(GK: Garrison Keillor, SS: Sue Scott, TK: Tom Keith, TR: Tim Russell, RD: Rich Dworsky)
(THREE BIG CHORDS)
GK: The life of an artist is one of constant rejection, you just go from one humiliation to another, so if you're out there on the cutting edge, like me, and you see a chance to bring your work to people's attention, you have to seize the opportunity, there may never be another one.
(BIG ARPEGGIATA THEME, APPASSIONATO, 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 CLEARED FROM TABLE)
SS: You care for another helping of the hot dish, Bob? No sense putting it back in the fridge, it won't keep -
GK: No thanks, Berniece. I had more than enough. Have you seen my yellow necktie?
SS: No. You care for more hot dish, Pops?
TR (POPS): What about the cops?
SS: I wasn't talking about the cops.
TR (POPS): If it's about my license plates, tell em I don't drive anymore anyway. Isn't that right, Rex - (JINGLE OF COLLAR, PANTING).
SS: We're not talking about that, we're talking about hot dish!
TR: Yer havin' a hot flash, Berniece? It don't surprise me.
SS: He has gotten so hard of hearing -
TR: I am not hard of hearing. Ever since I found this hearing aid in the garbage, I hear just fine.
GK: You found a hearing aid in the garbage?
SS: What kind is it?
TR: A quarter of five.
SS: It's the wax build-up in his ears. We've got to do something about it.
GK: I need to find my yellow necktie, Berniece - the one with the leaves glued to it? It's my best autumn necktie.
SS: I haven't seen that necktie in months!
GK: I have an appointment with Mrs. Costanza in half an hour at the arts center.
SS: You're not going to go by a drugstore, are you, Bob?
TR (POPS): How can he go buy a drugstore? he can't even afford to put gas in the car!
GK: I wish you'd listen to what I say, Berniece. I don't talk just for the exercise, you know.
SS: I'm sorry -
GK: I said, I have an appointment at the arts center, with Mrs. Costanza.
SS: Well, that's nice -
GK: Nice! Berniece, I've been waiting six years for this!
SS: Well, I'm glad for you then.
GK: For six years, she acted like I didn't even exist. And now she's going to accept a two of my paintings for the Pleasantville Millenium Salute to the Arts Expo. I think she is.
SS: It's wonderful. I'm happy for you.
GK: Well, you don't seem very happy.
SS: Well, I have a lot on my mind.
GK: I have a lot on my mind, too. This is my big breakthrough, Berniece. This is it. My moment.
TR: Hey, didja know your fly is open?
GK: I think she's going to take the Portrait of A Lady and the Studies in Orange, I think. The Portrait of a Lady is the one you like, Berniece.
TR: Did you hear what I said? Your fiddle case is open, Mister.
GK: The lady with the black hair - Stop poking me, wouldja? I hate that.
TR: Your barn doors are open. Wide open. Any minute now, Bob Jr. could come waltzing out.
GK: Well, what of it? Stop poking!
TR: I'm not joking.
GK: I said, Poking. Stop poking.
TR: But your zipper's open.
GK: So what? Did you ever stop to think maybe it's part of my look?
TR: Just thought you'd want to know.
GK: If it bothers you, then don't look, okay?
TR: Don't bother me. Ain't much to see there, anyway.
GK: I saw that yellow necktie hanging over the back of a chair in here, Berniece. And there's also a letter in an envelope that I need to show you. (CRASH OF JUNK, RUMMAGE, PROLONG) - oh, for crying out loud -
TR: Hey, watch what you're doing, wouldja???
GK: It's just a bunch of junk.
TR: That's the stuff from under my bed - (RUMMAGE) I'm airing it out.
SS: Don't you have other ties to wear, Bob? How about that nice blue and green striped one I gave you for Christmas?
GK: I prefer the yellow one, Berniece. It has the leaves glued to it. It's more seasonal. And it looks better with this black T-shirt.
SS: You're going to wear that black T-shirt?
GK: Yes! Of course.
SS: Why not a nice white shirt? I ironed you two of them.
GK: Don't tell me how to dress! I'm an artist. Okay? I know how to look.
SS: Okay, I'm sorry. Dumb thing to say.
GK: Berniece, look at me. Look at me. Thank you. I am not a white-shirt type of person, okay? Artists are on the fringe, okay? This is why people want our art. Because we don't look like accountants. Okay? Every way in which we can distinguish ourselves from accountants is money in the bank to an artist.
SS: Sorry. Dumb, dumb, dumb. I'm just a big dummie.
TR: What you need an accountant for? You ain't got no income.
GK: Well, that may be just about to change.
TR: No, I don't have any change! ... and I wouldn't give it to you if I did! Go out and GET A JOB! That's what I had ta do!!
GK: I don't want a job, I've got something better than a job, I've got a calling!
TR: You don't need to shout at me. I'll just turn up my hearing aid.
SS: Pops, that's not a hearing aid. That's a button. You've got a button in your ear.
TR: Don't care for mutton, I'm all filled up from the hot dish.
SS: When you find your necktie and you go out, do you suppose you could stop at the drugstore and pick up some of those drops that loosen up earwax? Could you? He's driving me nuts.
GK: I really can't, Berniece. I may not be back for hours. I've got a lot to do.
TR: You looking for that tie with the leaves stuck to it?
GK: Where is it??
TR: Rex got to playing with it, and he chewed on it -
GK: Oh, for heaven's sake.
TR: Guess he must've smelled a squirrel on it.
GK: So where is it?
TR: I threw it out. He chewed it to ribbons.
GK: Oh, boy. You know, it makes no sense to create things when people are so careless - (HE SIGHS).
SS: So the art center is really going to show your work?????
GK: I think so. It looks like they will.
TR: What's all the yelling about?
SS: Bob is going to have a show at the art center, Pops!!
TR: How can he have a show if he can't even dance or tell jokes? Huh? Answer me that, Rex. (COLLAR JINGLE, DOG PANT)
GK: It's the Millenium Salute to the Arts Expo - and it's not 100% that I'm in the show, Berniece, but I think I am. And just to make sure that I am ... I want you to write a letter of protest.
SS: Why would I ever want to do a thing like that?
GK: Just look at it. (HE UNFOLDS PAPER) It's addressed to the head of the arts center and to the editor of the Pleasantville Gazette - read it ...
SS: "I am writing to protest the obscene and sacrilegeous art that is rumored to be a part of the Millenium Art Expo and I demand that steps be taken to protect our community ..." (SHE SNIFFS) What's that smell? It smells like dog poop -
TR: What about soup?
SS: I didn't say soup, I said it smells like Rex had an accident in there -
GK: If you must know, it's dog dung.
SS: It's what?
GK: Dog dung.
TR: Connie Chung??
GK: I'm putting dog dung on my paintings.
SS: Dog doo-doo?
TR: Putting poop on his paintings? Why? They're bad enough as it is.
GK: (SIGH) Please, let's not have a whole big discussion of this, okay?
SS: Why would you put dog doodie on your paintings? I don't get it.
GK: It's something I want to do.
SS: Oh Bob. You're not going to get in trouble over these paintings, are you?
GK: Berniece, if I thought I could get into trouble, I'd be the happiest artist in the world.
SS: Why ever would you want to do that, Bob? And embarrass us and bring shame on us. Oh, tell me you're not. Please. Please.
TR: Why are you whispering? You talking about sex? (DOG PANTING) They're talking about sex, Rex.
GK: Berniece, I am desperate. I've been sitting in my studio for years, working on this, working on that - waiting for my time to come, and this is my time. (DING OF TIMER)
SS: What's that?
GK: It's the oven timer. I've got something baking.
SS: What?
GK: You don't want to know.
SS: Oh Bob! Not in my oven!
GK: I need to bake them so they don't smell.
SS: I just got done baking my hot dish in there!
GK: And so they keep their shape. (OPEN OVEN DOOR)
SS: I thought that hot dish tasted funny.
TR: What's he got in the oven there, huh? What are those, some kind of hors d'oeuvres?
GK: They're a gift from Rex, Pops. Hot poopovers.
TR: Nothing says lovin' like something from the oven.
SS: Oh Bob, I don't know what to say. I don't even know what to think!
GK: Art has that effect on people sometimes.
SS: I thought you were working on your novel, The Flaming Heart. I thought it was almost ready to publish.
GK: My novel just keeps getting longer and longer, Berniece. It's about three million words. Nobody'll publish it. Ouch, these are hot!
SS: Of course they're hot. You're going to stick em onto the painting???
TR: You need some glue for that. Some Super Glue.
SS: You're going to give the art center your painting of the lady with dog doodie glued to it and then you expect me to send a letter of protest to the paper? I don't have any quarrel with the arts center. I don't care what they show.
GK: Berniece, I need your help.
SS: And what does dog poop have to do with art?
GK: Okay, how about if I glue one of your brassieres to it then?
SS: Honey, why would anybody want to look at a 38 Double-D brassiere?
GK: I'll just entitle it "Reincarnation".
SS: Okay, okay, whatever you say...
GK: I don't think this two-sided adhesive tape is working. (SMALL OBJECT FALLS ON TABLE). Nope. Doesn't hold.
TR: Try sticking it on with hot dish. That stuff'll stick to anything.
SS (INSULTED): Well, thanks a lot.
GK: Hey, you're right. This hot dish works pretty well. Do you think I ought to glue it on her collar, like a sort of brooch? Or stick it next to her ear?
SS: How should I know? You're the artist.
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: Come here, Rex. (DOG PANTING) Haven't talked to you for a long time. No. (JINGLE OF COLLAR, THUMP OF LEG) Good dog. Good old dog. How old are you now, Rex? Twelve, I think. That's pretty old. Yeah, one of these days, Rex, we're going to have to make that long trip to the vet. Yeah. But you know something? I'm going to immortalize you, Rex. Yes, I am. In a work of art. You ever hear of formaldehyde, Rex? Huh? (MUSIC UP)
TR (ANNC): That's next time on ... THE STORY OF BOB, A YOUNG ARTIST. (MUSIC UP AND OUT)
(c) 1999 by Garrison Keillor