(THREE BIG CHORDS)
TR (ANNC): Once again, Rainbow Motor Oil and the Rainbow Family of Automotive Products is pleased to present....The Story of Bob, A Young Artist....
GK: My play, "The Flaming Heart," which Mrs. Zimmer at the Arts Center asked me to revise ---- my play was destroyed by Pops' dog, Rex, one day in the kitchen ---- he grabbed that four-pound manuscript between his teeth and shook it like a badger and when finally we pried it loose, there was only about sixty pages left unchewed, and when I sent those sixty pages to Mrs. Zimmer, she said it was a major improvement. So there you are. My play --- it's going to be produced. In three weeks. I should be happy. But I'm scared to death. What if people hate it? What if I sit in the theater watching it and people around me are laughing and they start walking out? I couldn't bear it. I couldn't. I would absolutely die.
(BIG ARPEGGIATA THEME, APPASSIONATO, AND UNDER....)
TR: The Story of Bob, starring Carson (Bud) Wyler as Bob, and written by Sara Bellum.
(VIOLIN THEME, AND UNDER....)
(DISHES BEING CLEARED FROM THE TABLE)
CF: You care for more of this chicken chow mein, Pops? Go ahead and finish it up.
TR: Don't care for it, Bernetta. Wouldn't feed that stuff to a cat.
CF: What's the matter? It's good. It's got lots of celery in it. Bob?
GK: Oh. All right, Bernetta. (SERVES HIMSELF A HELPING) By the way, if someone calls from the Arts Center, tell them I'll call back later, okay? I don't want to talk to anybody.
TR: Don't know why we couldn't have that hula meat loaf again. That's my favorite.
CF: We had hula meat loaf yesterday, Pops.
TR: So? If it's good, why not again?
CF: What's going on with you and the Arts Center, Bob?
TR: People having to always have something new.....I don't understand it.
GK: I don't want to talk to them.
TR: I don't give a rip for chow mein. Never did. Gives me gas. Big time.
GK: I'm going to write them a letter and tell them not to produce my play. I'll withdraw it.
CF: What????
GK: I can't eat, I can't sleep ---- I just know it's going to be awful. People are going to hate it.
TR: Took two bites of that chow mein and I got a bubble inside me the size of a football helmet ----
CF: But this is your big break, Bob! Your first play to be produced! You can't back out!
GK: It's my big disaster, Burnetta. I'm a guy about to go over a cliff.
TR: Where's the scissors around here??
CF: The what?
TR: The scissors! Can't find the goldarned scissors....
CF: They're in your hand!
TR: In the van?
CF: In your hand!
TR: What van? we don't even have a van.
CF: They're right there. See?
TR: Well, why didn't you say so?
GK: I'm going to withdraw it before they start rehearsals. I do not need to be a figure of public ridicule ---- I just don't need it!
TR: Don't know what a van has to do with a pair of scissors. (SCISSORS SNIPPING)
GK: I don't need another disaster in my life, Bernetta. Would you mind doing that someplace else?
TR: Doing what?? (SNIPPING)
GK: Trimming your nose hair at the table.
TR: You don't like it, look the other way. (SNIPPING)
GK: Burnetta, could you speak to him? Please? Look at this.
TR: What do you want me to do with it? Comb it over my shoulders? (SNIPPING)
CF: I think you oughta wait before you mail that letter, Bob. Don't do something you're going to regret later.
GK: I'm regretting that play right now. (SNIPPING) Do you mind? I am eating.
TR: Go right ahead and eat. (SNIPPING) It's no hair off my nose.
GK: Go do that in the bathroom.
TR: The mirror's right here.
GK: Take the mirror in the bathroom with you.
TR: It's too dark in there. The bulb's out. (SNIPPING)
GK: Just don't do it in front of me while I'm eating.
TR: Wouldn't be doing it in front of you if you'd just turn the other way. (SNIPPING) There. All done. Want me to clip your nose hairs, Rex? Huh? (DOG THUMPING, PANTING, JINGLING) Good old boy. No leftovers for you today, Rex. That chow mein'll give you a case of the runs like you wouldn't believe. You'll be on the pot long enough to read War and Peace.
CF: Why are you so worried about your play, Bob?
TR: It's no good, that's why.
CF: Your play is accepted, you ought to be happy. I know I would be, if I had a play accepted.
TR: Not if it was that play, you wouldn't.
GK: You are so cruel. You know that?
TR: You wait until the critics see your play, then you'll find out what cruelty is.
CF: All right you two. Enough bickering. Pops, you better take your medication.
TR: Oh. Right.
CF: You get cranky when you don't take it when you're supposed to.
TR: What's wrong with cranky? (HE SHAKES PILL CONTAINER) Can't get the dad-blamed cap off this medicine bottle.
GK: I think I should ask her to send it back and I'll rewrite it. I'll put the dwarf king back in it and the rabbits going in and out of the bunny hole and the whole theme of light and darkness. It's not the same without the rabbits.
TR: (STRAINING) Oh for crying out loud. What do they put caps on medicine bottles a person can't even---- (STRAINING)
CF: You know what you ought to do, Bob, is just get your mind off that play. Go work on your collages.
GK: Oh my gosh. I forgot.
CF: What's wrong?
GK: I promised that art gallery I'd have ten landscape boxes for them by Monday.
CF: So?
GK: So????!!!! That's ten landscape boxes I have to make.
TR: Dang these childproof caps! (SHAKES PILL CONTAINER)
CF: Well, they're just cheese boxes with rocks and dirt and sticks and candles and dried leaves in them.
GK: I can't believe you'd say that.
CF: Well, they are.
GK: That's like saying that a painting is just canvas and oils.
CF: Well, they aren't exactly paintings.....
TR: For crying out loud. (STRAINING)
GK: You're talking about art, Bernetta. They have to be composed.
CF: Well, I went and painted a little water color the other day. Wasn't so hard. Look. What do you think? It's nice, isn't it.
GK: You? You're doing watercolors? Burnetta, you've never painted before in your life.
CF: Well, I did this one. Look at it. What do you think?
GK: It's all off balance.
CF: What do you mean, off balance?
TR: For Pete's sake, somebody open up this bottle for me, dang it.
GK: There's no composition. You just smooshed colors around on a piece of paper.
CF: That's what I meant to do. It's called "Exaltation".
GK: But it's not a painting!
CF: It is too.
GK: Burnetta, you don't know anything about composition. Anybody who knows art can look at that picture and see that the person who did that is not a person with a visual vocabulary of any sophistication whatsoever.
CF: Well, I beg to differ.
GK: That is not a painting. That is just a lot of paint.
CF: Pops, what are you doing! Not the hammer! Don't!
TR (MUTTERING, BRINGS HAMMER DOWN, SMASHES CONTAINER): There!
GK: Oh for pity's sake!
TR: Only way to get the dang thing open!
CF: You got pills all over the table.
TR: That's okay. I'll just wipe the nose hair off em and they'll be fine.
GK: You are repulsive, you know that?
TR: Well, when you're my age, you can be repulsive too. Where's a glass of water, Bernetta?
(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 Bob say....
GK: This is the last straw. Look at this. She sent me a contract for the play and it says that the Arts Center has a 25% interest in film rights.
TR: What film rights?
GK: If somebody makes a movie out of "The Flaming Heart" they take 25 percent---- that's not right.
TR: Ha! The chance of your play being made into a movie is about the same as the chance of me getting a sex change.
GK: It's not right. I'm not going to allow it.
TR: What do you have to say about it?
GK: This just makes me furious.
TR: If I want to have a sex change, I'll go ahead and have it --- - I don't need to ask you----
GK: I am sending this back to Mrs. Zimmer with a very terse note. No way.
TR: Just have to get me a wig is all.
GK: Just because I am a first-time playwright doesn't mean they can ride roughshod over me. That's it. I'm not going to allow it.
TR: If you put a sex change operation in that play of yours, maybe somebody would make it into a movie.
CF: (FOOTSTEPS APPROACH) What's everybody arguing about?
GK: I'm not arguing. I'm going to let her know where I stand.
TR: I'm just telling him, if I want to become a woman, dang it, I will. I'm 67 years old. Maybe it's time to cut loose. (HE CLEARS PHLEGM)
GK: Could you please not do that?
TR: That'll give em something to talk about at the senior citizen center.
CF: Pops, I think it's time for your nap.
TR: You want to sit on my lap, go right ahead.
GK: You know, I am at the end of my rope! I can't even hear myself think around here. If I could just get a moment of peace and quiet. Please. Please. (THEME)
TR (ANNC): That's next time on....THE STORY OF BOB, A YOUNG ARTIST. (MUSIC UP AND OUT)
© 1997 by Garrison Keillor