A famous final scene
Kenny G’s sax is setting the mood. Sinatra is singing “One for my baby, and one more for the road.” You slowly slide the computer keyboard tray shut..then it bounces back open because the cord pulled too tight…you slam it this time only to have the keyboard rise up off the shelf tilted at a weird angle. In the dim smoky haze, you reach up to turn off the light, but the desk lamp was packed last week and it still sits in the back seat of your truck. You pause, Ah hell, no one’s listening anyway. The last puff of smoke exits the side of your mouth as you grind out your cigar on the mouse pad. “What are you saying? This didn’t happen, especially my part in this! AND You don’t smoke!” my wife says. “Hey, quit looking over my shoulder, I’m trying to write my famous final scene!” I am trying to be inspired by Bob Seger’s song-“..
Think in terms of bridges burned
Think of seasons that must end
See the rivers rise and fall
They will rise and fall again
Everything must have an end
Like an ocean to a shore
Like a river to a stream
Like a river to a stream
It’s the famous final scene
Well,Rats! There’s nothing like a splash of reality to bring about writer’s block. She’s right though, I don’t smoke. But the part about the keyboard is true. What can you say anyway when the time finally comes to turn the page. (Another Bob Seger reference in previous blogs) Now I sits and I ponder.
So, during this time of ponderation, I reflect back to reading and even auditioning for a role in the upcoming play, Good People. I think about what music would Margie play, or what stories could she relate to as she lived her life and reacted to her circumstances? And what music would Michael like, and why? These are real people with real life situations, and real choices they make. If I were them I’d be justifying my actions, or finding peace in my decisions in all the music and poems out there waiting for me. By the way, Quincy Community Theatre’s Good People opens September 13th and runs through the 23rd. And! There will be a story discussion opportunity after each performance. In case I don’t get the opportunity, I’d like for some of you to ask Jennifer, James, Doris, Ann, or Tom what songs would their characters be relating to? If they give you blank stares, it’s gotta’ be Bob Dylan.
So, back to me: I start thinking about stories, or poems, or songs, or movies or plays about walking away from something you love. There’s always witty utterances, images of sunsets, maybe a hug or classy gestures. (I’m thinking finger guns here) There’s great lighting, poignant close-ups or a wistful look over a shoulder. And of course, whether it is in your mind or in your ears; appropriate music.
But never in any of these scenarios in my head, is there someone checking off a final things to do list. 1. Finish those little projects you committed to. 2. Clean your space. (I don’t know who ever thought it was a good idea to save old Winking’s sacks!) 3. Clear your browsing history. 4.Check around for orphaned coffee cups. 5. Lock your door and turn in your keys. (Whew, this is a tough one!). 6. With one hand, lightly push, then with a two hand shove, your way through those damn south lobby doors. 6. Look around the parking lot one last time. Make sure everyone’s cars are where they should be. 7. Get in the truck and start it up. 8. Put the Kelly Hunt CD in the player and turn it up. 9. In a fog, hit the starter again (Squeal!) 10. Quickly look around for witnesses as you slam it in gear…and drive away…. retired.
But, hey! As always and in the future: Let’s be careful out there!
Dan