate change!  But they’re tearing down our building, so I have no choice really……I have to go.
And I hate packing – but the other side of it is getting rid of a lot of old junk.  And getting a brand new place, and meeting new people.  And the next apartment has a pool, so that’s good, but I have less room, so that’s irritating….mixed emotions.

            (Suddenly takes a drink from one of the glasses)

And, I suppose, the fact that, because of all this confusion with the construction ……..
            (Takes another drink)

I mean, he was an old dog…no new tricks.  I got him from the pound the first week I moved in…..I needed a companion after a tough breakup, so I had…. Corky…He was easy to name because his head was a funny mix, so it looked like a cork from a bottle, perfect for someone in my line of work……… Fifteen years.  He was a great dog, never complained….always happy, fun to take walks with, play in the park, always listened……

            (Big gulp now)

.....and well, he got out one day when I was loading stuff into my truck….and..... he was…hit by a car…..maybe if he’d been younger….but he wasn’t, so.....

                        (Polishes off the drink, head tipped back)

(Much sadder) ......I had to put him down…..

            (Uses the bar towel to wipe eyes)

(Sighs)  And I don’t suppose there’s any mixed any mixed emotion to that, is there?  What’s mixed about grief?

            (Thinks for a minute, smiles)

Although, the vet was really cute……so, maybe there’s a bit of wonder mixed in there…..like who knows where this will go?  I mean, I have to get a new dog……and that means lots of trips to the vet, right?

Mixed emotions……you come in with ‘em, you leave…..with them.  Unlike spouses, and bosses and children and parents and pets, you just can’t escape what you feel….even if you try with these….

            (Lifts a glass)

So, there’s always room for you at the bar, here at Mixed Emotions………..where you come in feelin’ crappy, and you go home feelin’ happy!

            (Turns to the next patron)

Well, hello there!  Welcome to Mixed Emotions…..what’ll you have tonight?

            (Takes the glasses, towel and heads to the other end of the bar.  We hear greeting of a new patron as the lights dim to blackout. )

            -------------------------------------------------------
The end – of the first 100 monologues!  Only 265 to go – and on June 6th, there will be a meeting at Scripteasers, the longest running new-play reading group in the country (maybe the world!) of selected monologues from this first 100.  For more info Scripteasers.org, and to read one of these monologues that night, please contact – tigerteam1@gmail.com


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 --------------------------------------------------------------------  
May 22, 2014 Day #99 by Janet S. Tiger  Promises Kept Monologue Mania
                                         Promises Kept     ©                                                           (from a one-act of the same name)                                                 by Janet S. Tiger                                               (c) May 22, 2014     all rights reserved                                                               tigerteam1@gmail.com

            (A middle-aged man enters, holding a suitcase close to his chest.  He is slightly bent      over, and is dressed in a suit indicating the 1930s.  He is agitated, but trying to control           this.  He speaks with a slight European accent.)

Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.  I am only in New York City for a few days, but this suitcase is very important.

You see, it is part of a legacy, and I know the world is about to be engulfed in flames soon – I left the fire before it consumed me, you see – but these papers should never be destroyed.

            (Listens, thinks, answers slowly at first)

People ask strange things of others, especially when they feel death is near.  Tell me, does the knowledge of imminent demise endow the person dying with the right to ask others for things that are wrong?  Either legally….or, in this case, artistically?
(Getting animated) But what if he had asked me to kill someone?  Should I have done that?  Just because he was dying, unable to think clearly anymore…..not that he thought clearly when he was not sick, but you know what I mean!   
    
                (Opens the suitcase, shows some of the papers.)

Yes, that is correct.  The papers were part of the estate of my friend.  And yes, he asked me to destroy them.  (Gets very upset)  But I cannot destroy art!  It is a sin!  And even though he asked me to do this, even though it was a deathbed request, he also knew I would not do it, as I told him so…..he could have changed me for another executor, but he did not, so I feel, in my heart, he did not want these to be burned.  

And that is why I am here today.  To have you promise that these will be published properly, for I know your reputation, and I  believe you.

            (Listens)

Of course I trust you!  As I trust myself!

            (Listens)

Oh, but I did keep my promise to Franz!  He asked me to promise to burn his papers – but I never promised to burn his papers –I promised to do the right thing.
And so I ask you to do the same.  I thank you, and I must go, as there is much to do before I leave your city.  Here…..

            (Leaves the briefcase, turns to go, looks back, smiles)

In case you have some strange need to keep a promise I never made…don’t worry,.I made copies…             

     (He exits, end of scene.  This one-act is based on Max Brod, who saved the writing of Franz Kafka from burning after Kafka's death)
Janet S. Tiger    858-274-9678
www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8