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 #88  by Janet S. Tiger the Unknown Mother (c) 2014  



                                      The Unknown Mother
                                       or The Richest Woman in the World
                                              (for The Senior Channel)
                                                  by Janet S. Tiger
                                             © 2014 all rights reserved
                                                [email protected]

            (A woman comes out onstage.  She is wearing a mask and gloves, so it is hard to tell how old she is.  She also carries a bullhorn)

Hello out there - I’m here to celebrate Mother’s Day – the Senior Channel way!

            (She indicates her hat, gloves, mask)

 I am purposely disguising myself for one purpose – I am the unknown mother.

I am here for all mothers, of all time, starting with Eve and all the way through the most recent mother – the one giving birth right now, on Mother’s Day.

I am here to tell you all what you need to hear from your mother – and I may be her, so you don’t know for sure.

Unless of course you recognize a slightly nutty mother, but I have news for you all – all mothers are crazy.  We are crazy about you.  No matter what we say in moments of anger or pain, we love you beyond reason, and we want you to know you make us all very happy.  Maybe not every minute of every day……well, maybe, in a funny way you do.

I always wanted to be a mother – and being a mom to you guys is the things I am most proud of – no matter how much I have accomplished- or how little – you are the best things of me.

And on Mother’s Day, I thank you.  Because I love knowing you – all of you.  I remember the days you were born, how I felt.  How, even in moments of exhaustion, of sleep deprivation that even solders in battle don’t understand – even when a part of me questioned reality, I never questioned having you.

And through those grand years of growing up – the school, the play, the triumphs, the pain – I loved it all.  Because trouble makes the happy stronger.  Because even though I am not the richest person – and maybe I am – money and things of this earth do not determine the real wealth.  And I have real wealth.

Because I am rich with you.  I have everything I ever wanted.  I am a happy woman.  And you better remember that, because you ain’t gonna hear that every day!

So bring on the flowers and candy, and the dinners at restaurants and the home-made cards – I love ‘em all!  And I love you all – more than you will ever know, until you have your own children, which will be soon, I hope, as I’m not getting any younger, you know!

            (She takes a deep breath)

And please, never forget…..I love you, all of you, wherever you are, and whatever you do.

            (She takes out a handkerchief and blows her nose.  She turns to go,
             looks back)

And don’t forget to eat those vegetables!

            (She walks off, still blowing her nose.  The end of the monologue.)

  Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!  And to my kids, thank you for giving me the best job in the whole world!


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 #87  by Janet S. Tiger  (c) 2014  
May 10, 2014

                                                      Fortissimo
                                                    by Janet S. Tiger
                                             © 2014 all rights reserved
                                                [email protected]

Note – This is the opening scene. The setting of this play is in a basement that has large pillars throughout the room. At curtain rise it is dark, but we can see there are tables and chairs, like in a restaurant or bar, and they are in a style from the 1920s.  Although dark, there are cobwebs, and we can feel that everything is also very, very dusty- nothing has been touched here in a very long time. 

          (An older man comes onstage.  He is dressed impeccably, perfectly tailored, with a white            handkerchief in his lapel.  He has an expensive cane, which he leans on heavily at times.      He is very affected by where he is and what he is about to do.  He goes to a chair, and     starts to sit, then changes his mind, stands holding it instead.  He has a slight Italian             accent.  This is Paul Fortis – originally Paolo Fortissimo, he squares his shoulders and he            is ready.)

This is ……a good place to start.  This is where I started.  Where it all started.  Are you filming yet?  (listens)  Get it right the first time, I am never doing this again.

            (He takes a deep breath and looks around.)

When I say I started here, I mean I was born here, in this very basement.  (Laughs)  Not on a table or behind the bar, but in one of the notorious back rooms, rooms used to make babies, not usually have them.

But my mother, she was wild, and she….(hard words to say)….she got…in the family way with a soldier, and before my family could force them to marry, he shipped out, to be a casualty of World War I- not of a bullet, which would have been an honorable death, but of a tiny enemy, the influenza virus, which wiped out half his platoon that year, the year I was born.

It was a good thing he died of the flu, because had my family found, he would have died in a much less pleasant way.  But as the saying goes, ‘dead is dead.’

So I never knew my real father, and my mother, the only daughter of Alphonso Fortissimo, gave birth in his saloon, which was called, originally enough….Fortissimo’s.

And I was loud, even then.  They said I was a true son of Alphonso, which is how I was raised.  I never knew my mother was not my sister, until her deathbed.

The secrets in this family are deep.  Which is why I have kept this place locked up since 1946.  Everyone wants to know why, I don’t have to tell them.  I don’t have to sell the place.  I pay taxes, I keep the property clean – outside at least, where everyone sees it.

No one needed to know our…..what they used to call ‘dirty laundry.’

And me, why am I telling this now?  Why open this place to you, to finally tell this story?  Because you have signed a paper that you will not release these tapes until I am dead five years, and the property has been sold.  And if you break these rules, then my family will find you and make your life – what will be left of it – very unpleasant.  And by the way, that is not a threat, that is a promise.

I am telling because I am an old man, today is my birthday.  I am 95 years old today.  And I am sick of the secrets – and they have made me sick.  I have the cancer, all throughout my stomach.  And I am ready to die.  I tried to write all this, but my hands have arthritis, and it hurts, and it is better someone else knows.  It is time someone else knows……

So let me begin somewhere near the beginning….with the earth…..

            (He takes a small box from his pocket- opens it shows it to the camera.)

This is …(says it with love)….terra buena….’good earth’ from the Fortissimo property in Italia….a small vineyard in Umbria….brought over by my grandfather in his pocket when he came to this country.  To bring him luck and good fortune.  It must have been cursed, because it brought neither.  This dirt brought pain and sadness wherever it went….perhaps because it had so much blood in it…..

To understand what I will tell you now, you must see this place as it was…….

            (He opens the box and sprinkles a little of the dust.  As he does this……the room begins           to have a rebirth – the lights come on in a blast and now instead of dust,  we see     everything is covered in sparkles.  Loud music is heard as people dance into the room –    along with a bartender, some patrons at tables, drinking wildly.)

You see, I was born at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month – November 11, 1918 – the end of World War I – the beginning of me…….

            (He throws away the cane and puts on a hat from the times –he is now his own grandfather, Alfonso Fortissimo)

(End of monologue)


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









           


 


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 9, 2014 Day #86 Monologue Mania by Janet S. Tiger  (c) 2014  

                                                      The Worry Wart
                                                       (for The Senior Channel)
                                                    by Janet S. Tiger
                                             © 2014 all rights reserved
                                                 [email protected]


            (A person comes onstage – can be older man or woman – and they  are dressed in black with black gloves and a black cap over their hair.)

Hello, and thank you for tuning in to the Senior Channel new ideas show. 

            (Takes a deep breath)

I am …….a wart.
And we are…..the……

            (The person turns around in a circle, to show a sign printed on the back of the shirt that says  'Worry Warts').

Worry Warts!

We are a professional company that takes the worry out of…..worry!

I am the owner and first wart.

Are you worried about something?  Anything?

Tired of wasting time worrying?  Tired of having people tell you to stop worrying – and you can’t?

We are a new company that is designed to help you!

We will do the worrying…for you!

‘ How?’ you worry……

It’s easy.  I spent my life as a worry wart, always ruminating about all the possibilities of how things could go wrong.

Did they?    You bet they did!  I have lived through illness, war, death of loved ones, almost death of myself, sickness of children, problems with bosses, loud and annoying neighbors…even windchimes!

Now my family always reminds me that 99% of what I worry about NEVER HAPPENS.  This is supposed to be reassuring, but it is not, it is optimist condescention!  And so, I decided to worry more….find new ways to worry.   Like a runner training for a marathon, I studied trouble.  All the myriad of things that can go wrong.  This is not difficult to do – I just read the newspaper!   Then, I discovered the computer, and now I surf the net for new improved ways to worry.

And I realized one day….worry is like a gift - it fills me with a delicious sensation- like being filled with gobs of gooey chocolate! I knew that I love to worry!  And I do it very well! 

If you give me a beautiful day, I can think about how they have taught us the sun will explode in 10 billion years, but what if they are wrong?  By 10 billion years?  What if the sun is about to explode right now?  There’s something to worry about! 

So I came out of the closet as a professional worrier.  I worry – and I love it!

You give me your worries, and I will find new ways to worry about them!

Have something growing on your skin and you’re afraid to see a doctor?  Worried it could be MELANOMA?  I can worry about 200 more diseases you could have!  Why stop with illness – I can worry about your crazy daughter-in-law, and how she’s ruining your grandchildren, or about your boss and whether or not you will be fired or lose your job in 96 embarrassing ways!

We can worry about anything and everything!  War, famine, pestilence, and, a big one for a lot of people, the stock market!   

But wait, there's more!  We have experts who specialize in worrying about every area – your dog and how long it will live, your children, and how they never call, your parents, and how they never call, the neighbors with the funny smells coming from the garage….you name it, we can worry about it!  We take the worry out of worrying!

Just call the number on screen –

            (He points to an area above his head, listens, then points to the other side)

…1-800-No-Worry!  We are Worry Warts!  We are the pros in worrying…..so you don’t have to!  Unless you want to, of course, in that case, please call this number….
            (He points with both hands now)

As we are constantly looking for new worriers!

            (He turns to go, looks back)

And please, leave the worrying to us!

            (He exits.  Don’t worry, 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 #85 by Janet S. Tiger May 8, 2014  Sunday Prayers (c) 2014








                                                    by Janet S. Tiger
                                             © 2014 all rights reserved
                                                 [email protected]



May 8, 2014 Day #85 Monologue Mania by Janet S. Tiger  Sweet Tea (c) 2014  

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 8, 2014 Day #85 Monologue Mania by Janet S. Tiger (c) 2014  

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 8, 2014 Day #85 Monologue Mania by Janet S. Tiger Sunday Prayers (c) 2014  
                                                

                                               Sunday Prayers
                                                    by Janet S. Tiger
                                             © 2014 all rights reserved
                                                 [email protected]

               (A pastor comes out onstage.  He has the turned around collar, but other than that, he is dressed casually, maybe even a Hawaiian shirt and slightly longer hair.  He has a small prayer book in one hand, which he holds up.)

Time to put this away for a moment….

            (He puts the prayer book into a pocket.)

……and answer a prayer some of you might have every Sunday.  This is going to be a very short sermon!    Wait, that’s not true…..there will be NO sermon today!


How’s that for God answering requests immediately?

And I am leaving the other announcements to our very capable President, Mr. Finchley.

I am happy to also report this will be my last Sunday as the pastor of this lovely church. 

            (Stops for the expression of surprise he expected)

I will be here this week, to introduce the new pastor to everyone, but I purposely did not give any notice, as I did not want any prolonged crying…….or ceremonies for that matter!

My joy in being here is matched by my new assignment, which I have worked for – as you all know- for many years.

There, in a distant land, I will be able to bring my hands to help those who have never had the pleasure of my sermons……

Not that my sermons aren’t always scintillating, but I wanted to do something different today, I wanted to go directly to our congregational prayers for family, friends and the world.

            (He takes a deep breath, he is very happy)

I’m doing this because I am so very pleased to report that I will end my days here on a beautiful note – I just received some very good news – a family we have been praying for, a family with a child who was hit by a car and seriously injured, has had some of their prayers answered.  The little girl, Suzanne, is out of danger.  She will be in the hospital for a few more weeks to recuperate, but because of her age, they expect a complete recovery!  And we all say AMEN!

The family wants to thank you all for your prayers and help during this time.

And I want to thank you all for being such good…pray-ers.

That’s what today is about – we are going to pray for ourselves – for the strength to make our lives into prayers…into blessings….– in other words, we are the pray –er.

We come together each Sunday to pray for others – and we are amazingly successful.  People are healed from illnesses, families find homes when they are in terrible want, children find the strength to fight off crippling addictions, and those who face death are given the help they need to transition.

 We have seen the power of prayer.  And now, as we sit together again, I am asking everyone to bow their heads and say a prayer….for yourselves.  I want you all to know that you deserve these prayers.  We start with ourselves, and then it spreads.  Like the sunshine, like light itself. The power of being a ‘pray-er’ – is immense.

It fills our very souls with light.

And before I turn this into a sermon – surprise, you didn’t really think I could stop talking, could you? – I ask you all to join me in a prayer for ourselves, and for all those who need a prayer at this time……..Thank you……all of you pray-ers!......for the prayers…..

            (He bows his head and exits.)



A big thank you for all who pray!

           

             

                 


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







                                                




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




 

Monologue Mania Day #84 by Janet S. Tiger May 7, 2014  Sweet Tea (c) 2014

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 #84 by Janet S. Tiger May 7, 2014  Sweet Tea (c) 2014  







                                   Sweet Tea

                                                    by Janet S. Tiger
                                             © 2014 all rights reserved
                                                 [email protected]



May 7, 2014 Day #84 Monologue Mania by Janet S. Tiger  Sweet Tea (c) 2014  

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 7, 2014 Day #84 Monologue Mania by Janet S. Tiger (c) 2014  
                                                

                                                Sweet Tea (from The Book of Teas)

                                                    by Janet S. Tiger
                                             © 2014 all rights reserved
                                                 [email protected]

            (The same older Southern woman from The Book of Teas – Day # 15, 51, 52, 53, 69)


Why do I keep comin back to sweets?  I guess I think everyone likes the taste of sweet.  We sure love sweet here in the South, don’t we, Ella?  Forget about cotton, sugar is king!  We have sweetbreads, sweet tea…..and once you get old enough to forget everyone’s name, you call people……sweetie…….

Babies love sweet – mother’s milk is sweet.  Life is sweet.

Candy store.  When you are young, the world is like one big candy store.  There are all these sparkly packages, with the lights of the shop making them twinkle just for you.

Which one will you eat first?  Can you eat them all?  Sadly, you find you cannot.

This is not before you get cavities.

But once you try a few of those sweets, you eat the ones you like, like the petit fours.  Maybe you try something new once in a blue moon.  But usually, you stick with the sweet you liked when you were testing them all out.

And then one day, you realize that you have not tried all those delicious confections, and you are a diabetic, and eating them will kill you - or at the very least, make you blind and have your feet fall off.

It is a horrible day when you come to that realization. 

But the memory of the sweets you loved is something that you hold with you until you can no longer remember your own name.  Goodnight…..sweetie…..

            (She lies down on the bed as the lights dim.)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note - As background – below is the section that precedes this monologue – with Ella’s dialogue removed

Petit Fours-

A life without love is like a life without Petit-fours.

My mother taught me this.

I know I am stretching with Pet Tea Fours - but I think it is a big part of life here in the South.

Food.

Almost everything is evaluated by food.

My mother taught me this with the example of the petit-fours.

She was telling me why - unlike all the books I had read- love never could end well.

I was horrified!

She laughed and said the books were designed to ensure that women married and had children - because if people knew the truth about love the race was doomed.

Love had only one end - separation from the one you loved.

That separation could be due to many things - war, famine, pestilence - or  you now hated them and tried to get away from the one you used to love.  But, according to my mother,  you could never get away from love,  love was a form of infinity.  It never ended.  But the person could go away, or marry someone else - or, at the ultimate, die.

Mamma, that makes no sense.  How can love be infinite, but it ends in separation?  Because that is where the endless pain comes from - there is pain in breaking apart - one way or another, it's like a bone breaking, there is no pleasant sensation in a broken love.

But then why love? 

She smiled and explained, using something I was very familiar with - petit-fours from the ice cream shop.  Specifically, the ones made by Monsieur de Tour, who had come to our town after World War 1 to marry a nurse he had met when he was wounded.  He had no skills other than being a soldier - but he was also the son of a baker, and although he had never wanted to follow in his father's powdery footsteps, in the new country, with very little English, he was forced to fall back upon a universally appreciated talent - food preparation.

He could make delicious treats - and the ones that cost the most, and were therefore the most delicious, were the petit-fours.

He would prepare them in the visible kitchen at the candy shop, which also sold ice cream, licorice, all types of assorted magazines, and sweets from all corners of the world.

All my friends would debate for hours which was the most delicious of these sweets.  The gumballs that broke your jaw and lasted for hours  - only one penny for a handful.  Chewy caramels - a bag for a nickel - that stuck to your teeth for weeks, allowing the sugary flavor to provide a diversion in the dullest of classroom discussions.

The hot fudge sundae - gooey, dripping with warmed fudge and covered in nuts. topped with whipped cream for only 25cents.  Or the 10 cent sodas with a scoop of ice cream - bubbles tickling your nose and the delightful sounds of the last sucked up sip where parents tried to control their children from making that sucking noise, but never succeeded.

But for me, there was no contest.  It was the horribly expensive petit fours.  When you could buy pounds of candy for 50cents, just one petit fours was 75 cents each!  The horror!  Yet people lined up for them, and they always sold out whenever M. de Tour made them each Saturday, 24 total, two dozen.  It took him most of the afternoon to make these.  One dozen was set aside for the Balleys - the richest family in town, who ordered a dozen every week for their Sunday after church get together.  If my father and Mr. Balley had not had such squabbles on the City Council (Mr. Balley was the main opposition to daddy for Mayor, but luckily, most people preferred Daddy) we might have been invited for these sumptuous get togethers.  But no, although my Daddy had been a man of few principles before marrying my mother, her influence on him from the very beginning had created a monster of propriety, and Daddy refused to reconcile with the Balleys.  Hence, I got one petit four a week.  Although money was no object for us, my father did not believe in spoiling children as he had not been spoiled and he figured what was good enough for him was good enough for his progeny.

So I suffered with the one petit four for years.  Like a ray of delightful sun on a rainy day, I looked forward to those Petit fours.  And then, one year, I got the brilliant idea to save my birthday and Christmas money - and buy as many petit fours as I could.

I told no one of my plans - usually I spent my gifts immediately on the first toy I liked.  But the year I was 10, I waited, and when I had the massive sum of seven whole dollars and fifty cents, I went to wait in line on Saturday for, believe it or not, ten whole petit fours all for myself.

Half the delight of anything is the anticipation - and that day was no disappointment.  M. de Tour was diligent as he mixed the ingredients-which were mostly sugar, confectioners sugar, glazed sugar and more sugar.

I could go on and on about how he made them, but you can look up the recipe yourself.  The important thing is that, as I waited, the line formed behind me, waiting until everything was baked, fluffed, dried and ready to purchase.  It is a time consuming confection - but worth every second.

When he finally brought them to the counter and took out the traditional one petit four I usually got, I told him, no, please may I have ten - I have the money.  And I showed him my savings.

The people behind me were furious!  They had waited for awhile - some of them as long as an hour, although none as long as I had, so I really didn't care.

He looked at me and said, 'Oh, aire you heving a party?' in his still thick accent.

I nodded, not wanting to lie - as I was planning a party, a party for me.

You might think I lingered over them, appreciated them, ate them slowly, savored them after that long wait.  But that would be someone else's story, not mine.  I sucked them in like a vacuum.  And it was wonderful. 

I still smile when I think of it.

I was not used to eating sweets like that, however, and the results were evident within hours.  As I threw all those beautiful petit fours up, my mother held my hair back and laughed.

So later when she told me love was worth it, I understood immediately when she compared love to the petit fours.

'Do you remember what it felt like to eat them after wanting them for so long?'
'Oh, yes, momma, they were delicious beyond compare!'

‘And yet by the end of the day, you were wretched - and retching, if I recall properly.’

She recalled properly.

But I knew what she meant- love was worth it.  Even if you knew there would be pain, it was still worth it.

Like the petit fours.    Incredibly sweet, but best taken in controlled doses. 

How would I have known that too much would be so...so messy?  Same with love, we know.  We know before we start, but the taste is so good, that we jump right in - and we have no regrets.

When I was feeling less sick, and my mother had washed my face and put me to bed with a cool cloth on my forehead, she smiled and said, 'was it worth it, T?'

And I laughed with her - because, yes, it was.  And it always is.  And people who do not get their 10 petit fours even once in their lifetime, well, they have never really lived.



 -----------------------------

(The Book of Teas is both a one-act and a full-length book - both will be available when I figure out how to use Kindle!)


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




 

May 6, 2014 Day #83 Monologue Mania by Janet S. Tiger (c) 2014  

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
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--------------------------------------
May 6, 2014 Day #83 Monologue Mania by Janet S. Tiger (c) 2014  
                                                

                                              The Juggler
                                          (from a play The Ringmaster)
                                                    by Janet S. Tiger
                                             © 2014 all rights reserved
                                                 [email protected]

             (A woman comes out singing the circus music we all know and love-  da, da, da, da, da, da,da, da da,   da da da DA!  She is juggling, but we see nothing in her hands.)

Ooh, I think I can get another one up there.......

            (She reaches into a pocket and pulls out something, throws it into the other invisible          items circling)

That makes....one, two, three, four!  Four eggs!

Ooh, it's possible!  Four eggs!

First one.......is the oldest, he's nine, and will not do homework first....only play on the computer......

Second egg....the middle child, six,......a girl who loves to talk....and talk.....and talk!

How do I keep these in the air?

Easy! 

Watch! 

           (She watches the 'eggs' as the keep going, even without her hands!)

Talk about miracles!  I can even add a few....

           (She throws a couple more eggs up in the air, starts juggling them all)

The baby is always fun.....six months old, just starting to crawl and get into things!

OOh......

And my husband......there's a good egg......except when he's rotten, of course..... and now I put up a few more.....

           (Throws another egg up)

that's my folks who are getting older by the day.....

           (Another egg goes into the air)

....and how about my siblings.....

           (Launches four more eggs)

......none of whom live near my parents, so it's me taking care of them, except of course when the siblings come to town and ....

          (Another egg)

They stay with me!

Wheee!

             (She throws them all in the air, and puts down her arms, leans her head back and 'swallows' the eggs!)

And that's how it feels!   Eggs -ellent!

All those eggs in the air, they are all mine….and yet, not one of them is mine!

But wait....there's more.........

               (She leans over, and like a magician, takes the 'eggs' out of different body orifices -        ears, nose.....be creative and see how far the audience will let this go - and throws them      all up at the same time)

And now, for something truly special......

               (She holds her hands up, palms open)

Freeze!

               (She looks up - obviously the eggs are no longer moving, but frozen in mid-air.  She        smiles and walks around them.)

And that's how you do it!

I've seen men juggle balls and plates and even chain saws, but none of them can touch this without it all falling to the ground - without broken eggs splattered everywhere!

And then they would complain about how hard it is to juggle all this stuff, and how if you miss a few, and they break, it can make an omelet......but the reality is.....juggling life is the toughest act in the world.......except…..

            (Now she seems less energetic)

When you get tired…..

           (She steps back and her face twinges as things hit the ground)

That’s the neighborhood watch committee – I’m the chairman and there’s a big fight how to handle poor Mr. Rivera’s son who is getting into high school….and into drugs…..

            (Another egg hits the floor)

Oops!  That’s the new boss…..didn’t know she had a crazy aunt locked up and I made some silly joke….

 
            (She cringes as it appears a lot of eggs are falling now)

There’s my poor daughter who can’t understand why I can’t listen to every word! 

(Faster)  And her brother who is almost a teenager now!  And the mailman is new and he misplaced the letter from my old friend who is about to get married – next week! 

            (She is now running around trying to catch the eggs, to no avail)

And just when I started back at the gym, they decide to move five miles away!  Because it’s easier for most of the new members!  And….and…..and,…and…..

            (At each missed egg, she shudders)

And……

            (She throws her hands up – gives up)

Maybe I should’ve married Humpty Dumpty!

            (She now gets on hands and knees and starts re-assembling the eggs)

There, there, you’ll be fine in the morning – a good night’s sleep will make everything seem so much better!

            (She goes to tuck in the eggs, sits up looking at them fondly)

Sleep……now that’s a good idea……

            (She gets up and starts to walk out, we see her starting to juggle slowly)

Now if only I could learn to juggle in my sleep……there’s a plan!

            (We hear the strains of the circus song as she leaves.  Never the end of juggling!)

           

             

                 


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 5, 2014 Day #82 Monologue Mania by Janet S. Tiger (c) 2014  

           (The woman returns.  She is still dressed like a pioneer, but much more       fashionably, one might even be impressed with the fancy shawl.  She is holding a  package wrapped in paper and string)

Remember how I told how we started digging through the mountain with a spoon?

The funny thing about doing something crazy is that sometimes, when you do that, crazy things keep happening.

See this spoon?  Simple, wooden.  There is no mistaking its purpose.

Yet if you were to take it, and really start trying to dig through a mountain, people would laugh.

Like everyone did when I said we could survive traveling to Europe – with no money.

Like taking a spoon and digging through a mountain.

Yet there really was a family that went across the country – and were at a mountain, and the husband and wife started fighting about which way was better.

The wife got so angry, she took the wooden spoon and started digging at the mountain for real.

The husband got furious – he yelled and screamed and the others tried to stop them fighting.  It was not a pleasant moment.

And then, one of the younger travelers- he had been to college, but dropped out to make his fortune in the great west – this young man looked at the spoon.

He took it from the woman and examined it, then he started to laugh.

Everyone thought he was crazier than the married couple.

But he just smiled at them and explained something he had learned in chemistry.

Chemical changes occur for different reasons – and the spoon had turned a turquoise blue for the probable reason that….the mountain was probably made mostly of copper ore…..

They were rich…..all of them!  They had found what we in Nevada call the Copper Spoon Mine…….And now all they had to do was survive.

How true that is of all of us.  We are all rich, we have the chance to touch richness every day if we just pick up that wooden spoon! My children and I may have had no money, but we knew of our bounty, which was why we could go to Europe with no money – and never worry.

We toured 12 countries, ate like kings, had incredible adventures with princes and gypsies - and made friends we still have to this day.

So anytime you have the idea the mountain is too high – or the winter too cold, or the troubles too grand…….

            (She opens the string and package to show the wooden spoon, now in a case like a valuable jewel)

………please take one of these….

            (She starts to walk off, turns back.)

And give yourself a whack on the head until you remember what it’s all about!


            (She smiles and exits.  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!
--------------------------------------
May 4, 2014 Day #81 Monologue Mania by Janet S. Tiger (c) 2014       

Under the Mountain part 1 written Oct. 5, 2009   revised today 

 Part 2 will be tomorrow May 5, 2014
                                                              

                                           Under the Mountain      part 1      
                                                    by Janet S. Tiger
                                             © 2014 all rights reserved
                                                 [email protected]

                 (A woman comes onstage.  She is everywoman, dressed in a way that it is difficult to tell if she is from today's era or the past.)

(Thinking)  Sometimes I feel as if I was part of one of those pioneer families.   The ones who traveled in wagon trains with small children and no food and water and never complained.

The ones who settled the West!   Only my group reminds me of the Donner party.   Well, maybe not that bad......(pauses)...yet.

We have arrived at a large mountain. 

          (She indicates the size with her arms)   

It is big, and on the other side is California.

We have a big decision to make.   Do we go over the mountain?  (She mimes climbing up.)  It would be less mileage covered, but there are some big problems with this.   We have horses, and small children - is there a safe path up - and down the other side?

Another option is to go around it.  

            (She walks around the stage.)  

This would be easier than climbing, but it will be more miles, and winter is coming - will there be enough food?   Enough time to get through the pass before rain or snow hits?   Then there is the third (thinks about this word carefully)  possibility.

We could tunnel through the mountain using dynamite - making a new route for anyone who follows us.  Creating a path for others - and attaching our names to this so that we are immortalized forever. 

            (Throws her arms out wide to show that this is a serious goal.  She slowly brings them down.)

Tunneling has its own series of....problems.   First, we have no reliable geographical information so that we really don't know what will happen when the explosions rip through the layers of stone and rock.   Next issue is that we don't really have a good navigational system to make sure we go straight through the mountain.  And we have small children and horses - will we be able to shore up a tunnel safe enough to go through to the other side?

(Nodding a bit)   Now my husband - this will probably not surprise anyone - he wants to go straight through the mountain.  And, because he wants to, that is what we will be doing.

             (Trying not to be angry - is she laughing a little?)

So, I guess we'll see you on the other side.

             (She goes to walk offstage, then stops.)

There is just one other teeny, tiny, little problem ......... (she almost whispers)  ..we don't have any dynamite.

             (Listens to a voice offstage)

Coming dear.

             (She reaches into her apron pocket, pulls out a wooden spoon, smiles at the audience - and exits.)

End part 1.

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 3, 2014 Day #80 Monologue Mania by Janet S. Tiger (c) 2014        Maybe Day     
                                                             
                                                   Maybe Day                            
                                                    by Janet S. Tiger
                                             © 2014 all rights reserved
                                                 [email protected]

                   (A woman comes onstage wearing a wreath of flowers on her head.  She has a basket of flowers in her hand and throws them into the crowd.)

Mayday!  mayday!  My father used to love to say that while we watched the parades on May 1st.  Because he had a bad leg from when he was hit by a car., my father couldn't walk with his friends, but he could wave and shout....  (Like a father, loud) 'Mayday!  Mayday!' and then he would explain....(father's voice) 'Mayday means - 'help' .... 'trouble' - and those people need help and make trouble!'

I didn't understand when I was little - I would ask him - if they make trouble, why do we go watch their parades every year?

And he would just smile and say -  'May  is just another way of saying 'Maybe'  - and maybe is a magic word!  It may happen means maybe it will happen, maybe life will get more fair for the workers, for the poor......maybe not right away, but maybe some day.

Maybe is such a powerful word, he would tell me.

Maybe is the leap from 'no' and 'never' and 'can't' and 'won't'  Before you have a yes, you have a maybe.  And that's why maybe is...a magic word!

So that's when I said, 'Can we have a dog?' 

He just laughed and explained that we lived in an apartment, and dogs were not allowed.

I remember thinking for a moment.

               (She stands, like a child, finger in mouth)

(Young)  So, if we moved to a different place, Daddy, MAYBE we could have a dog?

                 (She throws back her head and guffaws)

And he laughed and laughed.

So I said......(as a child)  Maybe?

                 (She is quieter)

He stopped laughing, looked at me very quietly....and said.....the magic words....maybe.

And I held onto that 'maybe' for years - through the horrid place with the neighbors that argued till three in the morning, to the tiny cramped apartment on an alley where the garbage trucks would wake us up every day.  That maybe helped keep me going, until one day, after my father's father passed away, and there was a small inheritance that came to us, and we moved to a neighborhood with lawns, and grass, and...dogs.  The day we moved in, with all the boxes still unpacked on the floor, I asked my father.....(older child)  Dad, how about that dog?

And he looked and said.......May......

I remember how my heart fell, because may always meant 'may..be'

But this time, he said......'You may'......and he smiled.......and the next day, we went to the pound!

You never forget your first love....especially when he wags his tail at you.....

         (She whirls around as if holding a dog in her arms)

And that's the way it is with all of them!  I wrote about my first dog, and won a contest.  That turned me into a writer, and, the books I wrote about dogs allow me to help all the strays I can here on my farm.




Maybe you can help, too...see that big number on the screen. 




                   (She indicates the side of the stage)




The Senior Channel is supporting your local pound so that maybe you can help save an animal today.




                   (She indicates the side of the stage)




Just......maybe......if you can't help today, maybe tomorrow......




Make today a 'maybe' day.......




             (She turns and walks off. Maybe 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!
--------------------------------------
May 1, 2014 Day #78 Monologue Mania by Janet S. Tiger (c) 2014             

                                                              
                                              Yay for New Wrinkles
                                            (for the Senior Channel)                                                   
                                                    by Janet S. Tiger
                                             © 2014 all rights reserved
                                                 [email protected]m


              (The older gentleman from Day 9 and Day 22 returns - with another idea he is very excited about.  He strides onstage purposefully and faces the camera and studio audience.  He is holding a mirror in one hand.)

Ladies and gentlemen - I welcome you to the continuing Senior Channel show which highlights our problems and how to solve them.  Since I have a great deal more time to think about things than when I was younger, I have been pondering a new issue, a new fight for us.

And it's literally staring us right in the face.

               (He holds up the mirror)

I see 'em.....there they are......(booms)  WRINKLES!

And when you say new wrinkles, I think that's one of those phrases like jumbo shrimp.....New Wrinkles!  A wrinkle by its very definition is....old!

But with wrinkles, I am just scratching the sagging skin surface......I want everyone here to think about wrinkles.....and how they have become a symbol of a subtle, but ubiquitous ageist attitude that all seniors face!

Still don't get it?  Everyone here has heard the ads for ANTI- wrinkles, right?  Well, if wrinkles are a sign of deepening wisdom - why the urge to get rid of them?

Why not have a brand new cream - PRO- wrinkle cream! 

It wouldn't have to be a cream, it could just be someone calling you up to remind you how old you are - with a new photo every day!  And then another angle would be to have teams cataloging all the things you can worry about - personal AND global - now that's a way to make those wrinkles hatch like eggs on a KFC farm!

And we could protest all those young, smooth-skinned people in the ads!  We could even kidnap one and take photos to show how old and wrinkled she really is without makeup!

           (Listens)

Sorry, didn't mean to advocate kidnapping....just a joke, there, folks, to illustrate my main point.

Which is - if wisdom is gained through age, and wrinkles are the gift we get, why is the present so ridiculed?  In other times, people revered age - wrinkles indicated you had survived!  Now, the object is to look young forever!  What's next?  Actually living forever? 

           (He takes a deep breath to calm down0

So I am suggesting that we protest where it hurts them the most - we stop buying all the wrinkles creams, and age-defying systems that are just more expensive wrinkle creams, and we launch a march on Washington to protest the treatment of wrinkles!  Better yet, not a march, but a marathon run......(thinks)....ok, maybe a 5K.......

And the name would be........

            (He spreads his arms wide, beaming)

The Wrinkle Run!

             (He turns and starts to jog off, looks back)

You can sign up on my website - Pro-Wrinkle Seniors - Take Back the Skin!  Dot com.

              (He exits. The end of this wrinkle.)
  

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