(THEME)


Tim Russell: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets, but on the 12th floor of the Acme Building, one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions -- Guy Noir, Private Eye.


(THEME UP AND OUT)


Garrison Keillor: It was June, glorious June, and the frozen tundra was warming up and I should've been out on a lake folded into an inner tube, sipping a cold soda, but due to a crimp in my cash flow situation, I was working at Ravinia, the outdoor music park in Chicago, doing security. They were rehearsing an opera called "The Great Fire" for tenor (TENOR) and soprano (SOPRANO) and four Dalmatians (HOWLED CHORD) plus a Ukrainian mandolin orchestra (BIG ORCH CHORD) and also a steam-powered fire-engine (STEAM ENGINE) pulled by six horses (HORSES) that would come onstage and catch an elephant (ELEPHANT) who leaps from a burning building -- all great art is derivative -- it was a terrific opera, but it was short. About twenty-two minutes. And to fill out the program they had engaged a group called El Cid.


Sue Scott: We had thought they were a jazz trio, Mr. Noir. And now we've uncovered information that leads us to believe they may actually be a bluegrass band known as Little Pete and His Progressive Ramblers.


GK: I'm not familiar with them.


SS: People in Chicago are. They keep showing up at free public events and trying to get people to sing along to "This Land Is Your Land".


GK: I see.


SS: People in Chicago are naturally leery of sing-alongs. I mean, this is Chicago, it's not Dubuque. In Dubuque, I'm sure they get together all the time and sing "Down By The Riverside" but in Chicago, we're beyond that. This is a hip town, okay?


GK: Well, I don't know -- an opera with Dalmatians and a flying elephant?


SS: It's post-modernism.


GK: Oh.


SS: It's a post-modernist work. Anyway, the average Chicagoan, after years of summer camp and being hauled off to labor rallies by your parents, by the time you graduate from high school and the choir sings "Forever Young" and your principal, the guy with the ponytail, tells you to go out and change society, you like to think you're pretty much done with "This Land Is Your Land".


GK: Is there a banjo in the group?


SS: How did you know?


GK: Just a hunch.


SS: A banjo tuned a hair sharp. And I hear they've sent out word on the Internet. B.Y.O.B.


GK: Bring Your Own Banjo?


SS: You guessed it. There may be a hundred of them here tonight. They're musical terrorists, Mr. Noir. If El Cid turns out to be Little Pete and the Progressive Ramblers, we're going to have a rush for the exits.


GK: I'll be on the look-out.


SS: Chicago is big on music, Mr. Noir. Big on blues, big on jazz, opera, you name it. Everything but bluegrass. Bluegrass we think of as more of a downstate thing. Peoria. Carbondale. (DISTANT BANJO)


GK: It's coming from backstage. (FAST FOOTSTEPS)


SS: I'll look in the green room, you check the dressing rooms. (FOOTSTEPS, DOOR OPEN, CLOSE)


(FOOTSTEPS) (KNOCK ON DOOR)


GK: Security. (DOOR OPEN) Oh. Sorry.


Alice Peacock: Quite all right.


GK: Just running a banjo check. You a banjo player?


AP: Nope. Singer-songwriter.


GK: You with a group called El Cid?


AP: Nope.


GK: The name, Little Pete and the Progressive Ramblers familiar to you?


AP: No.


GK: Singer-songwriter, huh? What kind of songs?


AP: Original songs.


GK: Like what, for example?


AP: Well, tonight I was going to sing a song called "Your Land and My Land"--


GK: "Your Land and My Land"? How does that go?


AP (SINGS): This land is your land because this is your mailbox and this is your name on it underneath the little red flag.
That land is my land, that's where I hang my hat, and where I tie on the feedbag.
I've been to California and seen the redwoods and also New York and the Gulf Coast.
And if you think my land is your land, buddy, you are going to be toast.


GK: Okay. And you don't play the banjo?


AP: No.


GK: Let me check your fingers for pick marks? Okay. Good luck with your music.


AP: Thanks. Am I on after the opera?


GK: I don't think so. There's a flying elephant in the opera.


AP: So I should try to get on before the opera.


GK: Right. (BRIDGE)


SS: Find anything?


GK: No.


SS: Me neither. Just the Dalmatians and their owners.


GK: Wait-- what's this?


SS: A Juicy Fruit gum wrapper.


GK: Juicy Fruit. A banjo player's calling card.


SS: They chew Juicy Fruit?


GK: It's how they keep time. (STING) We strode through the backstage past the tenor (TENOR) and soprano (SOPRANO) and four Dalmatians (QUARTET, HOWLING) -- those are from the fire department?


SS: Those are fire prevention dogs, Mr. Noir. Anti-smoking dogs.


GK: Really.


SS: If they see anyone light up, they're trained to leap on them and take them down.


GK: I'll be careful. -- (FOOTSTEPS) the elephant seemed a little over-excited (ELEPHANT), the stagehands were firing up the steam-powered fire wagon (STEAM), and there was the Ukrainian mandolin orchestra. -- Why a mandolin orchestra, Miss Flexner?
SS: It's simple. Any other orchestra, you've got to pay them. A mandolin orchestra: they pay you.


GK: And why Ukrainian?


SS: Because they don't realize that mandolin orchestras died out a long time ago.


GK: I see. -- The orchestra sat on stage tuning (ORCH TUNING) and I looked them over carefully. You could see they were mandolin players by the fact that their arms were shorter. And then I got a whiff of it. Juicy Fruit. A banjo player was hiding there somewhere. (RAPS ON MUSIC STAND) Okay, folks. Which one of you is the cracker? Who's got the pork rinds? How about you--


MANDOLIN #1: Ya neh rozu mi you po amerikanski morvu.


GK: Easy for you to say. How about you?


MANDOLIN #2: Ya neh rozu mi you po amerikanski morvu.


GK: Don't speak American, huh?


MANDOLIN #2: No.


GK: Nobody here speaks American?


ORCH: Ya neh rozu mi you po amerikanski morvu.


GK: Yeah, well I heard that one before. Okay. Listen up. One of you is lying through his upper bridge. One of you is no more Ukrainian than Bill Monroesky. Fess up. How about you?


MANDOLIN #3: Ya neh rozu mi you po amerikanski morvu.


GK: Stickin' to your story, huh. (FOOTSTEPS SLOW) Okay. I can play that game. I'm gonna stay here until I unmask the yahoo who did this. How about you, sir?


Peter Ostroushko: Ya neh rozu mi you po amerikanski morvu.


GK: Oh yeah? You look American enough to me.


PO: Moya tato u amerikanitz aya yoho neh znav.


GK: Yeah, right. A likely story. If you don't speak English, how come the copy of Tolstoy's War and Peace?


PO: I use it for a footrest.


GK: So you do speak English--


PO: I speak some.


GK: You don't look like a mandolin player to me, mister. You're holding it wrong. On your lap. It's supposed to be tucked up under your chin. You're holding it like a banjo.


PO: You accusing me of being a banjo player?


GK: Maybe I am and maybe I'm not. One quick way to tell. Let's hear you play the mandolin.


PO: Now?


GK: Of course. Why not now? You need to go get some lessons?


PO: Okay. Here goes. (HE PLAYS 'DUELING BANJOS') --


GK: That's not a mandolin tune. Come here, mister. Where you goin?


PO: Got to go see a man about a dog. (RUNNING FOOTSTEPS)


GK: And he took off across the stage...(MANDO ORCH PLAYS CHASE PIECE) he dashed into the wings past the fire wagon (STEAM) and the elephant (ELEPHANT)-- (W. SFX OF DOORS OPENING, CLOSING, FOOTSTEPS, IN TIME TO MUSIC) -- through the soprano's dressing room (SOPRANO ALARM) and jumped out the window (GLASS BREAKAGE) chased by the Dalmatians (DOG HOWL QUARTET) and he ran across the grass (PIGEONS) and knocked over a trash can (CRASH) and almost knocked over an old lady (OLD LADY SHRIEK) and almost stepped on her cat (CAT YEOW) and he disappeared into the Men's Toilet (FOOTSTEPS, DOOR SLAM) just as three big men in black pinstripes walked out of the Men's Toilet...


TR (ITAL): The name is Maestoso, Noir. Tony Maestoso. And here's my brother Big Mario (
FN: Yeah) and my brother Huge Mario (
FN: Nice t' see ya.).


GK: I'm looking for a banjo player. He went in there.
TR (ITAL): Maybe he had a good reason. Look. Mr. Noir. You're new to Chicago. Let me offer you some advice. The last guy who came snooping around here drowned out there in Lake Michigan on account of his footwear was too heavy. Somebody I know happened to be in the boat and accidentally poured concrete in his shoes and before they could help him, he jumped overboard.


GK: Get to the point.


TR (ITAL): The point is, "This Land Is Your Land" is my favorite song.


GK: I think you're using the dread of sing-alongs to put Ravinia out of business so you've got yourself a beautiful property in the middle of Highland Park that you can develop.
SS (GUN MOLL): Speaking of develop, Mr. Noir, how about you and me develop a beautiful friendship. (SEXY SAX)
GK: She was a woman so gorgeous I wanted to throw myself down on the floor and worship her. And if I were younger and better able to throw myself, I would've done it. She was wearing golden stockings and I would've knelt down and worshipped her golden calf.


SS (GUN MOLL): Or we could go for a boat ride.


GK: I don't care that much for boats.


FN: Try.


GK: How about a cigarette, boys? (STING) I whipped out a pack of Luckies and they each took one -- I could hear the Dalmatians starting to hyperventilate -- and when I held the cigarette lighter up (LIGHTER FLICK, PUFF OF FLAME) -- the dogs leaped. (DOG BARKING, SHOUTS. DOGS SNARLING) -- The Dalmatians held the Maestoso gang on the ground until the cops arrived.


TR (IRISH): Good work, Mr. Noir. Lieutenant McCafferty's the name. I'll take it from here. In the paddywagon, boys. (GRUMBLING OFF)


(SEXY SAX)


GK: Can I offer you a ride home? Maybe a drink?


SS (MOLL): Some other time, copper.


GK: And she walked past me. (SLOW WALK, HIGH HEELS) Her pants were so tight I could count the change in her pocket. Sixty-five cents. -- Hey, you're gonna need some more quarters if you're driving the toll roads. You need some change? (FOOTSTEPS) -- And then he was there. The banjo player.


SS (MOLL): Hi, doll.


PO: You need a lift, Ginger?


SS (MOLL): From you, yeah, sugar. You look like you could give me a real lift.


PO: Hey, I can't help it if I'm attractive. I'm Ukrainian. Care for some borscht?


SS (MOLL): Put some sour cream in it, and I'm yours, you big strong man you.


GK: Seeing the woman of my dreams walk away with a banjo player-- it was painful. But the opera was okay. I liked the singing, it didn't go on too long (TENOR/SOPRANO DUET) and the fire truck came out and the safety net and the elephant jumped (ELEPHANT FALLING INTO SAFETY NET) and the singer/songwriter sang--


AP: This land here is your land and my land is that land on the other side of the highway. I did it my way!!!!!!! (DALMATIANS)


GK: And some people in the crowd were calling for a singalong (CRIES OF "GIVE PEACE A CHANCE" "DOWN BY THE RIVERSIDE" "GOD BLESS AMERICA" "THIS LAND IS YOUR LAND") but they were quickly subdued (BONKING AND BOPPING) and taken away (SIREN) and I collected my pay and I headed home. (THEME)


TR: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets but on the 12th floor of the Acme Building, one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions.