Updated 7/31/03

MONOLOGS FOR YOUNG MEN

(The times given
are informed guesses
)

#1 (2:30 minutes)

Adapted from THE MORGAN YARD © 1999 Kevin O'Morrison

(Summer, 1970. A family graveyard on a Missouri Ozark Mountain top. JESSE MALACHI MORGAN, 18, has joined the Army, and his grandmother has just voiced her worry at his having to fight

JESS: Fight? What ever give you a crazy notion like that, Grammaw? I joined the Army so's I wouldn't have to fight! Just looka here - (the born story teller) - The Army sets great store by knowin where ever'thing is. So ever man they put on the job, why right away they just got to have another man keepin tabs on him. An then they gotta have another man to keep tabs on him. Why, for ever fightin man overseas, the Army's got maybe 8 or 10 fellas just makin sure they don't lose him. An for ever one a them overseas - fightin' or not - they's 10 or 14 fellas right here in the States keepin up on them. Why that's more'n 20 to 1 odds against fightin in the Army, right there. (holds up hand to stop her protest) But Grammaw, here's as powerful a piece a knowledge as Cousin Gene ever learned at his ole college: Pa allus said that they was two things in life that don't never change: human nature and Army Sergeants. Don't never tell a Sergeant you want somethin 'cause he'll give you the opposite, certain sure. Now keep your eye on the target, ma'am. Get a bead on it. Keep it in your sights, whilst I tell you. The Army's main job is gettin you to do things you don't want to - that's called Discipline. An fightin is only one thing you might not want to do, so the Army sets itself to find out all the things you don't want to do - that's called Processin. Sergeants do that mostly, an you get Processed first thing. You follerin me? (cocks an eye at her) Now I'm aimin to get 'em to send me to where I can keep an eye on Pa an my girl, Opal Sue. That's my target. So when this Processin Sergeant asked me what I'd like to do in the Army, I told him: "Anythin - 'ceptin' Chemical Warfare." Now it was hot where we was Processin, an the poor Sergeant's neck was chokin out over his shirt collar - which was too tight. An his belly was makin his shirt pucker round the button holes - he'd either had it made tight for vanity, or et more'n he ought to since he'd had it made. So when this Sergeant asked me, "Why not Chemical Warfare?" I said I was just a little ole country boy who'd never got more'n two whoops an a holler up the road from our house. I said that if I got Chemical Warfare it'd be my luck to get sent to Pine Bluff, Arkansas or worse, here to the Arms Depot in Indian Landin, Missouri, an that I'd joined the Army to get away from home. The Sergeant made a note a that on a card. Then he asked me killer-sweet where I'd like to go if I had my druthers. The poor man was near purple with the strain a tryin to keep that belly a his'n sucked in. So I told him that I'd never had enough to eat in my whole life, an I'd just like to go someplace where I could get nice an fat - like him. That's how I got to Indian Landin, Grammaw - mindin what my Pa told me, an keepin my eye on the target.

#2 (2:15 min.)

Adapted from SONGS IN A STRANGE LAND © 1999 Kevin O'Morrison

(Mid-Summer, 1971. Sophie Clery's Greenwich Village Garden Studio. DIXEY MORGAN, 21, in denims with back pack, a Nam Vet just back from 2 Combat Tours, has just discovered that Sophie is a Nurse-Vet and fellow St. Louisan, and now shares confidences --- and the pot she's offered him

DIXEY: (sniffs at box of makings Sophie has just offered him)Say - this is the real article - pure Thailand. (in one easy motion, he slips off backpack, slides down into cross-legged seat, and begins to roll a joint) Funny - all the time I was In-country, I didn't do dope. Me and this other guy - Bobby - we are very tight. Right away we see what's comin' down all around us. Guys high all the time. Falling asleep sittin' up. Right on the bunker. So Bobby says to me, "Dix - somethin's rotten in Denmark - we're not goin' to win this mother, it's look out for Number One, right?" So I say to him, "Tell you what, Bobby - one of us is always sharp. Deal?" "Deal," he says. Way it worked out, couldn't stay sharp if we toked between times. So we ended up not doin' dope at all - either of us. (runs his tongue along paper edge, seals it, but holds it without lighting it, absent- mindedly "weighing" it as he talks) That's how it was the whole time, until --- "There is occasions and cause-why in all things" - that's what Bobby used to say - "occasions and cause-why". He said it an' said it till I could've kicked his butt for sayin' it: "There is occasions and cause-why in all things" - in a pig's ass. (stares at her without seeing her) Like it's a fire-fight, okay? The dude next to you buys the farm, but you walk right through it. Or you're in choppers ready to take off. An' this only once in your whole time over there, your pant-leg catches on a gun support - (tears well up in his eyes unnoticed by him) - you bend over to get it loose --whammo, a rocket from the chopper behind you misfires, goes right over where your head was and takes out -- (swallows hard) - takes out the dude in front of you. (like a sleep-walker) My whole first tour was like that - grunts droppin' all around me and I walk right through it. Mai said - she was - she said it was on account of some Time bullshit - "Everybody's got a place in it," she said. But last fall the VC killed her, in her own village. (beat) She was pregnant --- So I re-upped, walked through that, an' would've re-upped again but the fuckin' Army wouldn't let me. (shrugs) Never thought I'd get back - from my first day In-country. But - I'm here. Only, it's like -- like the real here is some-where else - like my life is goin' on there - - -

#3 (1:30-plus minutes)

Adapted from A PARTY FOR LOVERS © 1999 Kevin O'Morrison

(In the Master Bedroom in an East Fifties Brownstone in NYC, First Saturday In May, 1973, a Betrothal Party is in full progress. Vito, 83, has just bragged how each day - via books and introspection - he explores our Inner and Outer Universes. FERGUS, his youngest son, 24 is tipsy with champagne)

FERGUS: (a kind of manic cheeriness) Explore the Universe - what for! Went t' the moon, nob'dy home! Mars, Venus - nob'dy home. Go th' whole route - won't fine' anyb'dy. Nob'dy to fine', nob'dy out there. ("pleased") Whole system makes deserts. (likes sound of it) Deserts. In college, p'fess'r tol' us, Universe -- no end to. (expansive gesture to show) Unnnn-limit'd. P'fess' very depressed by this. Brain to figure out universe with -- not unnnn-limit'd. Tol' us, "Brain not up to job." (laughs) P'fess'r lookin' through wrong end 'f telescope: we weren't given our kinda brains to figure things out. We were given 'em to speed up the desert-makin' process! Know what I'm talkin' 'bout. Pop's alla time talkin' 'bout his village in Italy - Sabbia. Know what they did to Sabbia? They built an 'tomic r'search center there, 'at's what they did. (glee) Village been poor since the stone age, grew a few grapes for wine, a l'il wheat - 'n' now whole EEC's pourin' money into it. They goin' to rich it to death! Bulldozers already knockin' down th' grapevines. (triumph) Desert. (he turns to his father, suddenly solemn) Didn' figure that out in college, Pop - 't's more like droppin' acid, gettin' hit by lightnin' - jus' came t' me. (to another guest) Take th' war - (scorn) 'S not 'bout politics, f'Chrissakes. Nam was only country over there grew more rice 'n' it needed. So -- we go to work on it, bomb it 'n' spray it, 'n' bingo! Instant desert! (expansively) Now, b'fore I pass out, I'd like to say, glad to have had this li'l talk with you all! (falls backward and out)

#4 (1 min.)

Adapted from SONGS IN A STRANGE LAND © 1999 Kevin O'Morrison

(Morning, June, 1972, a rented Beach House, Fire Island, NY. Outside, heavy rain. Portable Radio on table, party wreckage, pills, "Uppers" and "Downers", scattered about. DIXEY, 22, is on floor on his back; his four companions are zonked out)

DIXEY: (sits up, rages at Radio Announcer) Shut off that fuckin' Radio fathead, will you! (mimics) "Predicting that Paris Peace Talks will resume soon, Soviet President Podgorney returned from Hanoi to Moscow -" (yells at now-silent Radio) TALK ABOUT HILL 805 OR IT'S ALL BULLSHIT! (to his companions) Six fuckin' times we walked UP 805 -- and took it -- Left a lot of good men on the way up. An' six fuckin' times we walked down 805 --- and gave it back! -- Walkin' down we left a lot of good men, too! (beat) Last time we walked up 805 we took 7 casualties. I get to the top and our RTO picks up the moonwalk newscast - some other Radio asshole is saying, "One giant step for mankind." (stares out at rain - beat) Next day we walk back down. Took 6 more casualties walkin' away. (breathing heavy) 13 good men just that one time. (beat) Nobody ever said why we took it - (glares) - or why we gave it back.

#5 (2:15 min.)

Adapted from THE NIGHTGATHERERS (A Work In Progress) © 1999 Kevin O'Morrison

(An abandoned Subway Tunnel off Times Square, NYC. The Time Is Now, Early Evening. JOHNNY BRANNIGAN, late teens-early 20's, Enters)

JOHNNY: What a fuckin' day! What a fuckin' DAY! (glares at offending world) Some fuckin' day, right? (sees bottle cap on floor, kicks at it, misses, is outraged, kicks again, misses again. With growing fury, kicks and kicks until he succeeds in sending the offending bottle cap to darkness) HA! I guess I showed that motherin' bottle cap! No fuckin' bottle cap is gonna come it over me! My name is John and I say no fuckin' bottle cap is gonna come it over me! (scowls at possibly-doubting world around him) You got that? NO MOTHERIN' BOTTLE CAP IS GONNA COME IT OVER JOHN! That's my name, "John" An' it ain't the name for the pisser, neither. You wanna know what it means? Johanon, that's what it means! (lets that sink in) An' you know what Johanon means? It means "Jehovah had mercy" So let's not have no jokes about "John it is the same as a pisser inna bar." Yessir - "Jehovah had mercy" - some Hebe tole me that. Met 'im in Tucson. (snorts) Tucson! What the hell I am doin' in Tucson I don't know, froze my ass off. Would you believe - freezin'. In Tucson! 'At's my luck. Owney thing holdin' me back is my fuckin' luck. Which is why when this Hebe tells me how John is short for Johanon, which it turns out it is a Hebe name to begin with an' means "Jehovah had mercy", I belt 'im in the mouth an' get locked up! Which that was another fine fuckin' day, because there I am with my ass gettin' froze off, an' this Hebe is tellin' how Jehovah is merciful, an' the fuzz is clubbin' me, 'cause I keep yellin' "When? WHEN? When is he merciful?" So they beat on me till I pass out an' I have this dream. Which this dream it is like that whole fuckin' day. I am dreamin', see, I find this wallet. Real creamy leather - with nothin' in it but this slip of paper with a phone number. Now this ain't just any old phone number - it's got 13 numbers. An' the slip of paper says - (he looks around for effect) - this slip of paper says -- this is Heaven's phone number! So soon as I find a pay phone I call it. (spits) I get a fuckin' recordin'! (imitates) "The number you have dialed has been changed. The New Number is - " an' it gives me 13 more numbers. I don't even wait for the rest of the recording - I hang up an' call the new number. An' I get another recordin'! "The number you have reached has been disconnected". A dream like that - a dream like that, it's got no percentage in goin' on with it, so I wake up - with my ass froze off in a cannister, in fuckin' Tucson. Now I ast you, what're you gonna do with luck like that! It's just one fuckin' bad day after another.

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