Limelight

Written Feb-Mar 2007
Amended April 2012


(An OLD MAN dodders onto the stage. He is dressed in an overused tweed jacket, blown-out corduroy pants, and a porkpie hat. About halfway to CENTER STAGE he sees and acknowledges the crowd, a smile blooms on his face. He begins to ham it up, does a simple soft-shoe routine that looks well-rehearsed, and ends in a big flourish. Whatever the audience's reaction, he continues:)
OLD MAN: Ahhh... If this was 50 years ago, you'd be rollin' in the aisles! Bah!...
(He moves over to a chair at CENTER STAGE and sits down.)
OLD MAN: Oh, that was a long time ago. I can still remember like it was yesterday. I've played bars, nightclubs, subways, Vegas resorts. First show I did was like the first woman I ever made love to. But better. Nothing more intoxicating than that. Beloved Fortuna, as the Medievals called her. The love of the crowd. Oh, but she's a harsh mistress. Worst of the bunch. Chew you up and spit you out, she will. But you love every minute of it.
Started out as a song-and-dance man. Worked the burlesque circuit. Gin joints and dive bars all around Chicago. Dancing girls and rowdy crowds, smoky rooms. Played the violin. Other guy danced a jig, took a couple of girlies and galloped around the stage. Stood in a corner and played Stravinsky, a little soft shoe. Did that two shows a night, three nights a week. Fun life. (He laughs.) Yeah. First couple months. Do a hundred shows of the same crap, see how you feel. Got fed up. One night in Berwyn, had my fill. Old guy's foppin' around the barroom floor. Lookin' like Harold Lloyd in drag. Idiot. Stopped playin' the Stravinsky. Called him a bastard. Dances like a frilly litle monkey in heat. Audience roared. And I saw her. Fortuna! That's when Fortuna came into my life. After that show, people came up by the bushel. Gig after gig, people offerin' me jobs. Put down the violin and talked. I became a bona-fide star!
Fortuna came in and seduced my life. Moved up from working gin joints to hotels and night clubs. People loved sittin' around listenin' to me talk about crap. Fortuna, she plucked me out like an orphan from a rainstorm. Placed me in the public eye. Got a job playing vaudeville houses. Professional heckler. Show would come on the stage, two guys juggling fire or a woman with an elephant or some whatnot. I'd come in, sit down near the stage. Start throwin' things at 'em. Call 'em crap. Boo 'em, hiss 'em. Ushers try to grab me, I'd get outta their way. Cross aisles. Put on some other guy's hat. Lead 'em on a chase in and ou of the theater. Like that Scooby-Doo nonsense. Did that the whole show. End up on stage. Spotlight would hit me. Emcee says, “Ladies and gentlemen, The Heckler!” Standing ovations. Every time. Every town. Toured the Midwest circuit, Chitlin circuit, Appalacian circuit, every stinkin' circuit they had. Fortuna with me every step of the way. Every show. I played more and more gigs. Met more people. Wined and dined. I remember one year, Kansas City, my birthday. Fortuna treated me like a king. After shows were over, she escorted me to a casino. Played the slots all night. Gourmet dinner. Then saw this blues musician on stage. Fabulous show. Great time. Didn't cost me a dime. Then there was the Dells. Played one a' them huge resorts in the Wisconsin Dells. Packed house, thousands of people. Afterwards, escorted to my room by the seductive Ms. Fortuna. That night, was sittin' in one a' them hot spring pools outside. Cold January night, snow was sprinklin' off the roofs. Water was nice, beautiful and warm. Glass of champagne in my hand. Looked up at that glistenin' sky, raised my foggy glass. Knew at that point, was livin' the life made for kings and fakers. This was Shangri-la. And I owed it all to my beloved Fortuna.
Kept performin' that way, 10 years. All around the country. Canada, too. Same theaters, same crowds, same act. Killed 'em every time. But that Fortuna... ooh, she got ornery. Tryin' to tell me to move on. Get a new racket. Feh. Square peg inna round hole. I'm a heckler. I heckle. Damn good at it, too. Ain't broke, don't fix it. Damn bitch got on my nerves. Naggin' little voice in my head. “You're gonna burn out.” “One-trick pony.” “Has-been.” Pah. She never done show business. Thinks she's queen 'cause she's popular. Bullcrap. Don't need her. Don't need her fancy resorts and casino passes. Don't need nothin'. Can do it on my own. Got myself up here, I can take off from here. Screw her. Screw everyone.
So I kept doin' it. Ten years. Did my biggest show in fronta Kennedy. Twenty thousand people at the Lincoln Memorial, and I call ol' Honest Abe a nutbag. Heh. Audience roared. Kennedy, kid called me a National Treasure. Then, poor man got shot. Johnson didn't care. Nixon didn't care. Soon, nobody care. Years later, could hardly pack a room. Had people yankin' my coat in the crowd, pushin' me in the seats. Hecklin' me. Heh. Hecklin' the heckler. Copycats started sproutin' up. Workin' a dead show in Memphis, some guy stealin' my act in Minnesota. I'm dyin' in Houston, some heckler's killin' in Charlotte. In Cleveland. Chicago. Some bastard in Chicago's getting' bigger laughs with my act. My hometown. Bullcrap.
So I went back. Had to start all over again. Dirty jokes 'n too much gin. Had some doozies, too. Feh. Gin joints get tough audiences. Rough. Throwin' stuff at me. Bottles. Chairs. Tore lamps off the roof 'n threw them. Stopped doin' shows. Couldn't play a street corner. Everywhere I go, somebody gotta be funny. Rip my sleeve. Steal my hat. Knock me down 'n call me names. Buncha savages in this town.
Gin joints, heh. Took the gin part home with me. Went home, found a bottle, crawled inside, twenty years. No calls. No visits. Nothin'. For performer, loneliest sound in the world is a phone that never rings. Like that tree fallin' in the forest. You got talent 'n no one's interested, does it matter? Heh. Still waitin' for the answer.
Every day that goes by, still think about her. Can't stop. She was the greatest part of my life. Exciting. Passionate. 'Course, she's the biggest bitch in my life. Bossy. Manipulative. (laughs.) Yep. She's a firecracker. Amazing. Still remember that first time I saw her. Fortuna. I'm on stage takin' the piss outta my partner. And I see her. Walkin' down the main aisle. Sleek, smooth, voluptuous vixen, slinkin' through the seats. Skin pale and delicate as cigarette smoke. Hair, velvety 'n aromatic as whiskey spirits. She was magnetic, intoxicating. She was a vision, a goddess as she floated all the way from the back of the house to the orchestra pit. All eyes were on her. Her eyes were on me. Then she bounded over 'n join me up on stage, stood in my spot. Then, all eyes were on me. (Beat.) Oh, if I could just have one last day with her. Just one hour. Just to talk. Swear I'll never leave again. You were right. You were right. (looks at the audience.) You were right. Had my best interests at heart. Love you, baby. Need you, baby. Come back to me. Swear I'll treat you good this time, swear I'll treat you good.
(Beat. Another Beat. OLD MAN looks off into the audience, and a smile reblooms across his face. He gets up from his chair, starts to do another soft-shoe routine, ends with another big flourish. Whatever the response from the audience, he then pulls a flask out from his jacket and takes a big swig.)
OLD MAN: Bastards.
(The OLD MAN exits Stage Right. Lights fade out.)

Moving...

...again.

And it's all too weirdly familiar.

Friend called me out of the blue this past Saturday. Knows the bombshelter. A mutual friend sharing a room at her pad doesn't use it much anymore. Lease is up August 1. Rent's cheaper here, though digital cable and utilities kinda even it out. Gotta kitchen, though, straight-on 1960s nostalgia complete with dual-oven range, but there's a full-size fridge, dishwasher, and room enough to seat 5 at the breakfast table. In fact, the whole place's palatial. I remember moving them in. I remember helping her girlfriend deliver their new bed. It's got the longest hallway I've ever seen in an apartment. On-site laundry, a luxury I've lived without since Evanston. And two dogs who have known me for six years already. I've crashed at that place. It's closer to the highway. Met up with many friends there. It comes with pre-packaged ghosts.

Last time I was invited by friends to live with them was sophomore year, college.
Last time I lived in a multi-room apartment was 5 years ago, Ukranian Village, Chicago.
Last time I lived above ground was 2 years ago, Villas at Rob Roy, Prospect Heights.

...

Where can one go but up from a bombshelter?

September 1 begins a completely different chapter for me.

...just need to keep feeding the feeling that this is the greatest gift in the world.

Although, in ways, it feels like a step back, like reverting to college life, like reverting to 20-something finding-yourself-all-over-again-ism,... hell, I liked life more during those times. And I liked myself more.

Off-street parking's a total bitch, though. :)


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Now playing: Death Cab For Cutie - Start Again

Hard to Find

A friend at work was cheering me up the other day. She told me, "Good men are hard to find."

Damn right we are.

I'd go as far to say I'm one of the better men.

And sometimes, I'm the only man.

:)

M.B.

I miss you. So much. It's hard to believe it's only been so long since I fell crazy in love with you.
And now here we are. And I'm still crazy in love. And I don't want to leave...

Bet that's probably a bit much coming from me. Probably not. I was like that from the start. You didn't expect any of this, you told me so. But I won you over. And it was great. We felt really good together. You made me feel gooey. Like, gooey. I've been with lots of girls, and not many make me feel gooey anymore. Oh, I craved it. Any chance I could, I would want to be with you. The sex was great (what you got should be bottled and sold on the black market), but I really just loved being with you. The more I learned about you, the more I wanted to learn. And we're so different! There's so much to explore! I felt like I was given the greatest Christmas present ever. And I thought you were feeling the same thing.

Maybe you were. I do believe it. But I know I couldn't give time to it. My life went out the window when I took that second job. But I needed to. I needed to take responsibility for myself. And things are working out, barely. But I never see you. And when I do I'm burnt out. And that's not the way things are supposed to be. I have been trying very hard to accommodate you for us, but you refuse. And then you leave. And then you lie. And I wish you didn't. I wish you could trust me. I don't know why you don't. I guess I'm a fool for doing what I do. I already called myself out as Mr. Rebound, even though you shusshed me on that. In fact, you're the one who's pulling this along. Why? Why are you holding on to me? And why won't you hold onto me tighter?

I get so confused lately. I really don't know how to act around you anymore. All I know to do that does well is to continue to love you. And forgive you. Because I can't have this fall apart like everything else does. And when you look at me, I still see some hope. And for once, I want to ride that wave more than anything. So, this may be the only way I can communicate my true feelings for you. On a blog you don't care about. Where I can say my heart's desire and not fuck everything up. And where I can maintain some control again and ride out this global pattern until it comes around again.

Is this emo? Nah, not bloody enough...

You say I try too hard. Well, wouldn't it be nice if all of us tried just a little bit harder?

Om Mani Padme Hung

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Now playing: Death Cab For Cutie - You Can Do Better Than Me

Mental Health Day

Nope.
No way am I setting foot inside work today.
Mm-mmm.
The results would be disastrous.
For everyone.
I need this.
Today.
Friday I can't.
Now or never.
Just one day.
I can afford it.
'Cause if I don't...


...


Thanks. I needed that.

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Now playing: Thelonious Monk - Straight, No Chaser