EDITOR'S NOTE:
Terry Porter's video of this performance
may be found here:
https://youtu.be/P-NhaU8bogU
(11 minutes, 46 seconds)
Terry Porter's video of this performance
may be found here:
https://youtu.be/P-NhaU8bogU
(11 minutes, 46 seconds)
iPhone photo by Jamie Jobb
Hitched Up Real Tight
or
or
Holes-In-One Are Par-For-His-Course
a very short sporting report about golf and rodeo
{solo performance transcript repurposed from 1998 script}
devised, written and performed
by Jamie Jobb
“To find a man’s true character, play golf with him.”
– P.G. Wodehouse
Performance Script:
20 May 2019
The Marsh Upstage
1062 Valencia Street
San Francisco, California 94110
Traveling Light Studio
Post Office Box 12
Martinez, California
94553-0001
925 723-1782
(c) 2019 by Jamie Jobb
CHARACTERS
RAY ROGERS, team roper, 55
THE MOGUL, vagrant golfer, 72
SECRET SERVERS (four)
SETTING
(RAY ROGERS drives, underhand)
RAY: “Dang! (jumps, looks back) That was close!”
I’m on Highway One. Big Sur.
Just missed a German
Shepherd
crossing the road below
Point Lobos.
Otherwise it’s been a
quiet ride.
Up
ahead, at the park entrance,
I
see a guy standing there
with
his thumb out.
Tall
guy. Heavy-set, dressed like a golfer.
Could
be a professional.
Carries
a single golf club – a putter!
Strange
guy to be hitch-hiking
out
here all alone in the dark.
Kinda
like a ghost. Or Max von Sydow.
He
seems a total wreck.
– his
face says it all:
Dumbstruck
in the wind.
And
his hair’s an unholy mess,
like
stale cotton candy.
When
you’re from Texas, and
there’s
a man on the road in distress,
what’re
you spozed to do?
I
pull over, pick him up.
(The
Stranger “gets in”)
He’s
a really big fella.
And
he has trouble fitting into the car.
It’s
a Ford Pinto, so there’s not a lotta room.
He
deserves a better ride than this!
I
know I do.
I
rented this car so I could get back to
Salinas
in time to meet up with Vernon,
our
horses and my truck.
We’re
team ropers … in the rodeo.
I’m
on my way back from a visit
with
my sister in San Simeon.
It’s
a long ride. I could use a conversation.
Turns
out the guy’s not dumbstruck at all.
He’s
a very very big talker, I tell ya what.
Actually
up close, he’s not much of a mess.
Except
for the tire mark on his shoe …
Alligator.
So it’s a little hard to make out.
His
golf outfit’s very nice. Quite expensive.
Looks
like custom-made silk, or something.
Has
one of those exclusive country club
logos
on it.
He
wears white bluetooth plugs in
his
ears. So he’s talking as he gets in.
And
he doesn’t quit once he sits.
“Howdy
... Ray Rogers.” He’s
not
recognizing
me, so he can’t know rodeo.
Looks
right past me and says:
“No
COLLISION! To be perfectly honest.”
Like
I’m spozed to know who HE is!
Between
his phone and my window,
I
don’t know who he’s talking to.
He
repeats himself like that all the way
to
downtown Monterey when he rolls down
his
window and yells at people we pass:
“Believe
me: No COLLISION!”
Seems
he wants everybody to know
it
wasn’t an accident.
(pause)
Whatever
it was …
(pause)
I
try to talk to him about it, but there’s
no
breaking through his fog of words.
He’s
constantly taps his phone
and
does enough yacking for both of us.
And
it’s all about him – except when he says:
“In
all fairness, it’s NOT my fault.
(pause)
They did it!”
He
points to a Mexican family on the street.
Then
I realize I know this old guy.
I
see his face on TV all the time
dressed
in a dark suit, long firehouse
red
tie. It’s …
(mouths words)
“The
President …
of
the United States …
…
of America!”
Riding
shotgun … here in my rented Pinto!
Why’d
anybody name a vehicle
after
a bean?
Suddenly
the car starts to smell,
He
rolls up his window,
yells
into his phone:
“You
listen to me:
I’m
putting together A Big Deal!
Something
Really Huge!”
He almost hits me with
his putter.
I roll down my window.
Then
he tells his phone:
“Never
mind where I am.
(beat) Call it The
New Deal!
(beat)
That’s Fake History!
I
don’t care about the color,
it’s
MY New Deal!”
He
puts his phone away,
rolls
down his window, and
yells
at an old lady on the street:
“It’s
My New Deal.”
Is he talking golf?
Everybody knows
golf’s no sport. They
don’t run.
They don’t play
defense. They
don’t hit the balls at
each other.
His phone rings again.
He looks at it and
yells out the
window:“Witch hunt!”
Strange thing about this
guy, he dresses fancy,
but acts like he’s a
total loser.
Wasn’t near a vehicle
when I picked him up!
And I don’t remember
seeing any actual wreck.
No evidence of any kind
of crash.
Certainly no cops, first
responders.
Maybe talking to him
isn’t such a good idea?
But I got a lotta rope,
so I can hannel him,
and it’s been a long
road … I gotta strike up
some conversation just to
stay awake.
“You
know Tiger Woods?”
“Everybody
knows I’m a stable genius.”
“What’s
your handicap?”
“Hole
in one ... every time.”
Finally he seems a little
winded,
so I ask him:
”Did you get my
letters?”
He looks right at me for
the first time
and whispers: “Lot
of people tell me:
…
not gonna happen!”
I repeat:
Did
you get the letters I wrote to you?”
“Who
knows? You tell me!”
“I
wrote you a bunch of letters …
tried
to talk to you about it in Palm Beach.
But
your people wouldn’t let me
anywhere
near your table.”
“They’re
good people. Very good people.”
“What
do THEY eat for breakfast?”
He’s truly stumped by
my question.
He can’t answer, so I
dig right in …
“When
you grow up on a farm
you
gotta eat right. Because that’s
when
you wake up – breakfast.
But
is it Mathematically Correct … your Breakfast?
There’s
only one way to know.
Add
it all up.
Say
you eat Product 19 with some
Half-And-Half
plus Total. Throw in
a
little Equal. That’ll give ya 20,
since
two halves of Half-And-Half
equal
one … Ya follow?”
His eyes roll back, I
continue:
“Or
you can take Product 19, Basic Four
and
Fiber One – plus Two-Ten Milk with
Equal
and Total, so you’d have
(adds
up fingers)
… 45, right there.
(beat)
Much Better Breakfast!”
“You
know, like Politically Correct.
(beat) Or Religiously
Correct.” (pause)
You
know, like when you have to belong
to the right dang
religion! (beat)
This
is Mathematically Correct …
(pause)
Or
like when you do your taxes!”
“YYYEEEEAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH”
He screams like a trapped
coyote.
I
reassure him: “Just do your math!”
He’s flails like a
wild-man!
Gagging, waving his
putter around.
For a sportsman, this
Stranger seems
extremely afraid of
simple arithemetic!
Thank God we’re at a
stop light.
My hitch-hiker throws
open his door,
and begins to pry himself
out the car.
The light changes, I pull
into a bus stop,
get out to help him …
But SUDDENLY
I’m slammed up against
the Pinto
by two men in dark suits
and sunglasses.
Secret Servers!
Two more of ‘em rush
over,
give him a bull horn.
That cheers him up and he
yells into it:
“Keep your own
scorecard!
There was
no COLLISION!”
They take his putter, put
it in his golf bag.
And then they haul him
off in a black Hummer SUV.
He yells through the bull
horn:
“Bring
back Roman Numerals …
Land the plane! Land
the plane!”
(pause)
Once they leave, I tell
my Secret Servers
I’m a rodeo team roper
and they back off.
Then one of them says:
“We
just have to make sure Our Mogul
stays
outta trouble.”
“Well,
you should take this.”
(holds packet of Equal.)
“It’ll help
you out every dang time.”
“I
didn’t get to tell Him about it.
Equal
is the Single-Most Key Secret
Ingredient
of the Mathematically Correct Breakfast.
It
contains … (reads)
Zero carbohydrates.
Zero sodium.
Zero protein.
Zero calories AND
Zero sense …
This
product has absolutely nothing
in
it … at all! Just like Your Majesty –
Mister
Mogul his own self.”
*
FURTHERMORE:
*
THANKS
Dan
Hoyle, Charlie Varon, Kenny
Yun, Fred Wickham, Mike
Duvall, Harlan Bailey, Scott
Hildula, Dexter Young,
J.P. Tilleman,
Evelyn Jean Pine, Jeff Hanson, David Steinore, Nina Sacco, Paul
Craig, Stephen Barbata, Robert
N. DeJohn, Bob Maddow,
Lawrence O’Donnell, Rick Reilly, Jana and Steven Russon,
Meera Chaturvedi, Ved Prakash Vatuk, Johana De Brauwere, Sierra
Wilson, Davey Tower, Marilyn Berg Cooper, the
crew at States Coffee, Paul
Eastburn, Terry Porter,
Toby Trammell, J.J. and Ralph Senn, Dena
Zachariah and Bailiff Bailiwick, Esq.,
his own self.
APOLOGIES
Melvin
E. Dummar, Howard Hughes, Bo Goldman, Jonathan Demme, Lenny Bruce,
Tiger Woods, Doris and Alfred (aka “Doral”) Kaskel, Arthur
Miller, Will Rogers, Roy Rogers, Dale Evans.
copyright
(c) 2019 by Jamie Jobb all rights reserved
Caution:
No part of this dramatic work may be reproduced, for any reason, by
any means, including any method of photographic reproduction, without
the permission of the author. This play is fully protected in whole,
in part, or in any form, under the Copyright Laws of the United
States of America, and all other countries of the Copyright Union,
and is subject to a royalty. All rights – including professional,
amateur, motion picture, radio, television, recitation and public
reading – are strictly reserved. All inquiries concerning
performance should be addressed to the author at Traveling Light
Studio.
Contact
Details
regarding
performing rights for the work included herein:
925
723-1782
Traveling
Light Studio
Post
Office Box 12
Martinez
CA 94553-0001
Here is the author, in performance:
ReplyDeletehttps://youtu.be/P-NhaU8bogU
(under 12 minutes, closed captioned)