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?

Probably.

Gorgeous woman diddled by an uncle so very long ago.

Loss of innocence.

Arrested development.

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


Scene:
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.

Music: UP.


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.

CUT TO:

Scene Two:

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.

Professor: Wha...

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.

Celia: What?

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.

CURTAIN.


......end act VI Scene One,

10 comments:

Josie said...

Ivan, I'm assuming this is taken from your real life, and I must say, you lead a really interesting life. Is this play going to be performed on stage? I would love to see it.

(I loved Janis Joplin).

Cheers,
Josie

ivan said...

Yes, Josie sitting by the window, looking at the rain will surely bring to mind Janis Joplin, especially now, in rainy Vancouver.

I have been sending around a prospectus of THE FIRE IN BRADFORD

Unfortunately, the reaction is mixed.
Responses vary from "genius" to
"f*cking idiot who chases his girlfriend all over the region."

Ah well. The girl with the curl, as I told e.a.
When she was good, she was very good
When she was bad she was horrid.

There is a strong chance that the play will be taken by a local theatre company.
But I have found from past experience, that if you have a good thing going and tell people about it right away, that little devil on your left shoulder will pitchfork you so hard your your entire left side will seize up.

Shesawriter said...

Where have you submitted this and when did you write it?

ivan said...

I wrote the novel version in '96 and the play version just a few weeks ago.
I did not submit anything to anybody until this fall.

At present, the only encouragement I've had was a wink from a Newmarket ON theatre director.
But I know that wink.

ivan said...

p.s. to Tanya,
There have been people emailing me, publishing world insiders, who for some reason, can't write, even though they know everybody from Bob Loomis at Random house, through the Kennedys in U.S. and our own Jack McClelland of McClelland & Stewart.
The insider, once a magazine editor, seemed absolutely paranoid about putting his stuff--or even my stuff-- online. This represents a serious leak and apparently a no-no for anyone seeking Madison Avenue publishing.
I am probably making a mistake by putting my play-manque' on line, but then there's my sometime correspondent, Gerard Jones, rejected 50,000 times (copy and paste)--who nevertheless did not get his GINNY GOOD published until he put it online.
Monkfish Publishing company accepted the book, right off the screen, but told Gerard to take GINNY GOOD right offline.
...If you email me, I'll tell you
the lone publishing house in Canada that I'd sent The Fire in Bradford to.

Ivan

EA Monroe said...

Hi Ivan. You need to write the History of Your Life -- so colorful and eventful! I sent you a short email the other night. Did you receive it, or is it floating out there in cyberspace, lost?

If your play is performed we may all have to come visit and see your play!

ivan said...

Hi Liz,
My firewall set too high. Can't get attachments very well. My son also tapping me with an erase-tipped pencil for not learning Word.
...I'm like the guy who got a book on the G-spot: Not only could he not find the G-spot, he lost the friggin' book!
Your suggestion about an autobiography might be right on.
Peter Martin, a publisher in Ontario, said a long time ago that my mistake was in writing novels and not the story of yours truly.
...But then I had to crank out a novel or two just to see if it could be done. It was done.
Think I pissed off everybody in Canada. "You mean that pointy-headed little p..ck can actually do it? Destroy him!
You can try e-maling me again.
My only concern was with your opener in the Troll Girls.
Too many repetitions of the same name. If you look, you'll see.
Last time I criticized a woman's opening para, she threatened to burn my house down, so I have to be careful.
I do, in fact find your material really fascinating. Reminds me all too much of my old high school. Those poor girls! Browbeaten and crapped upon. The philosophy was to utterly dominate those poor girls in the commercial course.
"That was for nothing (smack!)...Wait till you do something."
Education in Ontario, fifty years ago, was straight out of Charles Dickens...Nowadays, everybody passes as not to have a student lose "self-esteem." Lazy, unionized teacher and the idiots who suggested "Open Concept Learning" in the first place.
...I mean, I got smacked for being a Polack--why shouldn't everybody else?
Thank God for the Royal Canadian Air force and what passed then for the GI bill. Got me into one mothergrabber of a university.
I could finally order principals and teachers around. Like they had to be nice to me since I was head honcho on the education beat for something called The Mirror.
I think you, Josie, Tanya, Sela, R.J. and a whole lot of other people are somehow bringing old Ivan back to life.
Came at a good time. I just missed a $50,000 book contract.
Ah well, sometimes I think my family motto should read, "Semper in Excreta."
YOu are so friendly and polite.
You call it mischief.

Ivan

Josie said...

Ivan, you are definitely not old. The spirit of who (whom? I never get that right) you are comes through loud and clear on your blog.

I agree with Liz. You should get your play produced and we should all go to see it. Well, stranger things have happened.

We have a VERY active community theatre here in Vancouver. Each neighborhood has its own community theatre, and each one is excellent.

You have led an interesting life.

Cheers,
Josie

ivan said...

That is so cool, Josie.

Who and whom:

"Whom are you?" She asked, showing she'd been to night school. LOL

Age: I somehow stay young by walking twenty mile a day. I eat salmon (B.C. salmon, heh).
Trouble with seafood, it's a lot like natural Viagra.
I come home, turn on the TV and all I see on a Friday night is people making out--even on the religion channels, late at night.
Can't close my eyes.
Turn on the computer and Lava Life come callin'.
An old girlfifriend called and I had to ask for a rain check. Told her about my health kick.

I can pee just fine now!

Anonymous said...

Watiti.com
Join me and my circle of friends at http://www.watiti.com,
an online social networking community that connects
people from all over the world.

Meet new people, share photos, create or attend
events, post free classifieds, send free e-cards,
listen music, read blogs, upload videos, be part of a
club, chat rooms, forum and much more!

See you around! Bring all your friends too!

Watiti.com