Play 4- November 18th-Deep Fishing.
Karl: 30
Todd: almost 31
(Todd and Karl sitting on dock fishing, they are silent, looking out to sea in thought when Karl breaks silence.)
Karl:
So it’s your birthday today.
Todd:
(scratches head as if this concept is foreign)
Oh. (long pause) What’s the date today?
Karl:
The eighteenth. (beat.) Your birthday.
Todd:
No its not.
Karl:
Eighteenth of November? Yeah. I’m pretty sure it is.
Todd:
No- I think you’re the one who’s had one to many birthdays. Look at you- senile already .
(waves Karl off)
Karl:
Or maybe its you- poor man; can’t even remember your own birthday.
Todd:
(grumbles)
I remember things just fine. But today’s not my birthday.
Karl:
Okay then…well (beat.) when is your real birthday.
(mocking tone)
Tell me sir- for I must know! Help me to get my poor facts straight!
Todd:
(Silent, looks down at water/fidgets with reel)
Karl:
Ah.(beat.) I see. Can’t remember that either. Well (beat.) I guess since you can’t remember the date we’ll just have to use this one. Happy Birthday Todd.
Todd:
No.
Karl:
No? Why?
Todd:
I hate my birthday.
Karl:
What- why?
Todd:
Well. (beat.) Think about it. Each birthday is another year closer to death, you end up getting old, each birthday is closer to grey hair- closer to wrinkles- closer to stiff backs- the day you go to the home. It’s the anniversary of someone else’s death because someone had to die so you could come into the world. If you’re not particularly proud of yourself it’s another reminder of your failure. Hallmark makes millions off of it- cake is bad for you- wrapping paper gets all over the place…(medium pause) birthdays just suck.
(long silence)
Karl:
Let me ask you something.
Todd:
Okay.
Karl:
Do you love your friends?
Todd:
Yes.
Karl:
Your wife? Your beautiful kids?
Todd:
More that anything.
Karl:
Well- (beat.) That’s one more year with them.
Todd:
Yeah…I guess you’re right.
(long silence as they stare out to sea)
Karl:
Happy Birthday Todd.
Todd:
(smiles shyly while still looking out to sea)
Thanks.
(lights dim, scene ends)
Todd: almost 31
(Todd and Karl sitting on dock fishing, they are silent, looking out to sea in thought when Karl breaks silence.)
Karl:
So it’s your birthday today.
Todd:
(scratches head as if this concept is foreign)
Oh. (long pause) What’s the date today?
Karl:
The eighteenth. (beat.) Your birthday.
Todd:
No its not.
Karl:
Eighteenth of November? Yeah. I’m pretty sure it is.
Todd:
No- I think you’re the one who’s had one to many birthdays. Look at you- senile already .
(waves Karl off)
Karl:
Or maybe its you- poor man; can’t even remember your own birthday.
Todd:
(grumbles)
I remember things just fine. But today’s not my birthday.
Karl:
Okay then…well (beat.) when is your real birthday.
(mocking tone)
Tell me sir- for I must know! Help me to get my poor facts straight!
Todd:
(Silent, looks down at water/fidgets with reel)
Karl:
Ah.(beat.) I see. Can’t remember that either. Well (beat.) I guess since you can’t remember the date we’ll just have to use this one. Happy Birthday Todd.
Todd:
No.
Karl:
No? Why?
Todd:
I hate my birthday.
Karl:
What- why?
Todd:
Well. (beat.) Think about it. Each birthday is another year closer to death, you end up getting old, each birthday is closer to grey hair- closer to wrinkles- closer to stiff backs- the day you go to the home. It’s the anniversary of someone else’s death because someone had to die so you could come into the world. If you’re not particularly proud of yourself it’s another reminder of your failure. Hallmark makes millions off of it- cake is bad for you- wrapping paper gets all over the place…(medium pause) birthdays just suck.
(long silence)
Karl:
Let me ask you something.
Todd:
Okay.
Karl:
Do you love your friends?
Todd:
Yes.
Karl:
Your wife? Your beautiful kids?
Todd:
More that anything.
Karl:
Well- (beat.) That’s one more year with them.
Todd:
Yeah…I guess you’re right.
(long silence as they stare out to sea)
Karl:
Happy Birthday Todd.
Todd:
(smiles shyly while still looking out to sea)
Thanks.
(lights dim, scene ends)
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11:59 PM
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