(THREE BIG CHORDS)
GK: I'm an artist and it's taken me years to figure out that that's good enough, that success is irrelevant to an artist --- money, fame --- there is no measurement that means anything --- an artist is simply someone who gets up in the morning and makes art. That's all.
(BIG ARPEGGIATA THEME, APPACFIONATO, AND UNDER....)
TR (ANNC): The Story of Bob, A Young Artist....brought to you by Rainbow Motor Oil and the Rainbow Family of Automotive Products.
(VIOLIN THEME, AND UNDER....)
(DISHES BEING PUT ON THE TABLE. COFFEE BEING POURED)
CF: You care for more of the tuna melt, Bob?
GK: No. One is enough for me, Bernetta. Did a Mrs. Zimmer happen to call this morning?
CF: I don't think so. ---There's plenty of tuna melt. I made extra.
GK: I can't eat a big lunch, Bernetta, if I'm going to work in the afternoon ---- she said she was going to call.
CF: They're small helpings. How about it?
GK: Maybe Pops'll have another---
TR: Have another what?
GK: Another tuna melt----
TR: How come you didn't put peas in it, Bernetta?
CF: I never put peas in tuna melt.
TR: Berniece does.
CF: Well, that's her business. ---What did this Mrs. Zimmer want?
GK: How do I know? I didn't talk to her.
TR: Best tuna melt I ever had was at Camp Wimmiwadji. Back when I was the handicrafts counselor.
GK: She's the Mrs. Zimmer at the arts center----
TR: Handicrafts was in the basement of Gitchee-Gumee Lodge. Later it moved to a shed near the softball field.
GK: She was interested in my collages.
TR: But back when I was there, it was in the basement of Gitchee Gumee Lodge.
GK: Pops? you didn't happen to talk to a Mrs. Zimmer, did you?
TR: Yes, of course there were swimmers. But I didn't teach swimming. I taught handicrafts. Kids made lanyards. Made em out of plastic. Still got a whole box of em around here somewhere.
GK: Pops, Camp Wimmiwadji shut down fifteen years ago. It was developed into luxury retirement housing. It's over.
TR: I'd like to spend another summer there once I get my strength back.
CF: Camp Wimmiwadji is gone, Pops.
GK: Maybe I should call her.
CF: Why don't you---- How about the last of the tuna melt, Pops-- --
TR: No thanks. Maybe Rex would --- what do you say, Rex? huh? tuna melt? (DOG THUMPS, PANTS, JINGLES) Rex'd like some more tuna melt.
GK: I just don't know that I can take any more rejection at this point.
CF: Is she interested in that motet of yours?
GK: I'm not working on the motet.
CF: Oh. I thought you were.
GK: No, I'm working on a play.
CF: I see. ---- Is it ---- sort of based on your motet?
GK: No. It's called "Solitude".
CF: Well, that's a good title. "Solitude".
GK: It's about a man who is alienated from other people because he has three eyes and so he doesn't have any friends or anything except for a mouse who lives in his wastebasket, the mouse is the only one he can talk to, and then the guy realizes that the only reason this mouse is listening to him is that the mouse can't get out of the wastebasket, so he thinks about it and finally he sets him free. ----- You don't like it, do you?
CF: I like it.
GK: You think it's dumb, don't you. She wanted me to change it.
CF: I think it's good. So what happens?
GK: What do you mean?
CF: He lets the mouse go, and then what?
GK: What do you mean "then what"?
CF: What happens to the mouse?
GK: Why is something supposed to happen?
CF: But does the mouse stay? or does he run away?
GK: That's what you don't know.
TR: Don't sound like a big blockbuster to me---- what do you think, Rex? Huh? (DOG THUMPS LEG, COLLAR JINGLES, PANTING)
GK: (SIGHS) They were going to put it on at the art center, but she wanted me to write another character into it....
CF: Well, maybe that's not a bad idea.
GK: She thought there should be a woman in it. Like a cleaning lady.
CF: Well, that might be nice.
GK: But then the whole idea of solitude is gone. I don't know. I'm doing probably the best work I've ever done and people want me to compromise it. Nobody is committed to experimental theater anymore.
TR: We did theater at Camp Wimmiwadji ---- did a musical every summer. The summer I was there we did "Fie, Fie, Fifi". Boy, that was something.
GK: I don't see what a cleaning lady adds to it. I really don't.
TR: I played Fifi. Boy, they were talking about that for days.
GK: And she said it was too long. Three hours. Too long. I don't get it.
CF: Well, I'm sure somebody'll discover it.
GK: I think I'm going to put it aside and just concentrate on finishing my collage.
CF: A collage------- that sounds interesting.
GK: It's crumpled newspapers. I paint em and then I crumple them this certain way and put on lacquer and glue em to a black background.
CF: Well, that'll be something to see, won't it.
GK: It's called "The Void".
TR: That was the name of the boating instructor at Camp Wimmiwadji.
GK: Void?
TR: Oh, thought you said, Floyd.
GK: Why would I call a collage Floyd?
TR: Floyd Hendrickson was his name. Big tall fellow. Good guy. I made a lanyard for him once.
GK: You know, it's awful hard to carry on any sort of conversation around here---- I'm going to get back to work. (SCRAPE OF CHAIR. FOOTSTEPS.
CF: I'll tell you if Mrs. Zimmer calls---
TR: You want to go for a walk, Rex? huh? (DOG THUMPS LEG, PANTS, COLLAR JINGLES) you need to tinkle?
GK: (DOOR SLAM)...(FOOTSTEPS. SOUNDS OF PAPER, SOME TRASH, MAN SETTLING HIMSELF IN A TURMOIL OF THINGS.) It's just a madhouse around here. I feel so---- trapped. Trapped by pettiness. By misunderstanding. If I didn't have my art ---- I don't know what I'd do. It's all that keeps me sane. Assuming I am. (THEME)
TR (ANNC): THE STORY OF BOB, A YOUNG ARTIST....was brought to you by Rainbow Motor Oil and the Rainbow Family of automotive products. Join us next time when we'll hear Bernetta say....
CF: Maybe you'd do better, Bob, if you found something to sort of take your mind off your art....if you did your art as a hobby...
GK: Take my mind off my art-----
CF: I think you're trying too hard.
GK: Artists have their minds on their art all the time, Bernetta. A hobby! Criminy.
CF: You need to get out of the house more----
GK: I'm here because I've got work to do, Bernetta. I've got years worth of work I've got to organize.....get it into shape....
CF: Maybe if you joined a club or something-----
GK: Join a club!
CF: You'd get to meet people----
GK: An artist does not get away from his art, Bernetta.
CF: You sit in there for hours.
GK: Art is my life, Bernetta.
CF: Bob, you're thirty-seven years old and what have you accomplished?
GK: That's not the point.
CF: Except for the one poem you had in Montage magazine and the stack of old newspapers they had in the art show ---- what have you done?
GK: It was not a stack of old newspapers. It was a conceptual sculpture.
CF: It was a stack of newspapers, Bob.
GK: To you it was a stack of newspapers. To other people, it was found art.
CF: Bob, you need a life.
GK: I have a life, Bernetta. Just because you don't understand it----
CF: Bob, this is not healthy.
GK: I am not interested in your ideas about health, Bernetta. I'm interested in one thing and one thing only.
CF: Art---
GK: Yes! (MUSIC UP)
TR (ANNC): That's next time on....THE STORY OF BOB, A YOUNG ARTIST. (MUSIC UP AND OUT)
© 1997 by Garrison Keillor