Friday, November 17, 2006
Celia's vice-ridden Uncle
The trouble with most advice you get about drinking and smoking is that most people don't enjoy these things the way you do.
And it's true, probably, that if you enjoy those things too much, you might end up as a nervous wreck throwing
turds at your keeper.
Goergeous woman in the rehab ward, Mariah Carey lookalike, sitting on her own pile of dung brought out by the heavy Lergactyl tranquillizer, loosens your bowels, and calling the psychiatrist a "stupid f*cking dildo!"
"Ah well, St. Thomas infirmary for you," from the bespectacled shrink.
Is the drinking a symptom of something?
Gorgeous woman diddled by an uncle so very long ago.
Loss of innocence.
And the shrink too obtuse to know.
"St. Thomas for you.
This is how we make a vegetable, folks."
My, this is getting heavy.
I have been through something like rehab, have been turned into a turnip, friggin' veg, but it is amazing that the shrink said, "You don't need a shrink. You need a fairly godmother."
So after I signed myself out of the jigsaw puzzle assembly plant (volunteer patient), and giving up my gig of playing guitar to a captive audience (for sure), I immediately set out to find a fairly godmother.
I was teaching creative wriing at the time, Seneca College had a nurse among the writers, just in case the loopy old bastard would freak, and what do I see in the very first row of this adult class?
A fairy godmother. Salagadoola Metchikadoola Bibbity-Bobbity Doo!
She was twenty-four, wore silk and jewelry that was not too showy, a little portly, like the fairy godmother out of
Walt Disney, right down to the little bouffant ponade.
She took the teacher home.
Says mother in the middle of the night, "Janet, you'd better get that man out of there before your father gets home."
So at three-thirty in the morning, we are at the home of John Simpson, CBC writer, John all bleary-eyed.
But kind of alert.
"Yeah, yeah I know. I am your fairy godfather. And this, I presume is the fairy godmother."
"She'll hit you with her wand."
Ah, how swell was the relationship with the fairy godmother. She cured me for a time, of my alcoholism, gave me something to do, father was a banker, "can I set you up with something?"--but I told him all I wanted to do was loaf.
"Loaf? Here you are a man who made his entire living on writing alone, even qualified to teach over it--and you want to loaf?"
Nature of the beast.( Yes, you're right, R. J. Clazy like Roon).
Enough that for four years, one was in a pretty good situation. Not my subsequent dutchess, the subject of my play, THE FIRE IN BRADFORD, ACT VI, Scene One.
THE FIRE IN BRADFORD
Act VI Scene One
We are again in the professor's apartment. Willie Safer has gone home. The professor is drinking heavily, smoking depressed.
Music in BG:
Ball and Chain, by Janis Joplin.
S-sss sittin' by my window
Lookin' at the rain
Yeeah Sittin' by the window
Lookin at that rain (falling down, Yeah!)
Somethin's got a hold of me honey
Feels to me (feels to me)
Like a ball and chain.
"And I said Aw Aw Aw Aw Aw Aw Aw
Why you do me this way
All I want to do is walk your mouth
You got a hold of me honey
Feels to me like a ball and chain.
MUSIC IN BG. Gradually fading..
STAGE BUSINESS: The telephone is ringing.
The professor puts his drink on the coffee table, continues to hold cigarett in mouth, and say, "Hewwo."
Professor: Celia? What the hell. I thought it was over between us. You'd said so."
Celia's voice: David. We've got to get together. As soon as possible.
Professor: Like when?
How about this afternoon? Richmond Hill?
Professor: Come on, Celia, I can't just drop everything and...
Celia: David. come to Richmond Hill at three. Can you make it?
Professor: But I can't drive. I'm half stoned.
Celia: Take a bus. Come over, David. There have been some developments.
Interior of same Dickensian Trisha Romance restaurant.
The professor is at a booth, waiting for Celia.
She finally walks through the glass door, the light behind her. There is some kind of mark on her pretty, upturned Wasp nose. Celia approaches the professor's table.
Celia: Sorry I'm late. It's been quite a twenty four hours.
THE PROFESSOR NOTICES THE MARK ON THE LEFT SIDE OF CELIA'S NOSE. IT DOES LOOK LIKE A TINY RAZOR GASH.
Professor: Celia. Your face. What happened.
THE DRINKS COME JUST IN TIME.THEY EACH TAKE A DEEP DRAUGHT.
Celia. I don't know. I was on the edges of a homosexual circle.
Celia: And the next thing I know, I was right in the middle of it.
THE PROFESSOR OBSERVES THAT CELIA HAD TRIED TO COVER THE RAZOR GASH WITH MAKEUP.
IN FACT, IT WAS DEEPER THAN HE AT FIRST THOUGHT.
THE PROFESSOR IS SILENT.
Celia (to herself) What a wimp. He isn't going to ask what happened.
BUT THE PROFESSOR ALREADY KNEW WHAT HAPPENED.
HE HAD DRIVEN PAST CELIA'S HOUSE, PEERED THROUGH THE WIDE-OPEN PICTURE WINDOW AND SAW A TOGA PARTY, HEAVILY MADE UP MEN,WITH LAURELS, CELIA IN NEGLIGEE, KNEELING AROUND THEM. ONE OF THE MEN WAS HEAVILY BEARDED. DEAD-RINGER FOR A FRENCHCANADIAN CULT LEADER THE PROFESSOR HAD READ ABOUT. THERE WAS A WOMAN RUNNING FOR THE BACK DOOR.
SHE HAD RUN OUT AND WAS MAKING FOR A TOOLSHED ACROSS A GARDEN, WHERE AN AXE WAS IMBEDDED IN A STUMP.
HE HAD DRIVEN OFF, BUT NOT BEFORE HE SAW CELIA'S FACE, PEERING AT HIM THROUGH THE PICTURE WINDOW. THERE WERE MOTORBIKES PARKED IN FRONT OF THE HOUSE.
THEPROFESSOR IS STARING AT CELIA, HER BLONDE HAIR DISARRANGED, NOT EVEN A WIG.
CELIA IS STARING BACK AT HIM. THERE IS SOMETHING BALLING UP BETWEEN THEM.
SHE EXTENDS HER FINGERS, NO RINGS THIS TIME, ACROSS THE TABLE TO DAVID.
THE PROFESSOR"S OWN HANDS COME TO MEET CELIAS.
BUT HE DRAWS BACK.
THE CRITICAL MOMENT IS LOST.
HE HAS LOST.
CELIA NOW WITHDRAWS HER HANDS.
Celia (Under her breath) Loser. Wimp!.
THE MEAL COMES. THEY EAT THEIR STEAKS, OR TRY TO EAT THEIR STEAKS. CELIA HAS LITTLE APPETITE. THE PROFESSOR CHUGGALUGS A BUDWISER JUST BEFORE THEY LEAVE THE RESTUAURANT, SO STRANGE IS THE TENSION.
OUTSIDE, CELIA SEEMS TO WANT TO LEAN AGAINST HIM, TO NUZZLE HIM. HE CAN HARDLY WALK WITH HER TO THE OFFICE WHERE SHE WORKS, RONALD'S PRINTING, ANAGRAM DIVISION. HER RIGHT HIP IS ALL OVER HIS LEFT THIGH.
AND SUDDENLY CELIA MAKES FOR THE OFFICE DOORWAY.
Professor: Celia! All I ever seem to see is your beautiful ass moving away from me.
Celia (Replying over her Eighties padded shoulder)
Jumping away from you, the way you are.
THE PROFESSOR IS OFFERED A BEAUTIFUL FLASH OF A LOVELY, ELEGANT THIGH THROUGH A BLACK SLIT SKIRT AS CELIA CLOSES THE DOOR.
......end act VI Scene One,