As usual, I’m out this weekend – though it may be hard to tell.
This is an entry that forward-casted (or written prior to the time in which it popped up).
Right now. I should be preparing for the fourth last weekend in a row.
You know the drill… “this is the latest last weekend… yada, yada, yada… closing out the Sullivan house… blah, blah, blah… maybe the pigs will finally take flight.. yeah, yeah, yeah… though we won’t know for sure until we’re done.”
In the meantime, to continue to provide content over the long weekend (since I don’t seem to post on Monday that often – and it I appear to, it’s because I messed with the dates so that it reads “Monday” even when it was entered Tuesday) I have something… in store.
I hesitate to interject the word “special” prior to the “in store,” because I don’t know how it’s going to fly. This is new for me and I’m not sure how it’s going to go/be received/etc…
Okay. Here’s the deal:
My sister has been asking me for several years to write a one-act or monologue for her while she’s trying to earn her Theatre degree from Truman up in Kirksville. The requests have often stroked my ego, though I rarely did wrote anything in response.
I have dabbled with the idea, however. “Playwright” is a cool title one to add to any job listing. See how it livens up the following vocations:
Actor/Playwright/Producer
Poet/Playwright/Pulitzer Winner
Short Story Writer/Playwright/Nobel Prize Winner
It even works for those who labor beyond the artistic fields
Fisherman/Playwright/Boat Owner
Playwright/Coal Miner/Canary Specialist
Postal-Worker/Sharpshooter/Playwright
It adds a touch of class to anyone’s skill set.
I’ve written a lot of skits or what passes for plays in public school or junior competitions. Some of them I’m still proud of; others have been forgotten and won’t be brought up again by me.
Note: I’m sure there are some of you out there who are eager to quote from past performances (especially in cases where the best lines were never officially in the script). Please, save those for another day. The horse has been flogged enough. He’s dead. Get over it.
Further note: By requesting that no comments be made on this subject, I realize this will cement certain character’s resolve to engage and said previously mentioned behavior. I’ll throw in one “Where are me buccaneers?” but that’s all you’ll get me. Okay. Maybe “Inadvertently nukes Canada), but that’s it.
In addition to the class assignments, I’ve started about a half dozen plays on my own time. I never finished one before, as is the case with most of the stories I start. Without consulting the physical archives (in packing up the Sullivan house, I filled a Tupperware container or two with notebooks alone), I believe they’ve all been would-be comedies.
I say "would-be," simply because I'm not sure.
When one is writing in a vacuum, without an audience, you question whether something is serious funny. I remember a video project I worked on in high school that suffered from the lack of outside feedback. Working with a partner, we spent many hours cooped up at the local cable access center putting together a mini-epic on the unexpected snow we’d had and how it might impact the length of the school year. I won’t go into detail about how bad it was, but I will admit the low point was when we inserted mocking subtitles into a lengthy interview with the school superintendent. They were distracting, barely related to topic, and extremely insulting to the man who was talking about adding to the school calendar. I suggested the line about the superintendent consulting his “lucky decoder mood watch” to decide whether or not to cancel school. It was my partner, though, who inserted a demonic cackling voice when the man said we might have two extra weeks of school.
It was idiotic, anything-but clever, and painful to watch. It is also what happens when you forget to take a breath of air and make contact with the outside world.
And I guess that is the final warning before this post wraps up and you can move on to the play below.
This play has only been screened by one other person. While many of the jokes are based on the pep band who traveled to Tempe, Arizona – many taken verbatim – most haven’t been seen in this form. The plot that I threaded through them is untested. The ending was the last thing I wrote because it took me so long to come up with any ending that didn’t involve bloodshed (and I’m only half being dramatic there).
I make no claims that the following play is good. It is only barely plucked from the rocks and I’m not even sure if it’s worth polishing much more. I wrote it initially for my sister to consider for her senior one-act, since she had so much trouble finding anything worth directing, and it took on a mini life of its own. The fact that it's still going is far more than what I expected when I tried to come up with airplane jokes that hadn't been made before (I only used one outside source to write the jokes (or two if you count the one from the Garfield Hawaiian special. See if you can find the single Carlin, homage).
I like what I came up with. I find the trio to be interesting, entertaining people.
I would like to be quick to point out the best lines are not my own, but were composed on the fly, so to speak. I sat behind these people, and some of their jokes were too incredible to be included in the play. My favorite is as follows:
Matt: Hey Kyle! Do you have a wing on your side of the plane, because I don't.
Rachel: (Frantically looks out of the window, before slugging Matt)
This whole play is something in my blogging. We’ve had short stories, we’ve even had haiku days, but this looks to be the biggest leap yet.
If you finish the whole flight, tell me if I cleared the gap.
- Caleb Michael Smith, blogger/playwright/kazoo player
