(GK: Garrison Keillor; SS: Sue Scott; TR: Tim Russell; FN: Fred Newman; KC: Kristin Chenoweth; RF: Rob Fisher)
(MUSIC)
GK: Charlie was dead, her agent, dead as a doornail. The obituary was in Variety, the memorial service was held. He was the agent who gave her her name ---- Rouge -----like Cher or Madonna ---- Rouge ---- and he brought in her big hit, "I'll Be Home For Christmas," which went platinum in 1985, her first big hit and her last. And after he died, she kept right on hustling, marketing herself, doing her annual Christmas show, fifty cities in two months----- and looking for that next big hit-----
KC: Rouge. She's back. That's what they'll be saying in the spring. When my new record hits. (PIANO) (SHE SINGS) "I'll Be Home For Valentine's Day, I'll Belong To you" ---- (SPOKEN) What do you think, Cratchit?
RF: I'm only an accompanist and arranger, Miss Rouge.
KC: Well, tell me what you think----
RF: I'm not used to thinking anymore. Just accompanying.
KC: Well, do you think it's Me?
RF: Oh, it's you all right. Definitely. (MUSIC)
GK: Oh she was a hard one, grasping, covetous. Sharp elbows and a cold heart.
KC: Get my publicist on the phone. Why can't I get the cover of Vanity Fair?
GK: Her long nose had been sharpened by surgery and her chin too and her entire face had been tightened and she had an expression of perpetual surprise. There were no soft wrinkles, only a sort of molded plastic look. None of her fans ever stopped her in the street and said, Hi. Even the dogs in the street took one look (WHINE) and turned away. Temp workers were terrified of her.
KC: What is this? You call this coffee? Did I ask for whole milk? I said 2 percent. This isn't a scone, it's a Danish. If I'd wanted a Danish, I'd have said so. I told you to get my publicist. One more time. (PIANO) (SINGS) "I'll Be Home For New Year's, I'll Belong To You, Bring Me Cheese and Melodies and Champagne in a Shoe------" (KNOCKS ON DOOR) Go away, I'm busy. (DOOR OPEN) Who is it? (FOOTSTEPS) Oh. Fred----
TR: Good evening. And merry Christmas.
KC: Merry Christmas, indeed. I've done 40 shows in 40 cities with the same stupid dancers dressed up as reindeer, and that hideous gingerbread house set and singing that horrible song over and over and over ---- I'll Be Home For Christmas ----- I hate it. I hate the whole thing. I can't wait for it to be over.
TR: But your shows are sold out everywhere, people are excited. They love you ----and it's Christmas!
KC: Christmas! I hate it! It is such a crock!
TR: You can't be serious---
KC: I am. I despise Christmas! I wish that every Santa Claus were boiled in his own eggnog and made into a creme brulee!
TR: Christmas is such a good time. A time when people open their hearts to each other. A time of kindness and true sentiment----
KC: Hogwash! If you had to sing "Hark the Herald Angels Sing" with disco dancers 40 times in 40 cities, you wouldn't be talking about open hearts, pal ----- you'd be talking homicide-----
TR: It's a time when people look on others, not as aliens or competitors but as fellow passengers on earth----
KC: That's no way for a publicist to talk, Fred. You're supposed to get me on magazine covers. I don't want to be a fellow passenger, I want to be Rouge------ (KNOCKS) Who's there? (DOOR OPEN, FOOTSTEPS) Go away, I'm not interested.
SS: Such an honor to meet you, Miss Rouge, I'm your biggest fan and I'm here collecting for the Elderly Hoofers and Crooners Home. Every year at the Christmas season, we like to put on a little party for the old geezers of the theater at which they have a chance to get up and sing and dance and get a bag of candy and mixed nuts and a little Christmas stocking containing mouthwash and calcium tablets and Vitalis hair tonic and Metamucil and Preparation H----
KC: Let them do infomercials.
SS: They're too old.
KC: Nobody is too old to do infomercials.
SS: They're in wheelchairs. They can barely talk. And their hair is really bad.
KC: Well, if they have bad hair, then they're out of luck, aren't they. If they didn't invest wisely back in their good hair years, then there's nothing I can do for them.
SS: But Miss Rouge---- it's Christmas----
KC: Hogwash!
SS: A very merry Christmas to you, Miss Rouge---- (JINGLE OF BELLS)
KC: Get out of here. I'm busy. And get those stupid bells out of here----- (HANDCLAPPING, OFF) What are you doing, clapping?
RF: Sorry. I was overcome with feeling.
KC: You're an accompanist, Mr. Cratchit. It's not your job to have feelings. It's your job to accompany. And keep your hands on the keyboard.
RF: Yes, ma'am.
KC: I suppose you'll be wanting time off next week----
RF: It's Christmas, Miss Rouge.
KC: This is the worst possible time for you to be slacking off, Mr. Cratchit. I am desperately trying to come up with a new hit song and you're going to abandon me? How can you?
RF: I just need a few hours to spend with Mrs. Cratchit and my little children, Peter and Martha. And Diminutive Dave.
KC: He's the weird one, right?
RF: When he was little, the piano fell on him, and it did something to his growth hormones, and now he just keeps getting smaller. He's down to four inches in height now. The doctors say---- (HE DRAWS A BRAVE BREATH) this may be the last year we'll have Diminutive Dave with us.
KC: Well, time's a-wasting, Mr. Cratchit. Let's get back to work. (PIANO) (SINGS) "I'll be Home for Memorial Day, I'll Belong To You, We'll Hang some Lights On Burial Sites, And Bring Them flowers Too." (MUSIC)
GK: That night, Miss Rouge sat in her penthouse apartment at the Ansonia and ate her customary supper of wheat germ, watercress, and rice wafers, when ---- (CLANKING OF CHAINS, MOANING) she heard a noise ---- someone coming in off the terrace (MOANING, CLANKING OF CHAINS) -----
KC: Who is it? (MOANING) Charlie?
TR (GHOST): Yes, it's me, Rouge.
KC: Why are you here? You're dead.
TR (GHOST): Tell me about it.
KC: What are those chains you carry?
TR (GHOST): Development deals. Contracts.
KC: You seem upset, Charlie----
TR (GHOST): I'm an agent and now in the afterlife, I get 10 percent of all the world's misery. Ohhhhhhh. That's a lot of misery. -----
KC: Well, I wish you'd try to find me another hit song, Charlie. If you run into George Gershwin-----
TR (GHOST): (AGONIZED MOAN): You will be visited by three spirits, Rouge. The Ghost of Christmas Past, The Ghost of Christmas Future, and Al Gore.
KC: No. Please. I don't have any time. I'm extremely busy----
TR (GHOST): Expect the first when the clock strikes twelve----- (HE EXITS MOANING. BRIDGE)
GK: She went to bed, thinking she'd imagined the whole thing-----
KC: Maybe I need to up my dosage of Zoloft.
GK: But that night, the clock struck twelve. (CLOCK STRIKING) And---- she was aware of a light in the room, and the light came from a figure who sat on the edge of the bed looking at her, a fantastic figure, part child, part old man, a dead ringer for the late Truman Capote:
TR (CAPOTE): These are really nice bedspreads and I love the window treatments.
KC: Are you the spirit, Sir, whose coming was foretold to me?
TR (CAPOTE): I'm not Ethel Merman, sweetheart. Hold my hand and let's fly! (WHOOSH, MUSIC)
GK: And Ms. Rouge and the spirit flew out over the housetops of the city and over the countryside and soon they landed in a little town, late at night, in winter, in front of a high school where the lights burned in the theater.
KC: Good heavens, spirit. I went to school here as a girl.
TR (CAPOTE): Remember it?
KC: I could find my way blindfolded.
TR (CAPOTE): Look inside. A little girl is there, alone, rehearsing.
KC: Why---- it's me.
TR (CAPOTE): Everyone else has gone home but she's still working, practicing her big number----
KC (GIRL): Tonight--.tonight--..won't be just any night--.
Tonight there will be no morning star----- (ETC. OR OTHER OLD B'WAY HIT)
TR (CAPOTE): And later she'll go to the cast party at the Petersons' house----- (PARTY HUBBUB)
KC: Oh, Spirit----- Everyone is there----the old gang ---- all the kids in theater ----- look, it's Victor in his Dr. Seuss hat----and Brian talking in that odd English accent----.Jeannette smoking from a cigarette holder------everyone full of himself, flirting, giggling ----- such wonderful affectations ---
TR (CAPOTE): Let's move along, sweetheart----
KC: No, I want to stay. --- How innocent we were ---- (PARTY HUBBUB, LAUGHTER) ----- How silly ----- how beautiful -----
TR (CAPOTE): Come, fly with me, and we'll look at another scene. (BRIDGE)
SS: Okay, people. Make a line. Heads up. Boy, girl, boy, girl, boy, girl---- come on, we don't have all night.
KC: It's Miss Pearson, my high school drama teacher. Rehearsing "Our Town".
TR (CAPOTE): Good old Miss Pearson.
KC: She thought "Our Town" should be a musical. So she wrote songs and in Becky's burial scene, she has all the dead people in the cemetery do a dance-----
SS: Okay. All the dead people. Mrs. Gibbs--- pay attention! Thank you. I want you to stand up on your graves, and ---- And one--- and (DANCING FEET).
ALL: We are the folks of Grovers Corners---
Doing a show for all these mourners----
We were married, and then we were buried,
Rest in peace, eternal slumber,
And now it's time for our big number------
SS: Once more. Not so draggy. Pick up your feet. And one---- and-----
ALL: We are the folks of Grovers Corners----- (BRIDGE)
KC: Oh, I loved her so much. Miss Pearson. When you saw her smiling at you, that was all the encouragement you needed----
GK: They flew on through the dark and came to an apartment building on 102nd Street in Manhattan.
TR (CAPOTE): Recognize it?
KC: My first apartment. 7F.
TR (CAPOTE): The futon. The dried noodles in the cupboard. The TV with the bad reception. The telephone you hoped would ring.
KC: I waited and waited. Hours. Wondering if anybody wanted me.
TR (CAPOTE): And they did and you became a huge success.
KC: Now I'm not so sure. (BRIDGE)
GK: When she returned to her apartment, she was exhausted and fell into bed and slept and was awakened by a light in the darkness-----
KC: Hello?
TR: I am the ghost of Christmas Present.
GK: The ghost was seated upon a bull (BULL). And leading a bear (BEAR). And a flock of turkeys. (TURKEYS)
KC: Lead on, Spirit. (BRIDGE)
GK: And they soon found themselves at the humble fourth-floor walkup of Rouge's accompanist, Bob Cratchit, arriving home from work.
SS: Oh come in, my dear. Sit down by the fire. Let me get you a bowl of gruel. I made some with Echinacea. You must be exhausted.
RF: I am. We've been rehearsing "I'll Be Home for Arbor Day" and "I'll Be Home for Veteran's Day" and "I'll Be Home for Hanukkah in Santa Monica" and nothing seems to work---- where's Diminutive Dave, my dear?
SS: Just got home from therapy----
RF: And how was he?
SS: Good as gold. Did his stretching exercises. She pulled on his feet and he never complained-----
RF: And did she say that he's getting taller?
SS: No----
RF: Well, we needn't talk about it. It's Christmas!
TR (SMALL): Hi Dad. Merry Christmas.
RF: Why, Diminutive Dave----- come and climb up here on my lap----
TR (SMALL): Okay. You need anything from the floor? Anything from under the chair or a low drawer?
RF: No-----
TR (SMALL): Want me to shine your shoes?
RF: No-----
TR (SMALL): Pick the lint off your cuffs? (MUSIC UNDER--..)
KC: The apartment is so tiny. And threadbare.
TR (GHOST): He's a musician.
KC: The faucet leaks, the radiator isn't working----
TR (GHOST): They're not good at maintenance.
KC: And his piano is so small---
TR (GHOST): He could only afford one with black notes.
KC: What will they have for Christmas dinner?
TR (GHOST): Turkeyburgers and hash browns. And cranberry in little plastic packets.
KC: No goose?
TR (GHOST): Can't afford it. Not on the money you pay him.
KC: But I pay scale!
TR (GHOST): Scale! Don't make me laugh. It's a scandal. They sit and fiddle at the revels of the wealthy and go home with spare change in their pockets. Musicians scale! What a joke! (LAUGHTER FADES UNDER--..) (MUSIC) (BELL TOLLS)
KC: Another Ghost. I've been expecting you.
TR (GORE): I am the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come, but you can call me Al Gore. Contrary to what many people believe, I'm a completely natural and down-to-earth guy and not a ghost at all and I remain hopeful that we will have many Christmases Yet To Come and that if this country can get back on track economically---- (HE CONTINUES AS SHE INTERRUPTS)
KC: Excuse me----- And you are about to show me shadows of things that may yet happen?
TR (GORE): Yes, I personally feel that taking a good look at the future is a good thing, for us as individuals and also for us as a society, to look ahead and to plan a future course that is realistic but hopeful.
KC: O Spirit, I fear you more than any I have seen----
TR (GORE): People say that about me, I don't know why------
KC: But I know that you intend me good---
TR (GORE): Of course I intend you good. Come. Let's take a look over here---- (BRIDGE)
GK: And she looked and there were people in her apartment, which was all bare except for some boxes---
SS: So how was the memorial service?
FN: I was hoping you'd tell me.
SS: You didn't go?
FN: I had a lunch date.
SS: I thought you were her best friend.
FN: I was her hairdresser.
SS: You were her hairdresser for twenty years. You didn't go?
FN: Why didn't you go? You were her cleaning lady.
SS: I'm busy. It was at a funeral chapel way over on the East Side. --- So I wonder who went?
TR: I went.
SS: The doorman?
TR: She gave me a dollar last Christmas, so---- I went and---- there were only three of us there.
SS: Really!
TR: Me and her accompanist and her bartender.
FN: Who spoke?
TR: I did.
SS: You??? You gave the eulogy?
TR: I was elected by a 2-1 vote. And I gave a very nice speech. Which I've given at a number of other memorial services for people from the building.
SS: I had no idea you did eulogies.
TR: I'm the doorman. If nobody else is willing to do it, I'll see you off to the next life.
FN: So where was she buried?
TR: I don't know. I hailed a cab and gave him the ashes and I said, "Spread em." And he put his hands against the cab and leaned forward with his legs apart. And I said, "No, the ashes!" And he took em and I gave him a ten-spot, and that's all she wrote.
SS: So who's going to get the posters and the photos and the scripts?
FN: Who cares? Recycle it. All I want is the coffee table.
KC: I can't bear it---- Spirit----- take me away-----
TR (GORE): I believe it was the Beatles who said, in "Strawberry Field," "Won't you take me down--..where I'm going to-----
KC: Tell me---- What happens to Diminutive Dave, Spirit?
TR (GORE): Without proper training programs and nutritional counseling, our nation's vertically-challenged community faces a future of shrinking resources-----
KC: No, spirit---- no----- (BRIDGE)
GK: And she awoke. She was in her apartment. It was morning.
KC: It's all bright out. (TRAFFIC AMBIENCE) Why, there's a boy on the street----- Hello?
TR (OFF): You talking to me, lady?
KC: What day is today??????
TR (OFF): Christmas!
KC: Christmas. (CHURCH BELLS RINGING, IN COURSES) I haven't missed it after all. I'm so happy. ---- Boy????
TR (OFF): Yeah?
KC: You know the deli around the corner?
TR (OFF): Yeah?----
KC: Is that magnificent smoked turkey still hanging in the front window?
TR (OFF): Yeah----
KC: Go and buy it for me! Two of them!!! I'll send one to my publicist Fred. And another one for Rob Cratchit! And maybe I'll send a third one to the reviewer at the Times----- (BRIDGE)
RF: Miss Rouge! I'm amazed that you'd drop in and visit! It's great to see you! Merry Christmas!
KC: Merry Christmas, Rob. I came to bring you this smoked turkey and caviar and croissants and ---- I'm going to raise your salary and help your family in every way possible!
RF: Would you mind putting that in writing? (MUSIC)
GK: And she was true to her word, and to Diminutive Dave, she was a fairy godmother. She found the growth hormone treatment that reversed his diminution and he quickly became 7 feet 5 inches and a starting forward for the New York Knicks. And the Knicks won the NBA championship that year. And New York solved its fiscal crisis. And Rouge got face relaxation surgery that allowed the formation of wrinkles. And her career took off. She reinvented herself as a gospel singer and had six albums that all went platinum and won an armful of Grammies and she sang at Al Gore's inauguration in 2005.
KC: No matter all the wrong we've done,
At home and on the run,
What foolish things, what thoughtlessness,
God bless us,
God bless us,
Every One. (MUSIC OUT)
© Garrison Keillor 2002